Okay so this is a little side project that literally bit me in the face and I found myself writing one day in a fever dream. I'm actually working on a totally different fic (sort of a post-season 2 divergence, I guess it comes under fix-it but honestly it mostly just makes things go much much worse let's be fucking real). ANYWAY.

This one has swearing and magic and insanity. I'll rate it up because there is a bit of gore, and knowing me the other chapters will have gore too, but it's not super graphic. I'll warn on the other chapters if it gets really bad.

There will be six chapters in total! As you could probably guess from the title.

Enjoy my little sidepiece!

The first time Lance did it, he took an entire battlecruiser down with him.

Pain sang in Lance's right shoulder as he ran- sprinted- down the halls, leaping over the smoking ruins of sentries. His own footsteps thundered in his head, shuddering up his spine out of time with the red throbbing in his eyes; his heart drummed in his chest, too fast for him to pick out individual beats. Too fast from adrenaline and exertion and- fear.

How the hell had this mission gone so wrong?

They'd meant to sneak in - two cruisers, two parties - and just get what they needed from the databanks. Easy in, easy out. A mission they'd done dozens of times. It was a little sticky, trying to coordinate on two cruisers, but their radios reached that far - bounced along by the Green and Blue Lions - so they'd managed the in part just fine.

Hunk, as expected, had taken longer than Pidge to get into the cruiser's systems. He was an engineer at heart, not a techie - he was running on an eight hour crash course the day before. Lance was on board with Hunk and Shiro; they'd expected more trouble, so they'd been the bigger team. Right now, Lance was wishing they'd stuck to the safety-in-numbers thing.

It hadn't been his fault, really. Seriously. But they'd swept through the sentries that had found them without issue, fast enough to earn a brief pause. Shiro in the front, Lance perched behind a little, sniping whatever Shiro missed.

And god, but seeing Shiro fight never got any less unsettling. The man just… let loose something. Maybe it was the arm; maybe it was the torture he'd been put through to get it. It made Lance's skin crawl, if he thought about it too long. So of course, when Hunk had reported Galra approaching - actual, flesh-blood soldiers - Lance had popped up before Shiro could speak and offered to distract them.

"I got this! Stay here, Shiro!" And already out the door.

…

Okay. Offered was too diplomatic a word. But while Lance held no affection for the Galra Empire and its soldiers… it still sat wrong, watching Shiro tear them apart without hesitation. At least if Lance got their attention, he could just disable them. It had to be better than murdering them.

Of course, getting caught full in the back with a shot from an energy rifle hadn't exactly endeared the bastards to him either. It hadn't been until Lance had toppled forward, rolled, and collided with the the corner - taking the impact directly on his shoulder - that he'd started to regret his decision.

Kind of starting to wish Shiro had killed them.

But now- now it was just running, bayard clutched tight in one hand but unformed - the rifle was too clunky for fleeing. And he was fleeing. He'd already shot four of them. Well- technically, he'd shot sixteen of them, but twelve had only been in the kneecaps. Four of them… Three had been in the chest; one had slipped at the last second and torn through the soldier's throat.

But Lance kept running, because they were still chasing and he was still ducking energy shots and skidding madly around corners.

"Hunk? Shiro! Are you guys done yet? I-" Lance broke off, letting out a sharp yell as he skidded around a corner only to see another contingent of soldiers coming at him at the far end. "Oh, shit- Guys!"

"Just finishing up now, Lance. Try to make your way back to us, if you can."

Oh! Oh, that was a great idea! "Oh yeah, of course, Shiro, that didn't occur to me - I'll just do that!" Maybe it came out hysterical, but Lance was currently looking around - frantic - because he was pinned in this hallway.

He was met with a moment of static, before Shiro responded again. "Okay, Lance. I'm coming for y-"

"Are you insane?!" Lance yelped, flinging himself against the wall, behind one of the wide ribs that filled Galra architecture, so that only the ones chasing him could see him. For now. Bracing himself against the wall, Lance lifted his bayard and- touched it with his soul- and channelled quintessence into it. He knew the feeling by now, but he tried not to think about it. It was instinctual, and Lance could never touch his quintessence otherwise. (He'd tried. A lot).

The weapon glowed, Lance's energy becoming matter as the bayard's mass and weight increased, expanding in his hands. A familiar sensation, into a familiar shape.

For a moment, even as Lance tightened his grip and then forced himself to relax it, even as he took a breath and tilted his head and closed one eye, even then, his heart sank in his chest. It was a hollow feeling - a numb one. I'm going to kill these Galra. And they were Galra and they deserved it, and it was war and he was justified, but it was still murder - and he was still responsible.

I'm prepared for this. I accept the consequences.

Shiro was still talking to him, a distracting rattle on the radio, but Lance blocked it out. Shiro would come or he wouldn't - he would abandon Hunk (who was by all accounts the weakest fighter of them all, not that it mattered when he contributed so much else) - or he wouldn't. Lance exhaled until his lungs were empty, his body still, and then fired a shot. The trigger offered the tiniest resistance, just enough to give a satisfying click as it compressed, and then the shot screamed through the lead Galra's head and she sprawled to the floor in a mess of her own brain and bright purple blood. The rifle didn't even twitch his hands; and Lance was already shifting, aiming at the next Galra and squeezing off the shot.

