Feeling Blue -- (VLD)

Worthy to Lead

Lance lay awake once more, again staring at the dull ceiling above him. It wasn't that he was ungrateful for the room, no- but the plain walls? The lack of glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to them? It was all just a stark reminder of how far away from home they really were. 

Filled with a deep longing for companionship, Lance dragged himself out of bed. Coran was always awake at this time. When Pidge had asked Coran why that was, he had gone into a long explanation about cycles and varying daylight hours. 

Hunk, seeing Lance's bewildered expression, had laughed and roughly translated that to 'they sleep less because they had longer days on Altea'. Lance let out a half-hearted chuckle at the memory. 

That had been in their first week on board the castle ship, when Lance still had hope of seeing his family again.

However, as Lance walked about the hallways, it was not the cheerful advisor that he found. Instead he watched as a haggard looking Shiro stumbled from the training room. Lance noted the bags under his eyes and sighed. 

The man had even more trouble sleeping than he did.

He was about to move on in his search for Coran, knowing already that their leader would not appreciate being seen in this vulnerable state. He too knew that feeling all too well- all of them did. 

Usually when he experienced it, Lance would flee to the hanger and barricade himself within Blue. Here he would stay for several hours, spouting some excuse about his beauty regime whenever the others cared to inquire about his absence. It was and excuse that went unquestioned due to Allura claiming all of the blue paladins cared deeply about their appearance. It made sense, as Blue herself liked to be washed daily if it were possible.

Lance fully intended to leave, and if he had stayed one second less nothing would have changed. But Lance had hesitated, unsure of which way to go. And this one second of hesitation had changed all his perceptions of their unflappable leader.

Lance turned to leave but was interrupted by a loud cry of anguish and the sound of metal hitting metal. Or in this particular case, the sound of metal plating bending under the pressure of a Galra-made prosthetic. Lance watched as the black paladin crumpled to the floor murmuring to himself.

"I can't feel it. It should hurt. Why doesn't it hurt?" Shiro whispered, eyes glistening with unshed tears of both sadness and rage. Shiro gripped his flesh arm with his Galra one, and Lance stepped out slowly, unable to bear Shiro hurting.

"Shiro? Shiro, can you hear me?" There was no response from the man on the floor, and Lance moved a step closer.

"Shiro, it's me- Lance. Shiro?" 

Again no response. Lance felt himself panicking and did his best to squash it down, now wasn't the time for hysterics. He took another step closer, being careful to approach from Shiro's flesh side. He wanted to believe that Shiro would never hurt him, but the logical part of his brain wouldn't let him. Not when he was in this state.

"Shiro, you're okay. You're in the Castle of Lions. Feel for Black, can you hear her? She'd be . . . she's worried for you." He tried, hoping to bring him back to the reality. 

At his words, Shiro turned to look at him. Something feral seemed to leave his eyes, and Lance thanked whatever gods were out there for the miracle that was ancient telepathic mecha-lions.

"Lance? What're you doing here?" Shiro grunted, looking around to regain his bearings. Gently Lance reached out for Shiro's human arm.

"Couldn't sleep;" he shrugged "I'm guessing you couldn't either?" Slowly, Lance placed his hand on the Galra arm, gently prising it from the flesh one slowly crushing in its grip. 

Shiro, seeing what Lance was trying to do, unclenched the fingers, showing the rapidly forming bruise blossoming against his skin.

"We should wrap it. Wouldn't want our leader injured now, would we?" Lance smiled. He turned, expecting Shiro to follow.

". . . I don't deserve to be your leader."

Lance paused mid step, turning around to face Shiro. His eyes were wide as he took in the man before him.

"What- what do you mean?" He gasped, shock causing his voice to jump up in pitch.

"I'm broken- I'm a broken man pretending to be fine." Shiro took a shaky breath before continuing. "I don't remember anything, and I don't want to because I know that I'm too weak for the knowledge. If I knew I don't- I don't know how I would go on."

He ran his human hand through his hair, tugging at the white locks at his forehead as he began to shout. "How am I supposed to face the Galra if I can't even face my own memories? I'm not worthy of leading!"

As Shiro ended his half-hysterical rant he stiffened, eyes haunted and arms wrapped around himself. Lance knew what he was thinking because he knew Shiro, and Shiro would automatically begin thinking about how his rant would affect Lance. He was proven correct when Shiro opened his mouth to speak, sliding down the wall to rest at the bottom.

"L-lance- I-"

"Did you know that Hunk wakes up early and meditates for three hours to start his day?" Lance interrupted, feeling mildly guilty for betraying his friends trust.

"No, but-" Shiro stared at Lance, confused "-but what does that have to do with anything?" 

"If he doesn't, his anxiety gets the better of him." He moved to kneel before the man, glaring at the ground between them. "It usually ends with both of us on the floor in my room as I help him through a panic attack. Do you think Hunk isn't worthy to pilot?" Lance questioned, fists slowly beginning to clench in his lap. 

Shiro remained silent, shocked at the question, Lance already knew his answer, so he moved on.

"Did you know that Allura and Coran sometimes sleep in the King's quarters; and Coran braids Allura's hair as she cries?" Lance murmured, tone getting louder with every word. "Do you think they don't deserve to be here?"

Shiro stuttered in the negative, and Lance spoke over the top of him.

"Did you know that Keith thinks he's stupid because it's hard for him to make connections with people? Does that make him unfit to pilot Red, Shiro?"

Again Lance waited a moment, allowing the information to sink in before continuing.

"Pidge is fourteen, Shiro, and still scared of thunderstorms because the sounds easily cover up any possible noise from an approaching Galra war ship." He hated saying all the things he promised his friends to keep as secrets, but he had to get through to their leader. 

"She doesn't sleep at all if it's storming. Does this mean she isn't the right person to be here, Shiro?"

Here Lance paused for a minute, taking in a deep breath before continuing on to the most difficult person for him to talk about.

"Did you know that I hate mirrors, because they don't lie?" he whispered 

"They show me how much I've changed? Did you know that I'm always scared my family won't recognise me if we make it back? Do these fears stop me? Stop any of us? Do they stop us from deserving to be on board this ship, Shiro?!"

"No" Shiro answered, lifting his head to look Lance in the eye. "None of it does, none of that makes any of you any less capable of being here! Why would you even think that?!" he roared, pushing himself off the wall, still staring at Lance in shock.

"You believe it so strongly Shiro, and yet you still think that of yourself." Lance said quietly, shaking his head. Shiro gaped at Lance, looking for all the world like he had just been slapped across the face.

"I- L-lance- I-" Shiro stuttered. Lance smiled and stood, turning to leave.

"We're all a little messed up, Shiro. It comes with being defenders of the universe." he murmured as he left, now exhausted enough to try and sleep once more.

Besides, sleep had to be better than the vortex of pain and self-loathing that had now filled him. He should have realised that Shiro needed help. He was supposed to be a leg of Voltron, lifting the others when they needed it.

But no, he couldn't even do that right.