Dedicated to httpblueboy - here's my writing sample for ya!

(No Voltron AU)

Lance stared at the stars, a feeling of intense wondering growing inside him. He wanted to badly to be part of something, something bigger than himself. Bigger than his family. Bigger than his small town. He wished that they could go back to Cuba. He liked it there, but he knew that his family would make more money here. His parents could be happy here. His siblings could be happy here. But could he be happy here?

Oregon was beautiful, there was no doubt. It was filled with trees and flowers and he loved living in the capital city, but he missed his home.

So he stared up at the stars and prayed that he could find something that would fulfill his wild imagination. The stars only twinkled in response.

Four Years Later

Lance kept his eyes down and his hood up, cursing the heavy rain that came with the spring months. He much preferred it to the summer days when everything and everyone was hot and sticky and miserable, but he wasn't a huge fan of the rain either. Rain meant mud, and mud meant one hell of a mess to clean off the carpet.

A few cars drove by him as he walked, but not any significant amount. Even the busy road he lived next to had quieted down, leaving only a few passing cars and some lumps of burned scrap metal from various accidents. Lance rolled his eyes - damn tourists. Some people just don't know how to drive in the rain.

If it were any other time of day, Lance might sing. He had fallen in love with the old movie, Singing in the Rain, but he was much too tired to try and sing and dance through the muddy road. He still admired Gene Kelly for his wonderful portrayal of the male lead, Don Lockwood. One of Lance's favorite things to do was watch the scene where Gene (as Don) danced down the nearly empty street in the rain. He noticed that if he looked, he could see light up near the top of the screen in certain shots when the camera looked just slightly too high and over the set.

He loved that movie, no matter how cheesy and outdated it was. It would always be a classic in his heart.

Lance knew a lot of older movies, some of them from very different eras and widely different genres. For example, Singing in the Rain and RoboCop. He loved them both, despite the vast differences.

As much as Lance loved movies, it couldn't compare to how much he loved the stars. On a clear night, he could point out dozens of constellations just from his backyard. He loved the view he got from climbing in the oak tree by the fence. He would constantly Snapchat pictures of the stars, or post them to Twitter, or sometimes Instagram.

Although the wishes he made never came true, he still wished every night on the first star he saw. Well, every night that he could see the stars. Lance wouldn't be able to see a thing in this muddy, wet haze.

He was very close to his house when a car drove by him. As it passed him, a car with no headlights on honked at the other driver (who was on the right side of the road) before swerving off to the right. The car with its headlights on, while attempting to avoid an accident, slid to the left...

And into Lance.

~

Lance woke up an unmeasurable amount of time later in a great deal of pain. He couldn't tell what exactly was wrong, but he couldn't move his legs.

He tried to sit up and succeeded, but it took a great deal of energy and concentration. He wrenched his eyes open and took a few deep breaths. An IV was hooked up to his arm and a blanket was pulled up to his stomach. His arm was in a cast but didn't hurt too much. What he was worried about was his legs.

"I'm sorry." Someone said hoarsely. He turned his head to the left, where a pale-skinned ravenette sat with folded arms. "This was my fault. I... I should have been more careful."

"What..." Lance's voice was dry and rough, and he had to take a minute to clear his throat. The result wasn't much of an improvement, but it didn't hurt as much. "What happened? The last thing I remember was that I was walking home, and then... There was a car, and then another one... And then..." Lance's breath hitched as he remembered the pain of getting hit with several hundred pounds of metal and plastic. He remembered the faces of some paramedics, and his mamá...

"I didn't see you walking there. I tried to get out of the way. There was a car who didn't have his lights on - I barely saw him in time. But when I tried to get out of his way..." The man squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm so, so sorry. I can never make up for this, for what I've done." Lance's stomach was doing backflips.

"What is it? What can you not make up for?" Lance asked meekly. He knew already what the answer was, but he wanted desperately to hear differently.

"You... You're never going to walk again." Lance closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. He didn't want to cry, he really didn't, but he didn't want to lose his ability to walk, either, and he couldn't stop that. No, he had to be strong. He had to be tough, for his mamá and papá and his siblings. All of his siblings, and his friends. He didn't care how hard it would be. He would be strong because he had to be. Because it was his only option.

"It isn't your fault." Lance said quietly. "I mean, yeah, you hit me, but you didn't mean to. You were trying to save your life and the lives of whoever was in that car, or in your car." The man nodded gravely in agreement.

"Do you want to meet them?" He asked.

"Who?" Lance was confused. Did he miss something?

"The people who were in the car with me."

"Are they here?"

"Yeah, they felt bad. They're outside, but the doctor would only let me in, because he knows me and he knows I'm the one who... Well, they're outside."

"They can come in. Hey, uh, what's your name?"

"Keith." Lance tried out the name.

"Keith." He liked the way it sounded. "I love that name. I'm Lance." Lance smiled at Keith as he left the room. He came back less than ten seconds later with five other people.

"I'm so glad you're awake! I'm Hunk." One said. Hunk was fairly talk and very muscular, and slightly chubby.

"Hey, I'm Katie, but you can call me Pidge if you want." Another said. She was short with long brown hair pulled into a ponytail.

"My name is Takashi, but these idiots call me Shiro." Shiro was the tallest one there with black and white hair and a prosthetic arm.

"We're not idiots!" Pidge pouted, and Lance chuckled.

"I'm Coran, the gorgeous man!" Coran was almost as tall as Shiro, if not the same height, and he had bright orange hair.

"My name is Allura." The remaining woman said. She had long white hair and dark skin close to the color of chocolate. She had an almost English accent.

"Hey, you left out the most important detail about yourself!" Shiro said teasingly. Allura's face flushed red.

"I'll tell him later, it's not important now." She muttered.

"Fine." Shiro smiled playfully.

"I'm, uh, Lance. It's nice to meet you all."

"It's nice to meet you too, Lance.

Two Years Later

Lance would never forget the accident that took away the use of his legs. But it was that night that had led to the defeat of the Universe's worst tyrant ever. If Keith hadn't accidentally hit him, thousands of people would have died. So while Lance wasn't happy about his situation at first, he was happy that the stars had finally given him his wish.

The stars had given him Voltron.