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It’s hard to breathe. His face is pressed into the gravel, sharp rocks digging painfully into his flesh. He has to… He needs to get up. There’s something—he can’t remember what, but there’s something he has to do. His body’s twisted into an uncomfortable position and his limbs are so heavy, he isn’t sure he can move them. He doesn’t want to. He feels kind of fuzzy and dull, and his whole body throbs with his heartbeat. It isn’t unpleasant, but he has this awful feeling that if he moves it won’t stay that way.
Then he hears a sound. It’s faraway, distant, but it sets off alarms in his head.
“…ro!”
He blinks and slowly opens his eyes. He sees the tiny rocks that litter this planet, no bigger than pencil erasers, dark gray and swirled with white. They’re interesting. Nothing like them on Earth.
“Shiro!”
That’s…he knows that voice. His brain is working slowly and sluggishly, but he’s sure he can piece things together with a little more time.
“Shiro!”
His eyes widen. That’s Pidge.
And then, like a bolt of lightning, everything comes back with startling clarity.
Sudden strength surges into his limbs and he lifts himself up.
And falls back to the earth immediately. A scream tears out of his throat when white-hot pain flares through his chest and shoots all the way down his arms. Sweat beads on his brow as he lies on the ground and trembles. His breath comes in hitching gasps, each one sending another dagger of pain through his ribcage. His fingers shake uncontrollably where they clench and unclench in the dirt and he can’t get enough air.
“Shiro!”
“P-Pidge…” He can’t speak above a whisper, can’t let Pidge know where he is. Can’t get up.
His hands curl into fists. He has to get up. Pidge can’t fight off those sentries on their own. He was stupid enough to get pushed down a cliff right after he was stupid enough to let a robot stab him in the back. He has to get back up there, protect Pidge. If something happens to them because he’s too weak to get up…
With a primal growl, he plants his hands firmly in the gravel and pushes himself up again. His arms tremble and quake under his weight. A sharp pain stabs through his side and he cries out loudly before toppling back to the ground in a heap. The stab wound is burning like fire, but his side…something’s digging into it. He clumsily reaches for the area and is genuinely surprised when he finds nothing there.
Broken rib, then. Or ribs. He groans and drops his head. Great. Getting up probably isn’t even a good idea, but he can’t just lie here while Pidge is under attack.
But he can’t…he can’t get up. This isn’t even a matter of willpower or pain. He can’t force his body to do something it won’t. He can’t even shift into a position that isn’t putting pressure on his side. His breath rasps in his throat, loud and wheezing. Drops of sweat roll down his face and drip into the dirt. This is bad.
This is really, really bad.
“Shiro!” Pidge’s voice calls again. It sounds closer.
He tries to look up, but he doesn’t have the strength to lift his head. What he can see of the scenery blurs dizzyingly before his eyes.
Then there’s a flash of green and white, stark and bright against the grimy, dark backdrop. He can feel the feet pounding on the ground as they approach him and when he catches a glimpse of Pidge’s face, a little bit of the tension in his body melts away. They’re okay. He doesn’t know how, but they’re okay.
“Oh my god, Shiro!” Knees drop and thud in the gravel beside him, and then gloved hands are on his helmet, tugging it off gently. “Shiro, Shiro, can you hear me? Are you okay?!”
Page sounds panicked. Shiro’s not sure he’s ever heard them speak like that before. “I’m…I’m…” What is he supposed to say? He can’t assure them he’s alright. It’s far too late for that. It’s getting more and more difficult to breathe, so much so that he’s scared he has a punctured lung. He ends up groaning and shutting his eyes.
Something presses against the wound on his back and he shouts in pain. “Pidge—”
“I’m sorry,” they say quickly. “You’re bleeding a lot. I—I think my Lion’s coming; I can get a first aid kit.”
Shiro nods weakly. “The—the sentries—”
“Don’t worry, I took care of them.” Pidge tugs off a glove and sweeps back Shiro’s dampened bangs.
He wishes he could express how impressed he is to hear that. For a fleeting second, he feels silly for having been so worried. But then a series of coughs forces its way out of his chest and any coherent thoughts are lost in a haze of pain. He groans miserably and clutches his side.
Pidge’s amber eyes widen in concern. “Are you hurt somewhere else?”
“Think I br—broke a rib,” he gasps, pressing his face into the ground and squeezing his eyes shut.
Pidge’s hands hover over his. “Oh, Shiro, it’s—it’s gonna be okay. I got in touch with Allura and she’s bringing the castleship here. You’re gonna be fine.”
He draws in another ragged breath. “The others…”
“They’re fine. They completed their mission just like we did.” Their cool, slender hand on his sweaty face feels nice. “Don’t worry. Everything’s fine.”
He swallows. His mouth feels dusty and dry. “I’m s-sorry I couldn’t—protect you—”
“Shh. Try not to talk. Save your strength.” Pidge’s fingers comb through his hair. “I can protect myself, you know. You worry too much.”
He tries to smile. Maybe he does.
He isn’t sure how, but his head ends up in Pidge’s lap. They try to keep pressure on his wound, but he can tell he’s bleeding too badly to stop with a mere scrap of cloth torn from a body suit. Between the blood loss, the pain, and the lack of oxygen, it doesn’t take long at all for him to get too dizzy to keep his eyes open. Pidge’s face hovers above him, begging him not to fall asleep, but he can’t stop it.
He hopes the castle gets there soon.