#vld lance

I cannot explain his thinking process

A redraw of an old drawing for the spirit au i made like 2idh years ago

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The ship pitched suddenly, throwing the fleeing paladins violently against one wall. In a split second, another blast tossed them back against the opposite wall, and the ship began to shudder.

FUCK! Shiro thought. He bit his tongue to keep the swear inside.

“What the hell was that?!” Pidge cried, struggling to regain her balance as the hallway rocked and finally stabilized. Alejo winced.

“Sorry,” he called, “I asked Blue for a distraction. I think she—WHOA!”

They careened forward, staggering as the flat ground suddenly became a steep downhill climb. Somehow Hunk had managed to hold onto Lance through all the commotion, but Shiro could see the agony painted upon the blue paladin’s face.

“…I’ll tell her to cool it,” Alejo huffed, pulling Pidge to her feet. A moment later the motion tapered off, and they continued their journey.

Somehow, they managed to make it to the blue lion without further incident—well, if one disregarded the trail of dead soldiers and deactivated sentries they left in their wake. There had been many on the heavily guarded ship, but between the element of surprise, Blue having apparently flown around to blast three separate engines to scrap metal, and the paladins’ furious desperation to be OUT, their pursuers were doomed from the moment they began their escape. Blue was waiting for them in the nearest hangar bay, her maw already open.

Destruction surrounded her. Alejo averted his eyes from the blood and gore but managed to appreciate that she had iced over every entrance and exit aside from the one they had emerged from.

Jesus, he thought, glad to be on the right side of the chaos, she really was pissed.

Blue purred in his mind, satisfaction radiating off of her. Protect, she supplied warmly.

Sometimes it was nice being so in synch with another quintessential robot.

But he wasn’t her paladin.

It no longer hurt so much to think, after seeing the state of the original Lance McClain-Esposito.

Alejo stumbled to a halt as they all piled in, staring anxiously at the controls.

“What are you waiting for?!” Pidge demanded, nearly doubled over as she panted for breath, “Get us the—hah—FUCK—hah—OUT OF—hah—HERE!”

“I—“ Alejo glanced toward his original, guilt churning in his stomach. Lance’s eyes rose blearily to meet his, but before he could speak, Keith had shoved Alejo into the seat.

“He’s in no shape to pilot! Fly now, apologize later!”

“R-right!”

Alejo shook his head viciously and grasped the controls, fingers flying across the keyboard as he readied Blue for flight.

He slammed the gear lever forward and Blue crouched low and then, with a ferocious roar, blasted off. She tore effortlessly through the closed hangar door and soared out towards the nearest moon, where the castle was waiting.

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The healing pod opened with a hiss of frigid air, steam pouring out in thick tendrils. Six heads snapped up and immediately five bodies were clambering for the pod, arms up to catch its toppling occupant. Alejo hung back, artificial stomach turning.

Keith got there first, stumbling under the weight of the newly emerged blue paladin. Hunk and Shiro steadied them both, and Coran wrapped a thick quilt around the lot of them while Allura hovered anxiously nearby. Alejo watched as his original’s eyelids began to flutter open before his gaze ripped away. He scampered over to where Pidge lay passed out on a cot, eyes still averted from the scene. His windpipe felt swollen, as if he’d eaten an entire mango, skin and all.

Was he even allergic to mango? Or was that a human thing, only for Lance?

He didn’t know; it wasn’t as if he’d had the chance to try it since being in space.

(He’d never been anywhere else. He’d never even seen Earth, technically.)

Alejo blew out a breath and gently shook Pidge’s shoulder to wake her. He felt guilty—dios knew she needed so much more sleep than the coma-like nap she’d fallen into as soon as Lance was in a pod—but she’d likely become violent if she discovered that Lance had awoken without her, and Alejo was rightfully terrified of her wrath.

Pidge’s amber eyes slid open lazily, rolling around as she tried to remember where she was. After a moment she grumbled slightly and settled back down, eyelids sliding shut. Alejo was about to shake her again when the green paladin’s eyes snapped open like receding camera shutters, searching frantically until she focused on the bundle of blanket and paladins blocking the front of the open pod. Lance seemed to be more awake, if the way his hands had come up to grip Hunk’s and Shiro’s shirts was any indication. Hunk had one arm protectively around Lance’s shoulder and Keith appeared to be practically holding the taller boy upright.

Pidge was on her feet in an instant, flying across the room and worming her way into the pack. It parted easily for her and Lance released the others, pulling his arms down to embrace the girl that Alejo knew he saw as a sister, because he did as well.

It hurt, seeing them like this. It shouldn’t have, and Alejo hated himself for his envy. He wasn’t a part of their group, anymore. He never had been any more than a placeholder, and he was okay with that. He was.

