Work Text:
“This is stupid.”
Keith rolls his eyes toward the sky, praying to whatever higher power that might be out there for patience. “You know we gotta find that ship, Lance.”
“I know that. What’s stupid is that Allura made me go with you. I wanted to go with Hunk. Or Shiro.”
“Sorry you’re stuck with me.” Keith swings his bayard at another branch and maneuvers his body through the dense foliage. “I’m not exactly thrilled about having to babysit you, either.”
“Babysit?” From behind him, Lance balks. Keith knows exactly which expression he’s wearing without having to look. “If anybody needs babysitting, it’s you! Shiro told me to make sure you didn’t do anything rash before we left, not the other way around!”
Keith grits his teeth, tries to resist stopping their trek just to turn around and glare. “Hey, I’m not the one who makes fart jokes all the time. Shiro told me that you’re immature, and he’s right.”
The offended noise Lance makes is satisfying. If there’s one thing Keith knows, it’s how to get under the other boy’s skin. But, he supposes that’s true both ways. Lance makes him crazy, and his temper is particularly short today. He secretly agrees that Allura insisting they search the quadrant together was a bad idea, even though he’ll obviously never tell Lance that.
“I am not immature,” the blue paladin shouts. “You’re just a boring stick-in-the-mud who can’t take a joke.”
Keith growls low in his throat. Just make it through the next couple of hours. That’s all you have to do. Just ignore him and maybe he’ll—
“I’m not the only one who thinks so, either. Even Pidge thinks you need to lighten up. Pidge.”
Then again, patience has never been Keith’s strength. “Oh my god, can you shut up for two seconds?”
“Uh, yeah, actually. Because I’m mature.”
“Then prove it.”
“I don’t have to prove anything to you!”
Keith throws a smug grin over his shoulder. “Because you can’t.”
“I can too! I just don’t wanna.”
“Okay, then, I’ll bet you your share of Hunk’s cookies that you can’t be quiet for ten minutes.”
“I’ll take that bet.”
Easy. Keith smirks to himself before turning around and holding out a hand.
Lance shakes it firmly with a ridiculously serious expression. Keith has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the way his lower lip juts out and his eyebrows pinch together.
“Okay,” Keith says, more than pleased with himself but trying not to show it.
True to his word, Lance doesn’t speak again for a long while. It’s kind of strange, if Keith’s being honest. The lack of conversation is replaced by the thwip of his bayard hacking through the branches and their footsteps trampling the underbrush. After a while, Lance’s grow louder and heavier, like he’s not even bothering to pick up his feet.
“Can you be a little louder back there?” Keith says. Might as well make this harder on him. “I don’t think the Galra can hear you yet.”
He’s genuinely impressed when there isn’t a response to that. The lack of his obnoxious voice is nice. Keith listens to the birdcalls—different from Earth, but similar enough—and the wind through the leaves and the the scurry of some animal through the brush. Around the five minute mark, though, he almost regrets making Lance keep quiet for so long. He’s not annoyed but the lack of the blue paladin’s complaining is…somewhat jarring. He’s probably just gotten too accustomed to it. And who knows when he’ll get this kind of silence again anyways? He might as well enjoy it, even if it means giving up cookies.
The timer on his visor is nearly at two minutes when he notices that Lance’s crashing footfalls are growing significantly further away. He turns his head slightly but doesn’t bother to look back when he shouts, “Come on, Lance, pick up the pace. We have to cover this quadrant in the next hour.”
But Lance doesn’t walk any faster. It seems like he’s slowing down, if anything. It’s probably his own stupid way of getting on Keith’s nerves without losing the bet. Well, Keith won’t give him the satisfaction of slowing down as well. If Lance wants to be left behind, so be it. It won’t affect him at all. He’ll reach the rendezvous first and then the ship will have to wait on Lance, and everyone will be annoyed with him and it’ll just be another win for Keith.
He trudges on, swinging his bayard with probably a little more force than cutting down the brush requires, and tries to convince himself that he’s not agitated. Stupid Lance. How can someone be irritating just by walking?
