2017 Platonic Voltron Legendary Defender Month

Day 23: Happy Birthday (Or Cooking)

Hunk was startled awake by the putrid smell of a thick smoke that was seeping around the edges of his door. What the quiznac was going on? Were they under attack? Had the ship been blown up? He jumped to his feet and, grabbing his bayard, cautiously made his way to the door.

Out in the hallway, the smoke was so thick it was impossible to see. Hunk hurriedly put the visor down on his helmet so that he wouldn't have to breath in the toxic fumes. He ran blindly down the hallway, unsure of when to turn, since he really couldn't see anything. As a result, he crashed painfully into walls when when the hallways ended.

"Hey guys? Anybody there? What happened?" Hunk yelled into the intercom. "Guys, wake up, I think we took a hit..."

When no reply came, Hunk's worry escalated into full-blown panic. What if the others had been blown up along with part of the ship, and now only existed as smithereens floating through cold, dark space...

Hunk shook his head, trying to clear it. He knew thinking like that wouldn't do anything to help him, but he was prone to assuming the worst when faced with sticky situations, and he couldn't really help the horrible thoughts running through his mind. He had to figure out where the ship had been blasted, and then maybe he could at least stop the fire from consuming the rest of the ship.

After a good deal of scrambling through the castle like a maze, and a horrible sense of doom that steadily increased with every tic, Hunk finally felt as though he had managed to figure out the direction all the smoke was coming from. If the smoke had been bad outside of his room, it was nothing compared to this. Looking down, Hunk realized he couldn't even see his own hand.

Hunk stumbled into the room, from which the fumes where eminating, waving his hand in a futile attempt to clear some of the smoke away so he could see better. He stepped forward, peering around in vain, trying to figure out what was producing all the smoke. He took another step forward, right into something--no, someone and leapt backward with a squeal.

"Hello?" He yelled into the smoke.

"Hunk?"

"Keith? What's going on?"

Pidge's voice suddenly emerged from somewhere in the direction of the oven, sounding resigned. "Oh, quiznac, I give up." There was a clank that sounded like the oven door slamming shut, then Lance's uncertain "if we started with edible ingredients, it should be edible now, right?"

"Lance, nobody should be forced to eat that, especially not on their birthday" said Keith.

The smoke was beginning to clear, and Hunk could barely make out the outlines of the three paladins looking down at a misshapen lump on the countertop.

Hunk put the pieces together in his mind and sighed exasperatedly.

"Guys, is this about me making my own birthday cake? I told you, I'm happy to just do it myself."

The other three paladins squinted at him through the remaining smoke.

"But Hunk, you shouldn't have to make your own birthday cake!" said Lance finally. He glanced down hopefully at the charred heap.

"He also really shouldn't be forced to eat that on his birthday" Keith pointed out.

"Agreed" said Pidge, scrunching her nose at the offending object in question.

"Thanks guys," said Hunk with an amused smile, "But maybe I should just make another cake..."

* * *

Lance still thinks that if Hunk had let them taste the 'cake,' maybe it would have turned out to be alright. Everyone else is glad Hunk sent it out the airlock before Lance could do anything more to it. Keith says he should have sent Lance out the airlock.

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Notes:

The prompt for today was Happy Birthday or Cooking, so I combined the two!