Okay so I’ve seen a lot of fanart and fics where aged up Lance has scars on his skin, and man do I dig that aesthetic, but what if it’s the opposite? What if healing pods not only repair injuries to the point where there’s no scarring, but they also repair old damage? Like, say, regenerating tissues and cells to the point where the whole body is like brand new.
The scar that Lance’s sister gave him when he was four? Gone. The old burn he had when he was twelve and touched the stove? Like it was never there in the first place. And siblings fight, and Lance has a lot of siblings, so he’s bound to have many “battle” scars, but they’re wiped away, one by one — like they were never there, like his past with his family never happened.
So maybe at some point, when he only has so many scars left, Lance starts fearing taking an injury, not because of pain and blood, but because that means another trip to a healing pod. Another mark of his past, proof that he really is a boy from Cuba, washed away like ocean foam. Maybe at some point, even if the injury is severe enough to warrant a visit to the pods, but not quite severe enough that it’d keep Lance from piloting Blue, he denies Coran when he suggests he visit the infirmary. Maybe he wants to heal naturally, welcoming new scars to join the old ones.
Maybe he learns to accept it, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe the birthmark on his hip is one day wiped away, replaced by unblemished tanned skin, and maybe Lance stays up till two crying because there’s so little left of who he used to be. What’s left of him that hasn’t been stomped on by parades of war and sullied with blood, tears and duty?
And maybe, when years have passed and the universe is finally well off that they can return home for a few vargas, maybe… Maybe Lance still looks the same.
Maybe all his visits to the healing pods; being exposed to their magic and
quintessence has regenerated him to the point where he still looks exactly the
same as he did when they snuck out of the Garrison that one oh so fateful
night. Maybe it’s been two years, maybe it’s been ten, but the Paladins all
look the same, to the dot, like they’re untouched by time. But Lance’s family doesn’t. His little sister, who used to only
reach Lance’s hip, all pigtails and freckles, maybe she’s now tall enough to reach his chest and
better at math than Lance will ever be. Maybe she has new scars Lance has never
seen or kissed away.
Maybe his mom has worry lines and grey hairs Lance knows she didn’t have when he last saw her, and maybe she talks less than he remembers. Maybe she has to pinch herself when she first sees her son after however many years, because he hasn’t changed a bit. Maybe she breaks into tears at the sight of him, and her hug is just as warm and three times as tight as Lance remembers.
Maybe his siblings give him a new scar to cherish before there’s another planet, another crisis that needs Voltron.