“Uh, Keith…”
Keith perks up immediately, a satisfying feeling of victory swelling in his chest. “Oh, looks like you lose,” he says with a grin and false sympathy. “It’s a shame, you only had forty-five seconds left.”
“Keith, I think…something’s wrong.”
For a brief second Keith pauses, because Lance’s voice sounds weak and maybe a little frightened. But he dismisses it quickly and steps over a rotting log. “I’m not falling for that, Lance.”
“I’m serious, I—” Keith hears him take several rasping breaths. “I don’t…I don’t feel right.”
“Uh huh. Nice try.”
“I’m not joking, Keith, I-I’m…” His voice is fainter now. Keith can barely hear it.
A chill of uncertainty rolls down his spine. Either Lance is a much better actor than he thought, or he’s not lying. He finally looks over his shoulder, and instantly stops dead in his tracks.
Lance is leaning heavily against a tree, bent over at the waist, and even from this distance Keith can see how hard he’s breathing, how hard he’s shivering.
“Lance?” Keith immediately begins to rush back to him, concern prickling in the back of his mind. He’s about five yards away when Lance goes completely limp and collapses to the ground in a heap. Keith’s eyes widen in alarm. “Lance!”
Now he hopes that, by some small chance, Lance really had been joking and he’ll roll the taller boy over to find him laughing hysterically and crowing over his own victory at making Keith worry. But when Keith grips his shoulder and carefully shifts him over on his back, he’s met by the sight of a pale and sweaty face, features screwed up in discomfort. There’s no way to fake that.
Keith’s heart is pounding as he quickly removes his helmet and takes Lance’s head in his hands. “Lance! Hey, Lance, talk to me. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“Jus’ got…really dizzy all of a sudden,” he slurs.
Keith automatically starts going through a checklist in his mind. “Are you hydrated? Did you eat breakfast? Get enough sleep?”
Lance nods weakly, not even bothering to open his eyes. “Felt fine jus’…jus’ a second ‘go. Dunno…” He coughs and groans miserably. “Oh, god.”
Keith’s eyes search his face frantically. “What is it?”
“Hu—hurts.”
“What hurts?”
Lance moves an arm clumsily to clutch at his side, and Keith’s gaze follows it to a small tear in the black suit exposed near his middle. He prods the fabric open with two fingers and sees several thin scratches raked down brown skin. They certainly don’t look like anything to be concerned about in and of themselves, but the area around them is reddened and swollen.
“Here?” He presses on the area gently.
Lance screams. “D—don’t do that!”
Keith grimaces. “Sorry.” He tears the fabric more to give him better exposure to the cuts just below Lance’s ribs. “What did you do, walk into a thorn bush?”
“I don’t…think so, I…I don’ remember getting cut.”
Keith frowns deeply. He’d walked ahead of Lance most of the way due to the foliage being so dense, so he wouldn’t have seen Lance cut himself on anything anyway. But it’s the only explanation.
“What are your other symptoms?” he says urgently, leaning over the blue paladin’s ashen face.
“Um…” It seems like he having trouble focusing. He licks his bloodless, chapped lips. “M-my head hurts and…I’m nauseous and—and cold.”
Keith tugs off his gloves and presses a palm to his forehead. It’s burning, far hotter than he would’ve imagined possible considering how fast the symptoms came on. He curses. “You’ve got a fever.” This is looking worse and worse. The guilt sitting heavy and cold in his gut isn’t helping. “Anything else?”
“I can’t s-see very well.”
Keith’s chest constricts painfully. “It has to be some kind of poison.”
Lance’s head thumps back onto the ground. What little blood was left in his face has drained completely and a bead of sweat slides down his cheek. “Sh…shit. M’I gonna die?”
“No.” Before he can think about what he’s doing, his hand is reaching out to push back short locks of sweat-dampened hair. “No, you’re not gonna die. Don’t be stupid.”
He adamantly ignores the twisting, churning feeling in his stomach and the voice in the back of his mind telling him how immature he was to ever think Lance would fake something like this. He normally wouldn’t put it past him, but that doesn’t ease his guilt. If it had been the other way around and Keith had been suffering like this while Lance ignored him and called him a liar…
He turns away sharply and activates his comm. “Allura, come in.”