He got off nineteen shots before the others reached him. Eighteen Galra lay dead before him, bodies sprawled unnaturally, blood puddling under the pile, bright and sticky. Black stains dotted the mass of corpses, the stench of shit and scorched fur filling the air. It was almost a relief when the second group of Galra reached him, grabbing at him.

Blue. Please, Blue.

And she was right there, swelling into his mind, arctic water trickling in through every crevice. A low pressure rumbled through him, Blue's comforting purr. The nausea fell away, the fear, the dread, the guilt. Ice had filled his body, replacing his blood with liquid nitrogen - his breath fogged the air as he breathed.

They were trying to kill him. They were trying to capture him and do worse. Unacceptable. Blue would not lose another Paladin. Lance would not allow it. She loved him.

His eyes were cold as he kicked out, still braced against the wall. The deep blue had turned frozen, his breath a steady winter wind in his body, while Blue's tide roared through his mind and she watched through his senses. They were in danger. They would fight back.

It was not the first time that Lance had done this. It would not be the last. Blue and Lance were one, Lance's body and Blue's strength; the Lion felt no guilt, no mercy. If she must kill, then she must. She did not apologise for what was necessary. Right now, Lance needed that. He needed to fight, or he would die.

But the bodies lay before him, their faces engraved in his mind, his bayard warm in his hands. Without Blue, all he could feel was the threat of scorch marks on his hands, thoroughly protected by his gloves - the ache that he would feel later, when their faces came back to haunt him. When it was dark and silent and lonely.

So Blue pressed into every part of him, released a roar - a call to action. Lance kicked his feet into the Galra's chest, throwing his weight up, and then pressed the barrel of his bayard to her head.

Beautifully cold, every movement like the flow of rain, Lance fired, three times, pushing away. For a single, precarious moment, Lance hung suspended in the air, upside down, his body arching and twisting simultaneously. Then, the blizzard hit them all.

Lance kicked off the wall and went sailing over their heads, igniting his jetpack and spinning midair. The rifle rose, and Lance saw the whole world tinged in blue, as if his bullets' paths were already mapped and destined. He squeezed off five shots (five deaths) before he landed.

Sideways. Skidded back ten feet, baring his teeth and trying to aim accurately as he went. Four more shots went off before he collided with the far wall - four more shots missed wildly.

There were only a few Galra left here, now. Blue surged up inside him, bringing Lance to his feet almost without his consent, rifle lifting, taking aim. The soldiers hesitated, stepping away from him - aware that engaging him meant death. But Lance couldn't see clearly through the azure haze anymore, and Blue's growling was the only thing he could feel, eclipsing his heartbeat, eclipsing his breath.

They were trying to hurt him. Blue would not let anyone hurt him.

Lance tilted his head, closed one eye, and took aim. One of the Galra's heads blew apart. Frost filled Lance's lungs, thoughts frozen; the inside of his mind was just a constant quivering growl, the touch of the ocean at midnight - water over his head, encasing him completely, dragging him out like a riptide. They will not harm me- you- my Paladin- my Lance. Another of the Galra collapsed, his chest blown open, tiny glinting bones exposed as he fell, and bled.

"Lance!" came the distant shouting, just barely piercing the rushing water that filled his body. "Lance, where are you? Get back to Blue, we're done! Are you okay, Lance?"

Back to Blue…? It didn't make sense, even as the last remaining soldiers turned tail and ran. Lance stepped forward, aiming carefully, and shot one clean through the back of the neck. He flew forward, sprawling, and the last soldier tripped on his limbs, slamming into the floor face first. Back to Blue? Why did he need to go back when Blue was right here inside him, beside him, filling every crevice that he had to spare? The steady cold was in him, part of him. A deep, infinite ocean - fathomless - doubtless.

"Lance, respond!" Scared. Shiro - Sable Paladin - sounded scared.

Lance approached the last Galra, even as she twisted on the floor and stared up at him, eyes wide. Scared. What was their creed, again? Holding his stance, Lance set his feet by the soldier's face and hefted his rifle, aiming right between her eyes. "Victory or death."

Her face ruptured into blood and brain and smouldering fur.

"Lance?" That was Hunk- Yellow Paladin- his best friend. "Where are you, Lance?"

"Safe."

"We can deal with this later, Hunk." Sable Paladin- Shiro- he sounded… strange. Strained. "Lance, we're ready to get the hell out of here. Make your way back to your Lion."

It still didn't make sense, not really. His Lion was right here, he was with her - was her. But Lance nodded, letting his quintessence drain from the rifle until it morphed back into its dormant state, before locking it into his Paladin armour. He would obey the Black's orders; that was how it should be. "Yes-" Shiro. Sable? No. "Yes, Black Paladin."

"Yes-" Lance stopped, suddenly, as if he didn't know what to call him. Shiro's heart skipped, even as he kept slinking through the ship, Hunk on his heels. As if they needed to add anymore proof that something was wrong with Lance. Was it even Lance? Victory or Death. What reason did he have to be reciting the Galran mantra? But he had - and only after the sounds of an impressive firefight. "Yes, Black Paladin."

