If nothing else, Lance was loyal. Through dark times and stressful situations, he stayed silent. He said nothing to Lotor when he asked about Voltron's weaknesses. He said nothing to Lotor when he asked about Keith being a galra. He even said nothing to Lotor when he offered him a deal - some information on Voltron for his own life.

Lance was dressed in his battered paladin armor, then was bound in thick ropes and led to a huge arena on board Lotor's ship. The stands were filled with Galra soldiers, generals, colonels and druids. All of them there to watch the blue paladin of Voltron die.

"My people!" Lotor's voice was magnified so that all watching could hear. "You're gathered here to watch as the Empire takes a large step towards acquiring Voltron." Lance was led into the center of the arena and tied to a pole. Blood was dripping from his forehead and soaking through the padding of his armor.

"Vrepit Sa!" The crowd roared.

"The weakling of a paladin you see before you is the right leg of Voltron! It seems a perfect analogy that without him, Voltron will fall. Soon, it shall be ours for the taking!" The crowd cheered and chanted, obviously excited for Lance's death. His stomach churned and his throat burned, but he wouldn't let the tears fall. He wouldn't give the Galra the satisfaction of seeing him broken.

"Light the fires." Lotor commanded. The two Executioners on either side of Lance lowered their torches and lit the two large bowls filled with oil. The fire spread quickly along lines dug in floor and filled with oils. Lance gasped as the flames met with his boots - his feet were protected from the heat somewhat, but it still hurt like a motherfucker.

No, I won't cry... I won't scream, I won't, I won't! Lance was gritting his teeth in an attempt not to cry, not to shout in pain. The fire was spreading up his legs, burning away the mesh part of his armor, licking mercilessly at his skin.

"Lance!" Someone screamed. He wanted to yell back but the pain was too much, it was crawling up his stomach now, burning him, tearinga this skin... "Hunk, now!"

There was a flurry of explosions that made Lance's ears ring, but he was still stuck to the pole, still burning alive. The flames were licking at his chestplate as well now, and it was all he could do not to let out a gutteral shriek...

"Lance, oh my God, fuuuuuck!" He heard another familiar voice, probably Pidge, right next to him... The fire was up to his neck now and he finally let out a muffled scream, and then the fire was gone, the heat remained but he was no longer on fire, no longer in his personal,  burning hell.

"F-fuck..." He whispered. Everything hurt, his whole body felt like it had been ripped to shreds and then melded together in a forge. He felt like someone had killed him and then brought him back to life... It was good to breathe without the smoke invading his lungs, but he wanted everything to be over... He started to fall over, into his side.

He heard fighting around him, grunts and groans, yells and screams, swords clashing and bodies crashing, shots being fired. He tried not to think of it. He wasn't dying in the middle of nowhere, he was waking up on Earth in his house, his family surrounding him with hugs and smiles...

"Good morning, Lance!" His older sister flashed him a smile... But it wasn't real. He knew it wasn't. His bedroom didn't have the echoey sounds of battle, or the worried rambles of a certain red paladin...

Keith.

"Keith."

Keith. He was real. Very real. He felt Keith's hand on his face, and he made an effort to open his eyes...

And there he was. The beautiful, worried red paladin who made his heart beat out of his chest every time he saw him.

"Lance, please, please, don't die on me now!" He pleaded. Lance gasped as pain shot up his back. He squeezed his eyes shut again.

"K-keith." Lance whispered again. He needed something to hold on to, something to live for, something to fight for. Keith. It was Keith.

"Lance! Can you hear me? Please, please..."

"I... I hear you." He muttered. He heard Keith sigh.

"Thank God, Lance. Please, just stay with me. Stay awake, stay alive. We're gonna get you out of here." Lance didn't reply verbally, but instead (with great difficulty) reached his hand towards Keith. He felt the red paladin clasp his hand, and he smiled.

°•°

When Lance came to, he was slung across Keith's lap in the red Lion. His back was throbbing, and every part of him was screaming, but he managed keep his eyes open.

"Keith." He muttered. "What's going on?"

"Don't worry." The red paladin answered softly. "We're close to the castle. You're gonna be okay."

°•°

Lance stumbled out of the healing pod, cold and disoriented. Keith caught him and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Lance sighed contentedly.

"Now that you're here, I am."