“Keith.” The princess’s calm, assured voice eases the tension he feels marginally. “Did you find the ship?”
“No, but we need a pickup. Now.”
She must have heard the urgency in his voice. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Lance…” He looks down at the blue paladin, sweating and shivering and breathing weakly on the forest floor. “I-I don’t know what happened, but I think he got cut by something poisonous. He was fine one minute and the next, he…just collapsed. He’s in bad shape.”
There’s a pronounced silence on the comm for a brief moment.
“There are poisonous plants on this planet?” Shiro asks, alarmed and borderline accusatory.
“I don’t know,” Allura snaps. “But Coran and I will find out.”
“Right,” Coran says. “Keith, tell me his symptoms.”
Keith does, and he can almost feel the others’ worry though the comm line as the list grows.
“That kind of sounds like rattlesnake poisoning,” Hunk says when he finishes. “He—he’s not gonna die, is he?”
Nobody answers.
Keith stares at Lance, brow furrowed. It’s not fair that five minutes ago he was completely fine and now he could potentially be…be dying.
“Lance will be fine, Hunk,” Allura says, but Keith is certain everyone can hear the false assurance in her voice. “Keith, we’ve locked onto your signal. We’ll be there shortly. Until then, try to get his fever down if you can.”
“Let us know if he gets worse,” Shiro says.
“And make sure he doesn’t die,” Hunk says.
“…Right.” Keith hopes he can keep that promise, but he’s at a complete loss at what to do. “Just…hurry.”
The comm beeps out, and he takes off his helmet. Lance’s breathing is wheezy and labored. Keith leans over him and pats his face gently a few times, relief flooding through when the boy’s eyes flutter open almost immediately. “You still with me, Lance?”
“Y…yeah,” he rasps.
The glassy, unfocused glaze to his eyes makes Keith’s stomach clench. “How’re you doing? Better? Worse?”
Lance swallows with difficulty. “W—worse.” He blinks heavily several times and squints his eyes. “I can’t see, Keith.”
The words send another chill down Keith’s spine. At least he doesn’t have to worry about Lance seeing the panic in his expression. “It’s just the poison. It’ll be okay. Allura and Coran are on their way to get us right now.”
Lance nods. “Hey…Keith?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you help me get…get my amor off? Feels like it’s s-suffocating me.”
“Uh, yeah. Of course.”
Keith does most of the work, though Lance tries to help. His hands are so uncoordinated and shaky that Keith ends up telling him not to worry about it, and proceeds to remove all the armor himself while Lance lies on the ground listlessly.
It’s unsettling, seeing him like this. He’s only seen the blue paladin vulnerable one time before, and the second doesn’t make him feel any less panicky. Why does he have to be the one that has to deal with this? He’s not good at this. He doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing!
Allura had better get there soon. He doesn’t want to be responsible for Lance dying just because he’s completely useless.
When Lance is finally in nothing but the black body suit, it’s obvious just how much he’s shaking. Keith remembers what Allura said about lowering his fever and grabs his pack. Shiro made sure everyone was stocked with water and first aid before they headed out, though the handful of adhesive bandages and antiseptic solution wouldn’t do much in the case of an emergency. Like this.
Keith unrolls a length of gauze and dampens it with water. It isn’t exactly cold, but it will have to do. He presses it to Lance’s brow and frowns worriedly at the heat he feels radiating from it. His fever’s gone up.
“What’cha…doin’?” Lance mumbles.
“Trying to get your temperature down.”
Lance merely hums in acknowledgement. Keith drags the cloth down his face gently and hopes that it’s doing some good. They’re in the shade already, so he really doesn’t know what else he could possibly do. Maybe if he were some genius like Pidge or Hunk he would know how to make an antidote or some shit, but as it is he’s well and truly useless. He keeps staring at Lance’s chest, listens closely to his breathing. If he stops breathing…he knows CPR, but he doesn’t even know if that would do any good against poison that might very well be shutting Lance’s systems down from the inside.