Shiro and Hunk stared at each other for a long moment, until Hunk quietly - guiltily - reached up and silenced his microphone. "What… What's wrong with him, Shiro?"

Footsteps. Shiro waved Hunk into silence and pressed back against the wall, pressing a hand against Hunk's chestplate to keep him back too. He didn't think the younger Paladin needed the touch, but Shiro couldn't help it. He was guiding Hunk through this battlecruiser; he had to make certain Hunk stayed safe.

After a full minute, Shiro relaxed slightly again, peeked around the corner, and then beckoned Hunk after him. A second and his microphone was muted too. "I don't know, Hunk. But we can't do anything about it here. We have to get back to base first. We can… look after him there."

Hunk didn't seem reassured, but that was hardly surprising. Shiro wasn't being particularly reassuring. Carefully, they made their way towards the Blue Lion where she waited, silently praying that Lance would be there.

He wasn't.

Shiro tried desperately to swallow back the panic in his throat, kept his face as neutral as he could. In Hunk's eyes was the same fear - if Shiro showed it, Hunk would only worsen. "Hunk, get in the Blue Lion. She'll keep you safe. I'll go find Lance."

Wide-eyed, Hunk shook his head. "Shiro, you shouldn't go back out there alone. What if you can't find him? What if he's already… I dunno, something! What if you get hurt as well? What-"

"Hunk." It was sharp; a command. He had to maintain control of this situation. No point, it's already out of control. Shiro boxed that thought. "Get inside Blue. We'll attract more attention together than just me alone. And we can't leave Lance out there."

Hunk nodded, bullied into seeing the logic by Shiro's tone, but his eyes were shining - on the verge of tears. "Okay. Just… stay safe. Okay?"

Forcing a smile, Shiro reached out and put a hand - his human hand - on Hunk's shoulder. "Of course, Hunk. Now get inside. I'll be right back, I promise."

But, of course, Shiro broke that promise.

They were running again - but this time, they weren't fleeing. They were racing, rushing through the ship, following orders but unthreatened, unbound. The world was a flowing river, and they were screaming rapids - and they obliterated whatever dared cross them.

They were heading back to… to the place they were. It was… too hard to parse beyond that. Sable Paladin had ordered them return, so return they would. Few enemies stood in their way, so little prey left on this ship. So instead they just moved, bounded down the hallways and around corners, following the link between their mind and their… her…? form. They were wild and flowing and free, and there was nothing they feared.

And so they didn't see it coming.

Careening around a corner, momentum taking them into a leap and then springboarding off the far wall so as not to lose any, almost back to… home- almost there. They leapt off the wall, sailing through the air - right over the head of a Galra soldier.

Something bright flashed out, and they twisted midair - achieved nothing. Pain opened in their side, a touch that burned cold on their skin and flowed in deep. They- Lance- He hit the floor and crumpled, rolling. Something pushed against the pain, tore it sideways, and they let out a scream as they- he skidded to a stop.

The Galra came closer.

Lance, he was Lance-

Oh god, he'd killed-

So many.

The Galra came closer.

Lance couldn't move, could barely- He looked down, hands shaking, looking for why it hurt so much. Shiny black and silver, it stuck out from his side, stuck clean through the flexible waist of his armour; a Galra blade. Purple winked at him - a grip? - and red pulsed out from behind it, spreading, staining, everywhere.

"B-Blue," Lance managed, looking up into the Galra's eyes, glinting solid yellow in the light. Blue!

This time, she didn't push into him from the cracks. The water of her mind didn't trickle and then rush in and fill up the space his thoughts left behind. Blue broke, the walls in Lance's mind bursting apart like a dam wall under too much pressure. Water filled his mind, drowned him from the inside out. Her quintessence vented through their bond, from her body to his - a geyser of ice that he couldn't fight or control.

Lance didn't even try.

He screamed again, his breath a white fog that clouded above his head. His skin felt like it might split open, the cascade of energy overwhelming his body, his senses, his mind. Lance couldn't think about anything else - couldn't remember anything else. It was just Blue and blue and liquid ice crashing down on him like a tsunami. His eyes were wide, unseeing; the irises glowed, colour widening, eclipsing the sclerae, the pupils.

They turned gold.

For a single, brief moment, Lance screamed - an unearthly, pealing sound. His breath was frozen in the air, an opaque white mist, and frost formed across his Paladin armour in whorls, beautiful patterns that crossed and crossed and spread until everything was rimed, and the patterns exploded out across the hall. His blood froze where it had bled, shining crimson ice.

The Galra's feet froze to the floor. Light began to bleed out of Lance, a searing white-blue light; cold. It burned. Lance felt it press out of every pore, an overflow of power, quintessence scorching and freezing at the same time. Tears crept from his eyes, but they chilled to ice immediately - stuck to his skin, the soft skin just under his eyes and on the inner curve of his nose. His eyelashes were coated in frost - tears froze to ice against his corneas, blinding him. The rushing of Blue's quintessence, her magic, her soul, filled Lance's ears, infinite, immense - a screaming, frozen waterfall.

And yet, Blue didn't stop, didn't pull back. Her power kept streaming in, gushing - swelling until the only thing Lance could do was burst.

