Can you pretty pretty please do a thing where during mission the team gets separated, and Lance encounters pretty much full force Galra on his own and *wins* but is severely injured? And then the team, realizing something is wrong when Lance won't answer them, find him almost dead and have to heal him? If nah it's chill but you have the best writing and I love your blog!
Guns are useless when you are surrounded by countless enemies wielding various form of weapons: guns, hammers, blades, etc. Lance figures this out very quickly when he’s cornered by twelve Galra soldiers with no other paladin in sight.
For each shot of his bayard, he gets hit. Hard. He’s been stabbed numerous times, whacked with a hammer that he knows is breaking bones and leaving bruises, and shot twice. One bullet pierced a little too close to his heart, and that’s what it took to get his mind kicked into gear.
As if seeing red, he snaps. He grinds his teeth together to bite back the pain clinging to every inch of his body, and he starts firing. Each shot leaves his ears ringing, but the Galra are dropping like flies around him.
When the last one falls, his collapses to his knees. Blood is all but pouring from multiple wounds, and his vision is growing dark. He can faintly hear shouting from the comms before everything goes black.
“He’s not answering.”
Shiro stares at the other three with furrowed brows. When they all managed to find each other and realized that Lance was missing, they spent the better half of ten minutes calling out to the brunet over the comms, but they were met with soft static.
“Let’s go find him,” Shiro commands, eyes narrow and determined. “Keep your guard up. There could still be Galra.”
The four creep quietly throughout the hallways of the Galra base. The silence is unsettling, and it’s leaving the four paladins on edge. Shiro’s in the lead, and with each turn of a corner, he grows more concerned. The worry has twisted into a pit within his stomach, but he keeps pressing forward. He’s going to find Lance, and Lance is going to be just fine. He repeats that over and over in his head as he leads the other three in their almost desperate search.
When they begin stumbling upon Galra bodies, Shiro’s chest swells with pride. Each corpse is sporting a large, gun wound that had to have been done by Lance’s bayard, but when they keep spotting more and more, the pride morphs into concern. There are far too many Galra soldiers for one paladin, and when he turns another corner and spots Lance’s lifeless body crumpled against the floor, his breath catches in his throat.
While Shiro’s frozen on spot, Hunk and Keith shove past the older paladin to get to Lance while Pidge grips tightly at Shiro’s arm as tears slip down her cheeks.
Keith immediately checks for a pulse while Hunk winces at the various wounds littering Lance’s body.
“He’s still alive,” Keith calls out, voice shaking, and that’s all it takes to have Shiro and Pidge closing the distance and dropping to their knees beside the others.
The pulse thumping against Keith’s fingers is weak, and the skin is cold to the touch. Lance didn’t have much time; this much Keith knew. “We have to get him into a pod. Now.” His voice is sharp, demanding, but the underlining concern and fear are evident.
“I don’t even understand how he’s alive,” Hunk whispers as his hand ghosts above a nasty gun shot wound on Lance’s chest. He knows he should feel hopeful that Lance is still alive and defying all odds, but he’s so desperately afraid for his very best friend.
“That doesn’t matter right now,” Shiro says, voice surprisingly calm despite his racing heart. “We need to get him out of here.” He barks out a few orders, and seconds later, Pidge and Keith are racing back to their lions while Hunk stands guard beside Shiro, while the latter carefully lifts Lance into his arms.
Running isn’t ideal considering Lance’s condition, but Shiro risks it. He and Hunk fall into a steady jog toward the exit. They are working with only minutes, and the faster they get Lance to a pod, the better.
Pods don’t heal memories, and when Lance stumbles out after days in one, his first reaction is to fight. He throws a slopping punch toward the closest person, but tight fingers latch onto his wrist.
“Woah, Lance! Easy! It’s just us!”
The voice is familiar, but all Lance can see is a large Galra soldier glaring down at him. Panic courses through his body, but when he tries to pull a way, he stumbles into someone else.
“Pull yourself together!”
Keith. Lance snaps his gaze to the left, and after blinking a few times, Keith’s worried face comes into focus. Slowly, he turns his eyes back to the front to see Shiro holding his wrist with Hunk, Pidge, Coran, and Allura hovering behind the older paladin.
“You with us?” Shiro asks, and Lance offers a small, apologetic nod as Shiro releases his wrist.
Lance wraps his arms around himself and drops his gaze to the ground. “There were so many,” he whispers, shivering slightly. “I thought I was still there for a moment.”
“You’re safe now.”
Lance looks up toward Hunk, and he can’t help the grin that plays at the corners of his lips when he’s met with Hunk’s beaming smile.
Shiro drapes an arm across Lance’s shoulder when he notices the brunet swaying slightly. “You did well, Lance.”
Despite the dull ache clinging to Lance’s body paired with hot flashes of weapons and guns aimed at him crossing his mind, Lance feels happy, proud even, and thankful, and he leans into Shiro’s steady, grounded warmth while the others fill him in on what happened.