//this all takes place in season three, after Zarkon and before they know who Lotor is.
"Ughhh."
Lance felt horrible. He had just gotten up and he was already ready to give up on life. He couldn't even remember the last time he had felt this sick.
Lance was currently hunched over the altean toilet in his bedroom's bathroom, groaning as he dry heaved. This was the third day in a row that Lance has woken up and ran to his bathroom to puke his guts into the toilet.
Lance sighed in relief as he finished dry heaving and he slowly sat up. Flushing the toilet, Lance stood up and sluggishly trudged back to his bed, flopping down on it.
Only for the castle alarms to go off.
Lance almost started crying. Reluctantly, he got up and grabbed his suit and armor and quickly changed into them before running to the bridge.
:/:
Lance yelped as him and Blue were knocked off their course by some Galra fighter jets. They were surrounded on all sides and could really use some help, but Lance didn't want to trouble his team mates with himself, again.
Lance was so focused on the fighter jets he didn't notice the main ship creep up behind him until Hunk was shouting at Lance to get out of there.
Lance didn't have a change to move when a tractor beam caught him and Blue. Lance shouted and cursed in Spanish. He tried and tried to get Blue to move but she couldn't.
The last thing Lance remembered was the large door hanger closing and the shouts and cries of his teammates cutting out.
YOU ARE READING
Uh what?
FanfictionThe one where Lance is captured by a certain Prince and has to make a hard decision