#and then I realized my sluggish thoughts and inability to recall words and struggles to process external information might be brain fog

[amtrak12]

HAHAHAHA my executive dysfunction, anxiety, and brain fog of the last two years isn’t isolation related after all -- my thyroid levels are just too low :P

I swiped some of spouse’s old hormone pills (100 units) to double up my dose this week (I’m on 175 currently). It’s only been three days but HOLY SHIT the night and day difference it has already made. My head is so clear right now! I have the drive to do things again!! IT’S AMAZING!

I will be contacting my doctor next week to be like “hey can I get a higher dose now instead of waiting for our October appointment???”.

So um PSA for those who have thyroid issues (or don’t have one at all like me), when your doctor asks how your fatigue levels are, don’t just consider physical fatigue. Brain fog, sluggish thoughts, and an inability to start tasks all fall into the energy/fatigue category.

[volturialice]

me: i’m not gonna write any more of the drugged!human alice au

also me:

it has a title now too I guess. posting in a huge rush because I was supposed to be out the door ten minutes ago, so it’s even more unbeta’ed than usual. oh well

2,180 words

warnings: drugs, discussion of date rape, vomiting

rating: T

pairings: jalice

part 1 here

perihelion 2/?

It’s hard to tell visions from dreams. Sometimes, Alice doesn’t know which is which until a vision is coming true right in front of her, and then it’s like, okay, too late to do anything about this now. It means all of her dreams are high stakes—any nightmare could become a life-ruining disaster, any good dream could be made or unmade real by some hidden catalyst she doesn’t know about. She’s pretty sure she almost bombed the PSAT because she didn’t wear the blue top she had on in the dream where she scored a 189.

But her inability to tell the difference was never that big of a deal until Forks—until she started dreaming about the Cullens, and Jasper specifically. She wishes she could tell which of the Jasper dreams are real. They’re just so…well, horny. If Alice knew they were visions, and not her subconscious making a complete, desperate idiot of itself, she could be less embarrassed about the whole thing.

Tonight she dreams of Jasper and Rosalie in a room with green walls and shiny wood floors. They’re different in the dream, somehow—more still. Rosalie doesn’t sit. Jasper doesn’t blink.

Between them, an open doorway gapes into darkness. Just visible in the room beyond is the silhouette of a prone figure on a bed, unmoving. They watch it for an uncomfortable amount of time before Rosalie speaks.

“If she were any other human, I would have hunted you for sport, you know.”

“I know,” says Jasper, sounding impossibly old and tired.

“I would be off absolutely wrecking your shit right now, and then I would take care of the liability, because that’s how it works in this family. But she’s…this.” Rosalie grimaces, gesturing to the figure on the bed. “And why was it you told us you were following her, again? To ‘ensure her silence?’ Right,” she scoffs, evidently too disgusted with Jasper to keep looking at him.

“She hasn’t said anything. She won’t.”

“No, she won’t, because you’ll stop her at all costs, will you?”

Jasper’s face doesn’t betray the slightest twitch, but his eyes harden almost imperceptibly. “Not that way.”

Rosalie whirls back around. “You were supposed to be the one person I could count on to do what’s necessary! And now you’re telling me you won’t? Listen to yourself!”

Jasper throws up his hands. “Why are you here, then, Rose? Why are you helping her?”

“I’m helping you, you jackass! I know you all think I’m this narcissistic bitch, but I’m not…not inhumane, okay?” Rosalie levels a contemptuous glance at him, then looks away. “I don’t want some girl to be date-raped, however dangerous she is. And I’m not about to sit by and watch you make a complete mess of things.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I think that ship may have sailed,” grumbles Jasper.

“I’ll say. I drive up and she’s going on about how you’re stalking her and claiming you’re dating? She should have been killed the moment she figured out what we were, but instead you’re following her around protecting her because of some bizarre psychic connection she claims you have? Make it make sense, Jasper.”

“Edward confirmed her ability is real.”

“Great, so she’s a bigger freak than us. That makes it all ok,” snaps Rosalie, dripping with sarcasm. “Wonderful to know your abysmal taste in women hasn’t altered after all these years.”

Jasper ignores both the jab and the implication. “Earlier you made it sound like you were on her side.”

“I just think you ought to admit what’s really going on here. You won’t let us kill her—fine. It’s utterly irresponsible and stupid, but I can accept that. But it’s not like we can allow her to keep existing out there as a human, knowing what she knows.”

Jasper barks out a humorless, incredulous laugh. “Are you advocating that we should have Carlisle change her? You, Rosalie Hale, want to ‘take away her humanity?’”

Rosalie shrugs. “I’m not saying she wouldn’t be better off dead. But she’s not a very good human, is she? I gather she’s not exactly thriving. They have to pump her full of drugs just to keep her functional, and her human peers still think she’s insane. Be realistic. Her life was over the moment she learned the truth about us.”