"Shiro, have you found him yet?" Pidge was quiet in her pilot seat, tirelessly working. Somehow, she was following three screens at once, even as new information scrolled across all of them, tracking everything. She was flying, too, keeping the Green Lion moving, keeping it out of range of Galra attack, keeping them safe.

Keith was about to lose his fucking mind, standing back from her, staying out of the way, doing nothing. But they were already home free, out of the battlecruiser and just waiting for Lance to get Blue and rendezvous. There was no alternative for him but open space.

It was an option that Keith didn't especially relish. So instead, he stood, slightly stooped so he didn't bang his head on the ceiling of the cockpit - somehow, despite Green and Red being about the same size and build, he couldn't stand fully straight inside Green without banging his head. It was a close thing, in Red, but he was careful, he could just barely… almost stand straight.

Shiro was still quiet when he responded, sneaking around the other battlecruiser, but his voice was strained. He sounded how he'd sounded when Keith had gotten lost at the zoo as a child. "No. I'm still looking. Did you locate him yet?"

Maybe just a touch snappy. "No!" Pidge snapped back, tapping one of her screens with a little more force than was really warranted. "He's still below you. That's all I got."

"Uh… g-guys?" came Hunk's voice; presumably, he was curled up in the Blue Lion awaiting her pilot. Keith couldn't imagine. "It's… g-getting reall-ly c-cold in here." What? Hunk was supposed to be inside a Lion - they didn't get cold. Not on the inside. Not unless they were dead.

Keith opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, and he heard Pidge's sharp intake of breath, but Hunk let out a shrill cry of distress before either of them could speak. "Ah- Shit! Guys! Sh-she's… I d-dunno, she's d-doing someth-thing! Sh-Shiro!" And Keith could hear it, in the background, crackling across their comms. A low sound, rushing, like a Lion's roar but somehow… different. Deeper. The grumble of the open desert before an earthquake.

"... What the hell?" It was muttered, to himself more than anyone, and Keith stepped forward to study the monitors over Pidge's shoulder. For once, she didn't snap at him to back off. "I don't get it, what could she be- uh… Pidge? Tell me you see that."

Pointing, to somewhere way down the far end of the cruiser, a tiny pinprick of… light? It looked… blue.

"Ahhhhh!"

They both flinched, Keith's hands twitching like he was going to hurl his helmet away, as the shrill wail blew across their radio. It was just for a moment, but it left Keith's ears ringing and a sharp pain building in his temples - rising with the sudden cold dread in his chest. "... Pidge… Was that…? Did that sound like…?"

Pidge met his gaze, amber eyes wide and glistening. "... That was Lance." Whispered, horrified, but with absolute confidence. Keith didn't question it.

"Shiro, what's happening down there?!" he shouted, looking away from Pidge and her wide, wide eyes. He didn't get an immediate response. Down to the far, far right, the tiny pinprick of light had gotten brighter, bigger. Something was happening to the ship, something… weird, and shining, and spreading. "Pidge… can you get closer? Take a look at that."

Without a word, Pidge shifted Green into gear and drifted in closer, moving around to get a proper look at the light. For a moment, as they approached, Keith doubted his own sight. This was a spacefaring ship, and battlecruiser big enough to house easily half a billion souls; it was designed to withstand space, the subzero temperatures that existed so far beyond the touch of sunlight. Frost forming on the outer hull of a ship was a disastrous event - and even then, the cruisers never breached atmosphere. Ice could only form if there was moisture.

But there it was, shining in the faint light from the cruiser and the Lion, slowly spreading to coat the ship from the glowing point of light outwards. Ice.

For another long moment, Keith and Pidge stared at each other. "... That's… not possible."

"Blue can make ice." Keith wasn't sure where it came from, the realisation, the fully composed sentence that he barely heard himself blurt out. But it struck him, and his heart lurched, and he felt Red's absence so keenly, a hollow in his mind like the embers of a bonfire. "Blue can make ice from… nothing."

Over the radio, Shiro gasped. "From quintessence. No wonder I can feel the cold through my armour. If Blue's-"

"Uh, I hate to interrupt y-your theorycrafting, but Blue isn't doing this. I mean… I don't think she is. It's c-cold in here, but not that cold." Hunk. Hunk was inside Blue, so if it was the Lion, he should know. At least be able to tell.

"Is she still active?"

"... Oh. Well, yeah - she's moving about a bit. Growling. But Lance is lost on this battleship, isn't that a normal resp-"

Something exploded, a crackling roar, and then the radio went dead. A faint static buzzed across Keith's ears. "Shiro? Shiro! Hunk! Pidge, what the hell do we do?"

"I don't know!" she cried back, hands flying across her screens, all to no effect. In front of them, the ice had crept out beyond their sphere of vision, glistening - encasing the whole cruiser.

"... Pidge. I think we should move back." She looked up at him, confused - but Keith's eyes were locked on the Galra ship. The ice was starting to form out, tiny spikes that grew even as he watched. "Pidge!" Keith was jerked off his feet as Pidge finally responded, the Green Lion leaping backwards and then away from the battlecruiser. He didn't try to get up, was pretty sure he couldn't keep his footing, but he pushed himself up enough to look out, staring, horrified.

