[I’m writing Dualityverse fluff ficlets! (Because the latest chapters have been pure angst.)] [Read them all here.]
Set somewhere between chapters 9 and 13 of Somplace Like Home.
For once, nearly all
of the paladins were sleeping. Shiro had dragged Matt away from his
holoprojector with its model of Shiro’s cybernetic arm sometime
around midnight, and Hunk had turned in around the same time. Keith
and Allura had worn each other out on the training deck; Zelka, the
Galra refugee who had become Coran’s lieutenant, had relived him
for the night. And Shay was actually responsible enough to go to
sleep on her own. (Miracle of miracles.)
As far as Lance
could tell, it was just him and Pidge left chasing the cryptid of a
restful night’s sleep.
Lance had tried to
sleep, really he had, but Pidge had asked to use the headphones/mp3
player they’d rigged up for Lance back when all this began. Music
helped them focus on coding, apparently, and Altean ear buds (ear worms more like) were,
“among the ten worst sensory experiences in the universe.”
(Pidge’s words, though Lance tended to agree.)
had been happy to hand the headphones over, not least of all because
they were Pidge’s in the first place. But tonight his mind just
wouldn’t shut up, and his sleep mask alone wasn’t enough to trick
himself into passing out.
all honesty, he’d expected Pidge to have turned in sometime in the
hour or two Lance had spent tossing and turning, his mind jumping
from the unfinished sewing projects on his desk to refugees sleeping
two floors below to the Blue Lion, powered down for the night but
still aware enough to run off across the stars at the beckoning of
Lance’s semi-conscious wanderlust.
the insomnia finally crossed the threshold from “mildly annoying”
to “Keith levels of stab-itude,” Lance groaned and dragged
himself out of bed, fully expecting to go down to a dark workstation
and grab the unattended headphones with zero interference. He could
always return them to Pidge in the morning.
Pidge was still up when Lance
reached Green’s hangar,
their head silhouetted in the lonely light of their desk lamp. They
sat with their back to the door, headphones on, and screamed loud
enough to rouse the dead when Lance lifted one side of the headphones
and whispered, “Do you have any idea what time it is, you little