Jasper’s only response is a slow shake of his head, like he still can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Rosalie’s eyes narrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about changing her. Don’t tell me it wasn’t your first thought, when you realized you didn’t want her dead. I may not be the mind reader in the family, but I know that’s a lie.”

It takes Jasper a beat too long to answer. “Of course I’ve thought about it.”

“Not enough, apparently. Right now, we’re in as much danger as she is. If she were one of us…well, her life is already ruined anyway. At least then we’d have her oh-so-special ability on our side.  Surely you can see the strategic advantage,” Rosalie rebukes. “Better Carlisle changes her than the Volturi. Has it occurred to you that if they ever find out she exists, the decision will be taken right out of your hands?”

“It’s not in my hands.”

Rosalie rolls her eyes again. “Hers, then.”

He sighs. “The possibility did occur to me.”

“You think she wants to learn Italian and live in a sewer? Eat tourists?”

“I have no idea what she wants.”

Rosalie laughs. “Right, because she’s playing it so close to the vest. She called you a simp. Do you know what that means?”

“We’re not talking about this.”

“Funny how you never want to confide in anyone, yet here we are.”

Jasper’s look says that isn’t what’s going on here, but he doesn’t respond. They settle back into tense silence.

“What are you going to do about the man? The one who drugged her?” asks Rosalie after a while.

“Eliminate him. Quietly.”

Rosalie nods. “Carlisle won’t like it.”

“He doesn’t have to.”

“Can you actually do it, though? Without slipping?”

Jasper doesn’t answer, which is an answer in itself.

“I could do it.” Rosalie’s voice is quiet.

“It’s not your problem.”

“Exactly,” Rosalie insists. “It wouldn’t be a problem for me. If you slip…well, we may not have to move, but you won’t be able to come back to school for months. Going to trust the rest of us to babysit your human?”

“I won’t slip,” says Jasper, but for the first time, he sounds uncertain.

Alice’s dream chooses this moment to blur and shift. Jasper and Rosalie melt away, voices distorting until they’re drowned out by other voices, other sounds and images that crowd in and pull at her, like being tossed around in a rough ocean. They come one after another, too fast to make sense of them—muddy tires, a burst of cut-off music, a slow, dark ooze crawling over pavement, an echoing splash. Familiar red eyes, looking down at her.

Then Alice is awake, and the eyes looking down at her are black. Wait, no. There are no eyes looking down at her. It must have been part of the dream.

She’s lying on something soft—a bed. Above her is a white ceiling. Her head throbs with a confused, cotton-y ache, and her mouth tastes disgusting.

What the hell happened? Alice isn’t great at piecing together chronological sequences at the best of times. She remembers being in Port Angeles…splitting up with Bella in order to meet her friends from the art show at a bar, and then…people talking, her legs sticking to the green leather barstool.  The lights getting blurry around the edges, the cool, slippery feel of condensation from the glass in her hand, and…oh. Oh, shit. Jasper.

Jasper had been there. The last thing she can recall is Jasper approaching, his face twisted in rage so murderous that she’d thought, huh, I guess he really is a vampire.

She rolls over and—speak of the devil—there he is, standing kind of a weird distance away, halfway between the bed and the door. He looks far less murderous than she remembers.

“Good morning,” she croaks, struggling into a sitting position. “Um. Where the hell am I?”

“Port Townsend,” says Jasper, which means absolutely nothing to her. She’s only been in Forks a few months—is she seriously supposed to know Washington geography?

To Alice’s immense relief, she’s still fully clothed. She does a surreptitious check to make sure her boobs aren’t falling out of her shirt, and when she looks back up there’s a glass of water in front of her face. She takes it and chugs the whole thing down in a few gulps. Why does she feel so hungover? She had only had, like, two drinks last night. Certainly not enough to make her black out and forget the whole evening. No, this big, empty gap in her memory feels more like when they used to drug her at the hospital. In fact, it feels exactly like that.

Jasper takes the empty glass from her and hands her another full one. He’s still watching her in a way that makes her want to squirm and fidget. Why had he been so angry last night?

She chugs the second glass of water while her sluggish brain tries to add it all up. Angry Jasper plus no memory plus waking up in a bed in a strange place, equals…yikes. Maybe she shouldn’t be drinking whatever he hands her.

“Uh,” she taps her fingers against the empty glass, “why do I feel like I’ve been roofied?”

“Because you were. Here,” says Jasper, handing her something else. Her own phone, somehow fully charged. One new voicemail, from…herself.

Future Alice, this is Past Alice. You’re probably pretty freaked out right now, but it’s okay! Jasper didn’t drug you. I repeat, Jasper did not drug you. Be nice to Rosalie; she’s there to help. Now put the phone down, you’re about to hurl. Bye!