Shiro was in there. Lance was in there, Hunk was in there. The Blue Lion was in there. And the ice had consumed the whole cruiser, spiking out, glittering, like a tiny frozen sun.

Then, quite suddenly, the ice stopped growing. For a moment there was nothing; absolute silence. Not even the static inside Keith's helmet. Slowly, Keith and Pidge looked at each other - Keith, sprawled out on the floor of Green's cockpit, Pidge twisted in her seat with both hands clenched painfully around the flightwheels.

There was a crack.

It whooshed out around them, emanating from the cruiser. Keith wasn't sure how they heard it. Sound didn't travel well (read: at all) in space, so they couldn't have heard it through the Lion; and Green wouldn't have detected the sound, wouldn't have transmitted it to the cockpit like it did with sound inside an atmosphere. It could have been their comms, because for all the silence and static, Keith had never switched his off - but the noise was too deep, too clear. It rumbled in Keith's chest, like the thud of heavy bass, something that made his heart stop and his body tremble.

Did they just feel it? Was in it all in his mind anyway?

Pidge seemed just as shaken, turning her head back to look towards the cruiser, her body still twisted around, shoulders tipped sharply. She's going to put her spine out of whack. The thought was hysterical.

And then, almost in slow motion, the cruiser broke. Ice shot out through the hull - from the inside - in line with where the light had started, a monolithic sheet, jagged and gleaming. Silently (sound didn't travel in space) the cruiser broke apart, the smaller part falling away from the rest and spinning slowly. Almost delicately. Like a ballet.

From her seat, Pidge let out a choked sound. "Hunk? Lance?" she managed, and then, in an even smaller voice, "Shiro?"

They got no response.

Something exploded in the side of the ship, shards of ice flew out everywhere, spiralling like tiny stars - Blue shot past, a wide streak of colour, from the main section of ship to the smaller. Lance. "Pidge, go!" Keith sounded rough even to himself, voice locked up in his throat, but it didn't matter. He felt sticky, sweat clinging to the bodysuit under his armour, and even as he finally tried to rise to his feet everything felt… wrong. Just a little off. Like his body wasn't entirely... his. The armour had never felt heavier.

But Pidge gunned it anyway, and they came to the small part of the ship just as they realised the ice was growing again. Pieces kept shearing through the hull, shattering the ship fragment from the inside out. Around them, scraps of metal floated in a cloud of debris, even as the lights kept flickering out.

Bodies, too. Discoloured and bloated and burst. Covered in frost. Keith tried desperately not to search them, not to look for Paladin armour. Somehow, the purple fur frozen into spikes and stained with blood and body juice didn't make him feel less sick.

"Wait- Keith. Keith! I see him!" Pidge veered sideways, and Keith saw the Blue Lion peeking through as the ice sheared out and broke apart itself, fragments glittering in between wreckage and corpses as if they could make this new graveyard beautiful. She hovered, still, nose down, jaw parted-

Lance.

Lance floated, but Keith honestly wasn't sure how Pidge had spotted him so quickly. His armour was completely coated in ice, a thick shell that made him seem like a carving. A furious hope burned painfully in Keith's chest as they approached, took in the full reality of the sight: Please let his helmet be closed.

The ice shell encased him entirely, and Keith couldn't help but picture what the inside might look like. Open helmet, ice pouring in through the gap - protecting Lance from space, but filling every crevice, burning skin and freezing blood, filling his mouth and nose and ears, filling his throat - his lungs - his skull. Ice, consuming everything until it wasn't Lance inside that armour anymore.

But the Blue Lion opened her mouth and caught Lance inside it, wide metal teeth clicking together and sealing. It was all they could do. Keith just had to hope.

He felt hollow. Hope was a lying bitch. There was no way.

Without asking, and ignoring the shriek of protest, Keith leaned down over Pidge's seat and put a hand over one of hers, tugging the flightwheel back. Green turned sharply, their view spinning, until the rest of the ship came into view and Keith let go.

The rest of the ship was slowly drowning. Pieces broke off at random, ice spilling out and splitting away as it grew and grew. Sheets and spikes punctured the hull of the cruiser; it wasn't one large chunk anymore. It had already been torn into six. Even as Keith watched, those parts shuddered and sundered under the onslaught of ice. It just didn't stop.

For four minutes, Pidge and Keith just stayed as they were, transfixed, watching the cruiser shatter before their eyes. Galra bodies spewed out from every break - some bodies that were bigger or smaller and Keith didn't think were Galra at all.

The silence in the Green Lion's cockpit was so acute that Keith thought it might smother him. He had to repress the urge to close his helmet, just to make sure he could still breathe.

Eventually, Pidge spoke. Her voice was weak, a tiny whisper that scraped Keith's ears and made him want to scream until it went away. "... What the fuck, Keith?" And it rose in his throat, the snarl, the raging, clawing confusion and fear that made Keith want to snap, to let go, let instinct take over. But Pidge wasn't even looking at him, couldn't look away - she was scared.

Keith was scared too.

"... I don't know." Just as small, jagged and rough and oh god he sounded just as afraid as she did, he couldn't even hide it. He couldn't even put together enough feeling to try.