He doesn’t think he’d be able to live with the guilt if Lance died on him. He certainly wouldn’t be able to face Hunk again.
Be positive, he chides himself. You don’t even know if it’s killing him. There’s always a chance that things will go right for a change.
Suddenly Lance starts squirming, trying clumsily to get his arms underneath him. A pained whimper leaves his mouth.
Keith puts a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Whoa, whoa, take it easy. What’re you doing?”
He’s breathing heavily through his mouth. “I th-think I’m gonna throw up.”
That puts Keith into action. He wraps one arm around the ill paladin’s shoulders and swiftly levers him into a sitting position. The instant Lance is upright, he lurches forward and retches hard, stomach contents spilling onto the ground between his legs. Keith grimaces. Lance was already in enough pain before—he doesn’t want to think about how much he’s in now.
He rubs his back while he gags and spits, which lasts for a worryingly long amount of time. When it finally stops, Lance seems completely drained. He slumps forward and would’ve landed face-first in his own vomit had Keith not caught him around the chest. He brings the lip of the water bottle to the Lance’s mouth and coaxes him to drink a little before lowering him slowly back to the ground. He groans pitifully.
“You idiot,” Keith mutters as he uses the gauze to wipe the mess from his lips. “You would manage to get cut on some weird alien plant and get poisoned.”
He’s surprised when Lance smirks. It’s feeble and shaky, but it’s definitely there. “J…jealous?”
Keith scowls out of habit, maybe longing for some sense of normalcy. “Why the hell would I be jealous?”
“Bragging rights, ob…obviously. The ladies love…battle scars.” The words are weak and slurred, like he can barely move his lips to form them. Keith can hardly make them out.
When Lance’s eyes drift shut again, Keith shakes him a little too firmly. “Hey, stay with me, Lance. You gotta stay awake until Allura and Coran get here.”
“Sorry to…disappoint you…” Lance’s face contorts in pain and he pants harshly. “Don’ think that’s g-gonna happen.”
“Lance!” Keith gives him another hard shake and feels only mildly guilty when the blue paladin gives an agonized grunt. “Don’t!”
With what looks like a monumental effort, Lance drags his eyes open again. “Keith?”
“What?”
He lifts a trembling arm and feels around blindly next to Keith’s knees. “Can—can I hold your hand?”
Keith blinks. That was…definitely not what he was expecting. “Why?”
Lance shakes his head a little. “Can’t…can’t see. Jus’ wanna know…that you’re there.”
Oh…it’s a reassurance thing. That’s probably okay then. Keith hesitantly grabs Lance’s searching fingers and watches as the other boy visibly relaxes.
“Thanks.”
Keith’s heart is pounding and there’s a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach. It’s probably just worry. Lance’s hand is cold and clammy against his own warm, dry palm, his grip weak.
“Do you, uh, need anything else?” Keith asks, even though there’s not much else he can do.
“No.” His eyes close again. “M’…s’rry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“For…for gettin’ sick n’…ruining the mission.”
“Idiot.” Keith subconsciously tightens his grip on the ill boy’s hand. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize. We can still finish the mission.”
Lance is silent after that for so long Keith is worried he passed out. He’s about to pat his face again when the blue paladin takes a deep, shuddering breath that sounds like he’s trying not to cry and lets it out with a miserable groan. “I don’t feel good.”
Keith’s heart squeezes in his chest. “I know, buddy. Just hold on a little longer. You’re gonna be fine.”
“I…I don’ wanna die, Keith.”
“You won’t.” Keith feels sick. Where the fuck is Allura?
Lance doesn’t respond after that. With a jolt, Keith leans forward and shakes his shoulder again. “Lance? Lance!”
The blue paladin is limp and entirely unresponsive.
Keith scrambles for his helmet, but doesn’t let go of Lance’s hand. “Allura? He’s passed out. Are you almost here?”
The princess answers right away. “Yes, we’ll be there in a few ticks.” She sounds borderline frantic. “Don’t worry. Coran found the plant. He’s working on an antidote.”
