Pidge wanted to kill something.

More accurately, whatever psycho had thought up this fucking torture chamber.

She hadn't even seen all of the - things - as they'd come through the far wall, but she knew enough about psychos and sadistic bastards to want to burn everything in this awful, dark, cold cell to ashes, douse the ashes in kerosene, and burn it again.

After they got their friend out, of course.

Keith may be the Guardian of the Fire, but she didn't want to burn him to ash.

Especially not when he - looked like - this.

She skidded to a halt in front of him while the others held off the guards to this prison.

This prison where the enemy had had Keith for days.

She swore, wishing she were taller, and only then remembered she had her jetpack on.

Without further delay, she flew up to where his wrists were secured to the wall and sliced right through the bonds with her bayard.

Then she realized he was in no condition to stand once he was free.

"Shit!"

Without hesitation, she cut the power to her jetpack and dropped three feet in half as many seconds, so she managed to break his fall. Barely.

She wasn't sure how, but she ended up kneeling on the ground, holding him in her arms and babbling as she checked him for damage as he tried to open one eye and look up at her.

"Shit - Keith - oh God - is there - is there anywhere you aren't bleeding?"

He didn't respond, and his eye slid shut before she could figure out if he'd recognized her or not.

Swearing under her breath, she pulled out the salve Slav had given her and tried to open the bottle with shaking hands.

Stop the bleeding - right - okay - well - um - that was - going to be - really really difficult - um -

It took her four tries to realize her hands were shaking too badly to manage both tasks. She tried pulling the cork out with her teeth, cursed when that didn't work, and finally laid Keith as gently as she could on the ground and then managed to pry the stupid bottle open after trying three times in a row.

When she laid him on the ground, one of his eyelids twitched, and she thought it was so weird, to see him this still, so very not-Keith, and she felt every muscle in her body begin shaking in unmitigated fury at the bastards who had done this, wanted to get up and help the other Paladins tear the jackasses into shreds, but she forced herself to focus on Keith, on applying the salve to the worst of the injuries she could see.

There were burns, and cuts, and broken bones, and although she tried, she really tried to remember that all this would be healed in time, she still winced whenever she felt Keith shrink away from her touch, and when he finally did open one of his eyes, it was glassy and bloodshot and unseeing, and she felt her heart break as he stared up at her without recognition.

Could he even see out of that eye anymore?

Had they - had they blinded her friend?

Come to think of it, there were huge noises everywhere around them, and light, and sound, but Keith didn't seem to see or hear anything.

Oh, stars, was he deaf, too?

Or - was it - was it - that he didn't - remember her, anymore?

What if they'd wiped his mind?

What if the non-cog protocol was irreversible?

She bit her lip, feeling the tears start to come again, and angrily tried to blink them away, out of existence, because there wasn't time, dammit, there wasn't time for her to cry over how badly her friend was hurt or how much she just wanted to kill something -

All she could do was gather Keith up into her arms and try to let him know that they'd finally come for him, that it was going to be just fine, that all he had to do was hold on a little bit longer, and then they could get him all healed up.

Keith's eye had closed again, and she tried to hold him steady while chaos raged all around them, because that was her role, they'd all agreed she'd be the one to let Keith know it was all right, that they were there to get him out, she'd insisted on it, and by the stars above she was going to make sure he knew he was safe now -

But he was scared of her, she could tell he was scared, and blind, and in pain, and she wanted to help, but she didn't know how, and now his entire body was trembling, and she finally started crying and buried her face against his shoulder, because he was scared, he was scared of her, and she thought her heart would break.

"Keith - Keith, please, it's okay - please don't be scared of me - I'm here to help, I swear - we're going to get you help, okay, so please don't be scared - I swear I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just - I'm just trying to help you - please - Keith - Keith, it's me, it's Katie, it's all of us, we're here to get you out, okay?"

She was babbling again, and she wanted to stop, to be calm and steady and rational, but it was just too hard - they'd come so close to losing him - she hadn't slept in over three days - and every one of her nerves was shot straight to hell -

"…hurts…" he whimpered, and she felt so useless that all she could do was cry and try to tell him again that he was safe, and that they were going to get him out.

His other eye opened then, and this time, he seemed to hear her.

"…Ka…Ka…tie…?"

She nodded vigorously, clutching him closer, as if through sheer force of will she could make him stay with her, stay with them, stay alive.

"Keith, yeah, it's me, it's all of us, we're here, and we're kicking ass - so just - "

But his eyes had closed again, and she felt terror seize her by the throat.

No.

No, please.

No, please, no, not Keith - not her friend - please - he couldn't -

She shook him by the shoulder, not even realizing she was babbling again.

"Keith, please, please stay with me - you can do it, if anyone can do it, it's you - please, Keith, please - "

When she saw his chest rise and fall once more, she realized he was saying something. She leaned closer, so that she could hear him better.

"…they…said…you wouldn't…come…" he whispered, and all she could do was snort in derisive scorn at the arrogant Alteans who had lied to him.

"Yeah, well, uh, sucks to be them, eh? Self-righteous bastards-"

A faint smirk appeared at the corner of Keith's mouth, but it tightened into a grimace of very real, very awful pain. He turned his head stiffly, tried to reach up and take hold of the sparking, half-installed cybernetic wiring at the back of his skull, but she grabbed hold of his fingers with one of her own hands and gently squeezed them as reassuringly as she could manage while keeping him from hurting himself further.

"No, Keith, no, please don't do that, it's bad for you - Slav will fix it - he'll fix it back at headquarters, just as soon as we -"

"…it hurts…it…hurts…"

She clutched his hand tighter as he broke off, his face tightening in intense pain, the kind that didn't leave room for civilized things like coherent thought or sentences or the ability to do anything except beg for the pain to stop.

"I know, Keith. I'm sorry. I'm here."

Fuck, they needed their backup. They needed the healing pods. They needed a medical professional who knew what to do, because Keith was dying, and this stupid salve could only stop bleeding for a short period of time, but it couldn't fix this, it couldn't take the damage of the cybernetic implants away, and now Keith had started shaking, full-body spasms of agony, and he was crying now from the pain of his injuries as the non-cog protocol fractured and shattered under the strain of accumulated stimuli.

Which - come to think of it - had been the sick intent all along - bring him to the brink of a full emotional, physical, and mental breakdown and then just - make it all go away - forever - unless he annoyed them - and then it would hurt again, just like this - and then it would be back to nothingness - and on and on and on again - until - until he died.

Gods, that was so evil.

Peace and stability.

Such noble words, such worthy concepts.

But they weren't worth this cost.

Nothing could be worth this.

Nothing could justify this hideous use of science to manipulate people, real people like Keith who were so much more than mere words or abstract concepts.

People mattered.

What the Alteans wanted were puppets.

And they had hurt her friend, to try and make him into one.

Tears burned in her own eyes as she heard her friend try to scream, but he didn't have the breath to manage anything but a short, harsh cry.

"Katie," he sobbed, "please - it hurts -"

"I know - I'm sorry - Keith - I'm so sorry - please - please hold on - we're going to get you help - I promise - I promise - "

She hugged him tighter, saw his tears splash onto her armor, onto her gloves, and she wished she could help, could do something other than just be there for him, but there was nothing she could do except tell him that she was there, as they waited for their team to finish fighting, and get them out.

Pidge vowed then that given the slightest opportunity, she would find whoever had thought up the non-cog protocol, and she would kill them.

But for the moment, rescuing Keith was more important.