But the battlecruiser was gone, and half a billion souls were gone with it, and all that was left was wreckage and scrap and ruptured bodies, and the ice glinted in the vacuum, floating and drifting and quietly shining, as if it were still beautiful, as if it weren't a nightmare. Keith felt cold. Red. Red, please. Red. But there was nothing, he was too far away, and the cold was in his mind as well, consuming, slivers of ice invading even his thoughts, breaking him apart like he was a Galra cruiser, and there was nothing he could do and it was so cold and--

Pidge touched him. He leapt, clanged his head against the ceiling, and froze as the sound fractured the weird blanket of silence that had filled the air like cotton, suffocating. Keith met Pidge's eyes, and then suddenly she was hugging him, her helmet pressed awkwardly against the ridge of Keith's armour, her head turned sideways and out. For a moment, Keith felt the reflexive revulsion in his gut, the spinning need to not be touched, to stop it - and instead he put his arms around her shoulders, pulled her closer. The twisty feeling faded into something… warmer. Weird, fluttery, but Pidge was his friend, she was a Paladin, she… understood him in a way that almost nobody did.

It wasn't enough to ease the shaking in his body.

"Guys? I- Shiro, are you out there?" Hunk's voice flickered across the comms and they jumped, startled - but Pidge didn't let go. She turned her head, and Green spun slowly sideways until she faced Blue again. Keith was pretty sure Pidge wasn't even aware she'd done it.

For a second, there was nothing, and Keith stopped breathing. "Y-yeah…. Yeah, I'm here." Voice jagged, sounding dazed, strained, maybe hurt… but he was alive. He was okay. "Sorry about that, Hunk. I got blown into space when the ship broke. Must of passed out for a second there." With how fast Shiro would have been hurled into the vacuum, that made sense. Keith had passed out every time during explosive decompression training, back at the Garrison. He was pretty sure everyone had. Even without the decompression part, the force that must have been exerted on Shiro's body would have been enough.

Keith breathed again, and under his arms he felt Pidge's body relax. "Are you okay?" Keith said quietly, his voice still jagged, weak, uncontrolled. When Shiro responded, he still sounded dazed, but there was a warmth there that made Keith feel like melting. He was okay.

"Yeah, Keith. I'm alright. I'm gonna see if I can get to the Blue Lion, alright?" And the distant crackle of a jetpack firing over the radio. They watched, waiting, Keith forgetting that Pidge was hugging him; that he was hugging her back. For what felt like an eternity, they waited - until Shiro came into view. A little fleck of white and black against the void, bright flares of blue lighting up whenever he ignited his jetpack. It was in short bursts, just to change direction or boost momentum. Their jets were useful, and strong enough to lift three of them apiece - even more in space, where they were weightless - but they were still limited. Allura had spent three days dangling them from as high as she could with only enough jetfuel to burn one short ignition to make sure they got the point. Only burn what you had to.

"Okay. Okay, he's okay. We need to go - to get back to the Castle." Pidge was babbling, talking so fast Keith barely understood, but she let go and pulled away and slipped back into her seat, and Keith tried not to recognise that he suddenly felt alone.

He came closer anyway, hands gripping the back of her seat, and she didn't say a thing.

"Yeah. Can you come give us a tow? I- Lance is out, h-he can't fly this thing." Hunk this time, even as Keith watched Blue scoop Shiro up into her mouth. Lance. But Keith still felt better, knowing Shiro was safe; Shiro could help Lance, Shiro would know what to do. He'd always known how to fix it.

"I'm on it." Pidge wasn't as careful as she normally was with Green, her movements sudden and jerky, but they got above Blue and Green's claws closed around her pridemate's shoulders. It was easy to drag them through space, where there was no atmosphere, no gravity. Mass meant practically nothing. "How's Lance doing?"

"Not great," Shiro said, voice clipped. He sounded better than he had before, despite that. "The ice is melting pretty fast, which is good, but he's still too cold. I don't know what happened, but we should get him to the healing bay as quickly as possible."

So quietly Keith almost couldn't hear over the accompanying radio crackle, Hunk: "Please hurry, Pidge."

...

…

...

In the end, it was Coran who explained. They'd all gathered around Lance, while he floated in a healing pod. His face twitched occasionally, hands half-clenching, but Keith had been reassured that was a good sign. He remembered Lance in the pods after Sendak's attack, how utterly still he'd been, how dead-looking. The twitching looked pained, but Keith had been reassured it was good. He believed it.

They'd gathered, silently, watching Lance start to heal. He'd been freezing when they'd finally made it back, dropping Blue in the main hangar and landing as fast as possible. Keith had jumped out of Green before the Lion had stopped moving, ignoring the disbelieving shrieks that had followed him out.

Lance hadn't been covered in ice anymore, but he'd been soaking wet and utterly freezing and so, so pale. Blue lips. It had looked like he was crying, but his eyes were open slightly, unseeing. His pupils hadn't reacted to light when Keith had pulled the lids up - ignoring Hunk's panicky 'Oh god, oh god, Keith stop it whatareyoudoingstopit' and Shiro's snapped orders. His armour had been hell to touch, but Keith had gotten onto Lance's other side and helped Shiro carry him back to the infirmary anyway.

His side and arm still burned numbly where the cold had leached through Keith's own armour. It had been so cold. Colder than space, whispered the little voice of logic in the back of his head. The cruiser froze on the outside.