He had just turned to slink out of the room when a warm hand met his shoulder. He faltered, turning to see Coran smiling gently at him. His eyes crinkled at the corners and his brows drew together with knowing.

“Don’t leave, my boy,” he whispered. “Please don’t leave.”

He turned back to see that the paladins’ heads had turned, all eyes on him. Alejo stared at Lance. Eyes as blue as the ocean, one glowing solid cerulean and the other darkened with the heavy burden of knowing too much pain, bore into his own. It was uncanny, the resemblance. It was terrifying. Alejo wondered how they had created such an accurate rendition of the living, breathing human before him. It was still overwhelming that that rendition was himself.

Shiro smiled at him encouragingly and Alejo reluctantly stepped back into the room, settling anxiously against the closest examination table. He averted his eyes from the group, looking down. He knew he should say something—anything—but it was as if he had broken something in his vocal processors.

A familiar voice sounded as Lance cleared his throat. Alejo’s head snapped up, bitter fear climbing up his esophagus. This was it: his condemnation.

“So, uh…” Lance swallowed painfully and Pidge immediately raced off to get him some water. “I think it’s safe to assume you’re not the sleeper agent evil twin I was led to believe you were.”

The tension in the room broke a little at the blue paladin’s comment. Alejo managed a small smile of relief, which was matched by the rest of the team. Lance stared at him expectantly until Alejo realized the ball was in his court.

“Oh! Um, yes. Hi.” He waved awkwardly. “I’m Alejo.”

Lance’s eyebrows rose, but Alejo barreled on.

“I, look, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t—you got hurt because of me, if I had realized earlier we could have saved you sooner and I—“

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears prick at their corners.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take your place.”

He opened his eyes to see Lance watching him curiously. The other paladins glanced between them nervously; it wasn’t like Lance to be so quiet.

“They told me you were a spy,” he said eventually. Alejo flinched.

“Yeah, um…” he curled in on himself. “It started that way. I was a sleeper agent, like you said. Or I was supposed to be.

“I guess I became more…complex? Than they thought. I have your quintessence, and apparently that counts for something, because when it came time for me to ‘activate’ or whatever, I didn’t follow my code like they expected.”

“He subconsciously overwrote it,” Coran said proudly, giving Alejo’s shoulder a squeeze. “Because this young lad is modeled after you, Lance, and even though he’s become his own person, he is just as loyal, kind, and brave as you are. Even the galra couldn’t force him to betray the team.”

Alejo flushed red and looked down, mouth forming a small smile against his better judgement. Lance was still watching him quietly when he looked up. There was no blame in his eyes that Alejo could see, but he still rushed to explain himself to the original blue paladin.

“I, I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know anything about my origins, or you. I thought I’d been captured and escaped from that ship by a stroke of luck.”

“We only found out about everything when he got injured a week ago and we had to put him in a cryo pod,” Pidge broke in. “The scans were… surprising.” Understatement of the year, Alejo thought. “After that we began to parse out what happened while Mr. Roboto had his identity crisis—” here Alejo scrunched his face and Shiro let out a sigh “—and managed to track your ass down.”

She was trying to lighten the mood, everyone could tell. The way she was tucked tightly under Lance’s arm, though, and her red, shadow-rimmed eyes, spoke of the panic and grief of the past several days. Lance gave her a gentle squeeze and she burrowed even more tightly into his side.

“Huh,” the blue paladin murmured, “I…I think I owe you an apology.”

Alejo blinked. “I… what?”

Lance’s lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“I spent a good amount of time cursing your existence back there. It helped at the time, but I don’t think you deserved my bad vibes.”

Alejo couldn’t help it. He snorted. The sound ripped out of him, ugly and astonished, and Lance started to giggle.

“What?” Alejo managed to croak out. Lance looked at him, giggles quickly beginning to transform into sobs.

“I—I think I went a little crazy in there,” he gasped, leaning against an increasingly worried-looking Hunk, “S-sorry.” He sniffled and wiped at his eyes.

The room dissolved again, paladins losing the battle against their emotions in a slow cascade. Alejo hung back for a moment, still trying to process the blue paladin’s words. He was a little worried about his original’s state of mind, but he couldn’t blame the guy for having a couple of screws loose. He’d been tortured, after all.

Finally he gathered the courage to wander closer to the group, carefully setting a hand on Allura’s shoulder. She gripped it with the force of a boa constrictor on steroids and he winced, but couldn’t find it in himself to pull away. Lance had his face hidden in Hunk’s shoulder and seemed to be hyperventilating while the yellow paladin rubbed his back gently and whispered calming things into his ear. Alejo looked away quickly from the intimate scene, locking eyes with Coran. The advisor looked concerned as well, but managed to hide it when Lance finally looked up.

“This is the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said through breathless tears. “I’m going to have to tell Mamá she’s got a new son, aren’t I?”

Oh, shit, Alejo thought.