Keith slumps over in relief, lifts Lance’s hand in both of his and presses it to his forehead. “I told you you were going to be fine.”
—
The plant, it turns out, is native only to that planet. Its leaves are sharp enough to snag and penetrate thick fabric, but don’t cause a significant amount of pain upon contact with the skin.
Its poison causes death in one hour.
When Coran told them that, Keith almost had to sit down. Lance had been dying. He could have died, easily, if the circumstances had been different. Keith wouldn’t have been able to do a damn thing.
Thankfully, though, using the castle’s sophisticated scanners, they were able to identify the plant and construct an antidote in time. Lance was given it immediately upon being brought back into the castle and was placed in a bed in the infirmary to recover.
Keith’s standing in the circle everyone formed off to the side of the bed, listening with crossed arms as Coran explains further about the poison.
“It’ll take a few days for the effects to wear off completely,” the Altean tells them. “But from what I can tell, he should make a full recovery.”
Keith steals a glance at the bed. Lance still looks so pale. He hasn’t stirred since he passed out in the forest.
“We should be glad nobody else got cut,” Shiro says. Then he turns to Keith and fixes him with that serious, down-to-business look he’s grown familiar with. “Thank you for acting so quickly, Keith. You saved his life.”
“Coran saved his life.” Keith turns away to glare at the floor.
Shiro places his cybernetic hand on his shoulder. “You took care of him. You kept him from panicking. That’s just as important.”
Keith doesn’t think so, but he doesn’t argue further. He won’t admit it, but he’s still shaken from seeing Lance like that.
When everybody leaves, he stays. He plants himself in a chair by Lance’s bedside and watches his chest rise and fall for a long time. The rush of such strong emotions has left him feeling drained and exhausted, but for some reason he doesn’t want to leave Lance until he wakes up. Might as well see it through to the end.
He doesn’t understand why he still feels so upset. He’s never really liked Lance all that much. He’s arrogant and obnoxious and irritating and always wants to pick a fight when Keith just wants to be left alone. Seeing him vulnerable like that shouldn’t have stirred such strong feelings in Keith, but it had. Suddenly he looks at Lance and…and wants to protect him. To be there for him. He hadn’t felt this way when Lance had been injured in the crystal explosion. On the contrary, he’d run in the opposite direction under the guise of protecting the Arusian village.
Maybe it’s because, this time, he was the only one there. He’d been all Lance had.
He’s staring at the white sheets blankly when Lance begins to stir. The blue paladin’s head turns on the pillow and he emits a low groan before his eyes flutter open.
Keith grabs his hand without thinking. “Lance?”
Lance’s fingers twitch around his. “Keith?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”
“Where’m I?”
“Back at the castle.” Keith leans forward a little. Lance’s gaze is wandering around but doesn’t focus on anything in particular. “You’re alright now. Coran made an antidote for the poison.”
“I still can’t see anything.”
“He said it’ll take a while for the effects to wear off.”
Lance deflates. “Oh. Good.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Still a little dizzy.”
“Do you want me to get you anything?”
Lance shakes his head. “Jus’…can you stay here ’til I fall asleep again?”
Keith answers without thinking twice. “Yeah. Of course.”
“Thanks.” Lance closes his eyes again, looking decidedly more peaceful.
Keith adjusts the ice pack on his head. “Um…Lance?”
“Hm?”
“I’m…I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
Lance actually laughs. “S’okay, Keith. I wouldn’t have believed me either.”
Keith smiles faintly. He’s glad to know it’s not being held against him, but he’ll feel bad about it for a long time.
“Keith?”
“What is it, Lance?”
“Do I still have to give you my share of the cookies?”
Now it’s Keith’s turn to laugh. “I’ll let it slide just this one time. But only because you almost died.”
Lance grins, looking very pleased with himself. “Nice.”
“Just…get better soon, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Lance falls asleep shortly after that, but Keith still doesn’t leave. He ends up falling asleep too, slumped onto the bed by his fellow paladin’s side. He never notices the five other heads that are watching from the doorway, or the camera being held by a grinning, bespectacled face.