The story of us (Shance Fluff Week 17/18)

Buzzing in the Breeze - Day 7: trust/love

It really hadn't been the greatest day for Lance. At all.

First, he'd had to help split up an argument first thing in the morning after he left his room; Keith and Allura had gotten stuck in another large disagreement, one that involved throwing insults across the dining table at what felt like one hundred miles an hour.

"I thought they'd have chilled out by now," Hunk said with a sigh once both had finally exited the room, "apparently not, y'know?"

Then the training deck malfunctioned just as he planned to take out his stress via training. The droid weren't forming properly, resulting in a garbled mess of robotic parts instead of the gladiators he was familiar with. They didn't even move properly, stepping with juddering skips as uneven feet attempted to surge towards him. Even the voice recognition system wasn't working; Coran had to manually turn the programme off from the control pid after it attempted to chase him around the room for half a varga.

So that wasn't possible either.

He could feel the migraine beginning to grow behind his eyes, angry and throbbing between his eyebrows, just to make his situation worse. Migraines like this were rare, but man, they were horrible when he got them.

Shiro shot him a concerned glare over the table at lunch, squinting subtlety midst a conversation with Allura about food goo flavours.

It was around mid-afternoon when Lance finally crashed in his bedroom, letting the moment wash over him. At this point, his migraine-ache-allergy combination had grown into a fully blown wildfire in his forehead. It had been too light outside, altean lights too bright and glaring on his eyes; it almost felt like some kind of scalpel under his skull, stabbing at his brain frantically. The zig-zags that had made their way across his vision had somehow intensified, flashing as they wormed across his eyes. To top it all off, his nose itched like he was about to sneeze any second, and yet, nothing was coming.

He ached.

"Lights to ten perfect," he groaned, cringing at the weakness of his own voice, "and can it get a little cooler in here? I'm burning up."

A chill settled in the air, ventilation system increasing the air conditioning in the room with the slightest of hisses, but it didn't really help. Instead, it just made Lance want to pull the blankets up over his shoulders, but-

He needed to get his armour off.

Fighting against his headache, he pushed himself up off the bed and onto his knees. His entire body protested, ache squeezing his bones in rebellion as the zigzags flashed before his eyes despite the darkness of the room. 
It hurt, physically, to whip his chest armour off from over his head, pressure against his forehead increasing again, and he threw the removed armour across the room weakly. His eyes itched again, painfully, an irritated tear deciding at that point to slide down his face.

He hadn't left this pathetic in a long time.

A part of him screamed for painkillers; he knew Coran kept some in a cupboard in the medbay, small little reconstructions that he had made sure humans could take. Grab some of those, take a water pouch from the kitchen, and maybe convince Hunk to bake him something nice, and he would be back on his feet in no time. Maybe they had antihistamines somewhere - it would be worth asking Coran if he saw him-

Then again, lying on his bed in the dark feeling sorry for himself seemed like a good plan too.

As if on agreement, his head throbbed again, and he collapsed back onto the bed with a groan of pain. Of course he would get a migraine in the middle of an important diplomatic cycle, like, what were the odds? Why couldn't it have been someone like Keith who got allergies?