Magic, magic. It had been magic. It must have been magic. Blue could make ice out of quintessence, and there was no moisture on the cruiser to freeze. It had to be magic. Blue didn't need moisture, she just needed quintessence.

Blue could make ice out of magic. But Lance couldn't.

"... It's called coalescence."

Keith jumped, feeling Pidge jump too; she had kept close beside him, not quite touching. Shiro was on his other side, maintaining a steady presence, just… being there if Keith needed him. It was something he'd always done. In Keith's experience, that alone was enough - and Pidge stayed close, within arm's reach of Keith at all times. He wondered if he was providing the same for her.

As one, they all turned to face Coran. He was standing by the display panel, watching Lance's vital signs, making sure everything worked as it was meant to. Now, the deep amethyst of his eyes was fixed on Lance as well. He glanced around at them, ran his fingers through his mustache, and sighed quietly.

"What Lance did. What Blue did. It's called coalescence." Quietly, Coran came around and approached them, walking up close to the pod, keeping his eyes fixed on Lance. Did he not want to look at the rest of them? Was he just… that worried about Lance?

Maybe he couldn't bear to look them in the eyes.

"It's extremely dangerous, and it's not something I'd ever recommend any of you doing. Not ever, but especially not now." Coran shifted his weight. "I'm sure by now that you've noticed your bond with your Lion is… soul-deep. A bond like it does not exist anywhere else in the known universe. When you see through your Lion's eyes, become one with their senses… you are mixing your quintessence with theirs. Think of it like… putting your soul into your Lion. Almost literally, in fact."

Pidge took Keith's hand. She didn't acknowledge it, didn't look up at him; Keith wasn't even sure she realised she'd done it. "But you got us to do that… like, right away. We can all do that. Somebetterthanothers." Muttered, the last part, with a baleful glance at Keith and Shiro.

Coran nodded, sighing again, tugging on the end of his mustache. "Yes. That's not dangerous. You are Paladins - you're supposed to be one with your Lion. When you form Voltron, you all become one, all ten of you. I'm sure you've felt that." The four Paladins looked at each other. Keith tried to ignore that - yes, he'd felt it. It was… weird to think about, afterwards, everything a bit fuzzy and surreal, but in the moment… yes, he could feel them. All of them. The touch of the other Lions was intense, but it also felt natural. The other Paladins… were stranger. He could feel them like a buzzing under his skin, when they became Voltron. He couldn't read their thoughts, it wasn't like that, but… he could feel them.

As one, in silence, the four Paladins nodded.

"That's natural. As you progress, get stronger as a team and bond closer to your Lion, that will increase. The Paladins of old… they could sense each other's presence, if they were in danger, when they were distressed. It made…" And here Coran trailed off, something tight in his voice - something Keith didn't… recognise. It reminded him of the echo that sometimes came into Shiro's voice, when the nightmares got bad, when he was haunted beyond sleep. When he could barely function. Something so deep and painful that Keith couldn't understand, couldn't comprehend.

Coran shook himself, clasping his hands in front of him, and focused back up at Lance. "I'm sure that, by now, you've also noticed that your Lions can… share their quintessence with you as well." For a moment, Keith didn't understand. Red could do that?

She purred, in his mind, rubbing against his thoughts with the heat of a slumbering sun. Despite himself, Keith felt his muscles relaxing again.

"Is that… like, when we're training, and I'm pretty sure I need a stack of pancakes, in my mouth, right now, or I'll drop dead, and then Yellow sort of… touches my mind and suddenly I feel better?" Hunk said, frowning slightly, head tilted. Oh. Yes, Keith understood. When he trained for hours after the rest of them had stopped, and all he wanted was to curl up in bed and try to sleep, and then there was Red and he was hot and alive and needed to train some more, or see what Shiro was up to, or just wander the ship until he finished his mental map.

That's Red's quintessence?

Grimly, Coran managed a smile. "Yes, that's it exactly. They don't give you very much - just a sliver, a drop. Your bodies are mortal, and by all accounts humans are weaker than most any sentient lifeform." All of them bristled, Shiro clenching both hands at Keith's side. Pidge's grip became painful, her fingers digging in - but Keith didn't try to dislodge her. He didn't really trust the little gremlin not to attack if he tried. Either him or Coran. Neither would work out great, right now. "Now- Relax, sorry, didn't mean it like that. But the Lions are… something else entirely, They aren't of this… universe. They're ancient, more powerful than anything you or I could otherwise imagine. They give you a little, just to help you out, but if they gave you too much then they could burn you out from the inside. Leave you dead, or helpless shells."

They all looked at Lance, hovering, cold - but alive.

"I don't know if it's happened yet - I'm sure you'd have asked if it had - but sometimes their quintessence triggers a… sort of elemental reaction. You know that each Lion is associated with an element?"

"Yep!"

"Yeah."

Uhh…. what? Keith looked at Pidge and Hunk in confusion, and then up at Shiro. Shiro met his gaze guiltily, licked his lips, and then tentatively: "Imagine that we don't."

Pidge groaned, and knocked her forehead against Keith's arm. "Am I the only one who does our damn homework?"

