Season 8 Rewrite | Plance

Episode 5 (Part 2)

 PIDGE POV

I tried to focus on our other problems, on worrying about Keith, who still hadn't returned, or Shiro, who had gone out to find him, but it was hard to not think about the persistent ache that radiated through my leg. Luckily, a welcome distraction slid into the seat next to me.

"I heard about your heroism." Lance grinned at me. "Only you could barely be able to walk and still manage to take out two space pirates with ease."

"It was not easy," I sniffed. "It hurt like hell." I tried to wiggle my toes, but the pain stopped me short. Lance looked worried now.

"You're okay now, right?" 

I grimaced.

"Yeah. Being able to breathe does help." I turned to meet Lance's gaze and was taken aback from the intensity of his stare. Worry, anger, fear and relief all swirled and eddied within his brown eyes. When he registered my attention his eyes cleared.

"I'll grab us some food." He walked into the kitchen, and his chair was quickly occupied with Allura.

"You know, I'm surprised Lance isn't happier to see you." She combed out the end of her breathtakingly beautiful hair absent-mindedly. I narrowed my eyes.

"Why?"

"Well, he was worried sick. I'd never seen him so worked up before. Actually, that's a lie. Remember when you beat him at that -"

"Allura!" I twisted my fingers together in curiosity. "Why was he so worried? I can manage myself." Allura smiled conspiratorially.

"I don't think it mattered to him whether you could look after yourself or not." She started to get up. "To be honest, I was worried that he'd plunge into the forest, calling your name, and get us both killed." She headed towards my dad and the commander, Curtis, as I thought over what she had just said. 

Lance had been worried about me? Butterflies exploded in my stomach. He had only talked about me with his 'true love', Allura? At that thought, I squished the butterflies roaming my insides. Lance liked Allura, not me. It had never been me, and it never will be. We are just close friends. I pasted a smile onto my face as Lance emerged, victoriously clutching a plate of stew.

ACXA POV

It was very confusing, seeing my old comrades again. Especially when I glimpsed the love and care burning in Zethrid's eyes. Usually, they would just burn. Ezor seemed nervous. I had contacted a her a while back, aware she may not be willing to meet me, but unaware of the fact she would be returning to her old friend. Although what Zethrid and Ezor have can't really be described as friendship. I realized I probably should leave the small cell where Zethrid was contained; I'm sure she did not wish for me to see the tears welling up in her eyes, extinguishing that fire that normally burns so hot. Instead, I found my feet glued to the floor as I watched my old friends fall into a deep embrace.

"I'm so sorry," Zethrid croaked. Ezor wiped a tear off her cheek with a long delicate finger.

"I'm sorry too," She smiled gently, Zethrid's hands smothering her own as they gripped each other tightly. I found it within myself to slink through the doorway, leaving them talking quietly. Spotting Veronica down the hall, I hastened to catch up to her. I was starting to warm to these over-dramatic earthlings.

PIDGE POV

I hadn't left my seat in the dining hall for over an hour, instead, I commanded Hunk to bring my tablet from my room. Lance had gone to keep Hunk company in the kitchen, Shiro was currently speaking to Curtis, and Allura was with the MFE's. The only person to disturb me was Keith, after emerging from what appeared to be a very thorough shower. His abundance of hair hung in long black tendrils, and his eyelashes glistened in the bright artificial light.

"You alright?" I asked as he slid onto the bench opposite me. Keith ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just..." He sighed. "I suppose I have always been so sure that we had the complete moral high ground. It's..." He searched for a word. "Annoying. Annoying to think that we have angered someone as much as we have angered Zethrid." He slumped back in his chair dejectively.

"You do know that Ezor miraculously turned up earlier, ready to forgive, right?" I put down my tablet. "Not that it's even our fault. Their personal problems are not ours." I smiled at Keith. "Zethrid has always been crazy. You have nothing to worry about. You are very noble."

"I'm not noble." Keith snorted. I grinned.

"Oh, you are. Look at you, talking about moral high ground."

Keith rolled his eyes. I suddenly remember my opportunity.

"Keith! Lance and Hunk are supposed to be making peanut-butter cookies. I can't walk, but..." I pointedly looked at the open door to the kitchen across the hall. Keith rolled his eyes even harder.

"Fine. C'mon." I adjusted myself so Keith could easily scoop me up. His arms held me tight as he walked the few steps to the kitchen. I relished the special treatment.

"I should hurt myself more often!" I swung my legs back and forth in the air.

"Please don't." Keith walked through the door and placed me on a high stool by the table. He paused slightly when the two boys, one of which had flowery oven gloves adorning his hands, watched curiously. Keith narrowed his eyes at me, and I gave him the most innocent smile I could muster. "I didn't need to carry you, did I?" He scowled. "You can get around on a sprained leg just fine." I shrugged evilly.

"Technically I need crutches." I leant against the worktop and stared at Hunk and Lance expectantly. "I was promised peanut-butter cookies." Lance narrowed his eyes.

"They're coming." He took off the oven gloves. "They need about 10 more minutes."

Keith cleared his throat.

"I'll go get your crutches from the infirmary while we wait." He walked out, muttering something about being 'too done for this...' I turned back to my friends.

"What can we do while we wait?"

"Jeez," Hunk whined. "When you're injured you get so needy!" He slid a bowl over to her end of the table. "Here. That's the remnants of the cookie dough. Have at it." I leapt on it delightedly, scooping around the rim with my fingers.

"Hey!" Lance exclaimed at Hunk. "You promised I could have it!" He ran around the table, skidding on his socks at the corners, and threw himself down beside me. We frantically fought for every last smudge of cookie dough until the bowl was shiny.

"You're like dogs." Hunk looked disgusted.

"I think we did a good job," Lance replied, licking a fingertip. I nodded.

"I'd give you a high five, but my hands are sticky."

At that moment Keith came hurtling into the room at about a hundred miles an hour, propelled by the crutches he grasped in his hands. He blushed under our combined attention.

"Just testing them out." He mumbled, handing them to me. "I got the shortest ones they had."