"Hey!" Keith broke in, defending Shiro before the man had to own up to not doing the readings. At least everyone knew Keith and Lance never did them. "That's a crapload of reading, okay! And it's all in Altean!"

"Yeah, but dude. We gotta know it all - we're supposed to be saving the universe, man. How're we gonna do that if we don't know what we're saving?" Hunk asked, like it was the most reasonable question in the world. Keith shot him a look, trying to convey very clearly that if Pidge wasn't still suctioned onto his arm and he didn't want to make a traumatic experience any worse for her, he would absolutely give Hunk a new trauma to work through. Judging by the raised eyebrows, it didn't work.

Fuck. How the hell does Shiro do it?

Luckily, Allura broke in before anything else could be exchanged - but she was finally smiling, for the first time since they'd left for this mission. "Paladins, calm yourselves. I believe Coran was… in the middle of something."

Ah. Yeah. Keith was totally focused.

Smiling gratefully at her - but the expression didn't reach his eyes - Coran continued. "The Black Lion is the guardian of the skies; the Red Lion the guardian of flame; the Green Lion the guardian of the mighty forest-!"

"Oh my god! Is that why I smell like pine trees every time me and Green do anything?!" Pidge exclaimed, eyes wide.

Snickering, Keith nudged her. "Pidge. Paladin lecture," he muttered, trying to focus. It was bad. Lance was hurt. Just because he was healing didn't mean they could make light of a Paladin lect-

Oh god, they were going to have to relay all of this to him. Keith silently decided to leave that job to Pidge and Hunk.

"Yes, as I was saying: the Green Lion is the guardian of the forest; the Blue Lion the guardian of water; and the Yellow Lion is the guardian of land!" For a brief moment, Coran's gaze drifted, and he twirled his mustache, and then his expression seemed to somber again. Where did he go, Keith wondered, when his eyes drifted like that? "Anyway… Sometimes, when your Lion gives you some quintessence, it will be imbued with some of their elemental power. If it hasn't happened to you yet, you'll notice soon enough.

"But coalescence is different. It can be risky for your Lion to give you quintessence, but they know how much is safe for you. They just know. And that will slowly increase over time, and you'll learn to harness their power and use it with your own, and eventually you'll even learn to harness their elemental quintessence in tandem with your own power - usually, your bayard."

What.

"What?"

"WHAT?"

"What the fuck that's so-"

"Pidge. Language." And Pidge huffed, looking away from Shiro with a scowl. But she didn't move.

Coran cleared his throat, although he was obviously pleased by their reactions; a tiny twinkle was back in his eyes, despite his serious expression. "In due course, you Paladins will master all this. But what Lance did today… It's on a whole other level of power.

"A Lion is capable of forcing their quintessence on you. If you argue with it in a combat situation, or it deems the danger too great… We call it coalescence. To put it simply… The Lion's quintessence overwhelms and consumes your own, and then it just keeps going until your body cannot contain it anymore. Based on what you've told me, and the recordings Pidge took… I believe that's what happened."

For a moment, Keith and Pidge just looked at each other.

"Ice," Pidge breathed, and Keith nodded.

"Ice."

Blue was the guardian of water, and the whole Galra cruiser had been consumed by ice.

"But Lance will be okay. He's healing right now." Shiro almost managed to keep his voice sounding neutral, but Keith wasn't fooled. He heard the tremor, the tiny faint fear that Lance wouldn't be okay. He would blame himself; Shiro was their leader. It wasn't his fault, but he still felt responsible.

And Coran just shrugged helplessly. "Coalescence can destroy the body, of course. Your frail mortal forms aren't designed to handle that much power - even Altean bodies would disintegrate if coalescence was maintained too long. And you lot haven't even started with elemental harnessing yet. Lance seems to have escaped that fate - but it was his quintessence that Blue damaged most. It's possible he might recover and be totally fine."

"But?" Allura voiced it. The doubt none of the Paladins could manage - the word they were all choking on.

And Coran sighed again, and studied Lance sadly. The twinkle was gone again. "If Blue held coalescence too long, if she did this too soon, if her bond to Lance wasn't deep enough… it's entirely possible Lance's quintessence has been damaged. His soul. If it has, there's nothing we can do about it. It may heal itself, in time… or with Blue's help. But it may be irreparable. He might suffer side effects that we won't notice for phoebs - even decaphoebs. There's just no way to know."

"... B-Blue wouldn't have done it if she didn't have to. Right? She'd never risk hurting Lance unless she had to." Hunk's voice was quiet, shaky. Still choking on that but.

Coran looked over, and then he stepped in close and pulled Hunk into a hug. He rubbed his back. "I have no doubt of that, my boy. Your Lions may not think like we do, but you are their Paladins. They love you."

Keith was losing feeling in his hand. Instead of complain, he pulled Pidge in closer, tucked his arm around her shoulders. His fingers felt cold as bloodflow restarted. On his other side, Shiro put a hand on his shoulder, and Keith gave in, fell into the old familiar touch and comfort of the only man he thought he could ever trust. Shiro's waist was trimmer than before Kerberos, harder - his back was held stiffer. All the little changes that Keith couldn't help but document. But Shiro still stepped in, put an arm around Keith's shoulders, and gently rubbed one thumb behind his ear, right on his hairline.

It helped.