Alice has just enough time to think, Rosalie? before a violent wave of nausea hits and she’s throwing up into the waste bin that appears in front of her face. “Ugh,” says the person holding it, and sure enough, there’s Rosalie.

There’s something extra humiliating about throwing up in front of two vampires, one of whom she kind of has a thing with and the other of whom is his super-hot sister who hates her. Thankfully, her stomach was empty except for the two glasses of water.

Rosalie blurs out of the room—damn, she’s fast—and reappears without the waste bin. It’s weird being on the bed while Rosalie and Jasper are standing, so Alice gets to her feet, already feeling way better. “Whose house is this?” she asks.

“Mine,” says Rosalie, practically shooting laser beams of resentment from her eyes.

“You wouldn’t let us take you home or to the hospital,” explains Jasper. “This is Rosalie and Emmett’s beach cottage.”

“Cottage” seems like the wrong word for this place, now that Alice gets a look at it. It has eight- or nine-foot ceilings and the view out the window—a vast, gray body of water that might be the ocean or some kind of bay—looks like a default computer desktop.

“Oh. So, then…someone else drugged me last night?” She tries to remember who she was talking to before Jasper came over, but she’d talked to so many people at the bar that they all kind of blur together in her head.

Jasper nods.

“Like we’d ever need to drug you,” says Rosalie. Oh, right. Vampires.

“So you just…watched me sleep?”

“Yeah, it was riveting. I had no idea snoring like a lawnmower was a side effect of rohypnol.”

So Alice was supposed to be nice to Rosalie, huh? Easier said than fucking done.

Something pushes at the back of her mind—Rosalie and Jasper watching her sleep. She, Alice, had watched them watching her sleep—from outside her own body. A vision, then, and not a dream.

She tries to remember the rest of it on the drive back to Forks, staring out the back window of Rosalie’s BMW like a kid with the two vampires up front. There had been something else in the vision, something besides the disjointed set of images. Jasper and Rosalie had talked about her, about whether or not she should be a vampire. She sneaks a glance at Jasper in the car mirror, at his downcast, shadowed eyes. Had he ever actually said whether he wanted Alice to be a vampire or not?

His eyes snap up to meet hers in the mirror, so suddenly she almost jumps. Alice looks away, guilty for no real reason. The vision, think about the vision.

There had been something else in it: a plan. They were going to…something. Something about slipping, something Rosalie thought she could do better than Jasper…

Right. They were going to kill someone.

.

.

rosalie @ human bella: noooo don’t become a vampire you’re so fertile aha

rosalie @ human alice: yeah nobody’s impregnating this little gremlin. bite away

[vegafiction]

Overdose for lance, voltron?

Count: ~2.8kPairing(s): KlanceChara(s): Lance-centric, ft. PaladinsFandom: VoltronPrompt: OverdoseWarning(s): Drug abuse, overdosing, langst

I don’t know why this turned out to be so long but, I hope it’s enjoyable?? I didn’t edit it too much because I spent nearly 4 hours on it. My brain was tired of staring at it lmao. I think this ficlet comes across more like addiction than overdose BUT WE’LL JUST ROLL WITH IT!

I would like to formally apologize to Coran for not only being unable to write him but for putting him through this.

Part One: Chronic Pain

Get your bingo card @badthingshappenbingo

Lance slid the empty pill bottle across the table and into Coran’s line of sight. He flashed the older Altean engineer his most charming smile.“I need a refill.”Coran inspected the empty case. He ruffled his mustache for a moment, stroking it with careful movement until the silence stretched far longer than Lance felt comfortable with. Coran was usually a man who wore his heart in his sleeves, Lance didn’t have difficulty trying to figure out what went through his head, but lately, it’s been hard. Then again, Lance found a lot of things difficult through the haze pain medication that coursed through his veins.“Does your arm still hurt?” The Altean asked instead. “I watched the team training today. Your movements were exceptional if a little… sluggish.”“Oh, yeah! My arm wakes me up in the middle of sleeping sometimes, so I was just, you know, drained.” He grinned widely. “But I stayed focused! I’ve been doing the exercises you taught me. The medicine makes it possible.”Coran gazed into his eyes steadily. “Hm, yes,” He drawled. “Okay Lance, I’ll fill it up, but its one pill a day. Even if the pain returns and you feel like it’s gonna fall off, it’s just one!”He refilled the bottle as he spoke, unaware of the way Lance’s blue eyes hyper-focused on the carton of medicine. He sealed the carton, placed it back onto the high shelf and reset the protection lock for safe keeping. Lance refocused on Coran, his smile strained as the royal advisor held out the replenished container to him.

“Thanks, Coran, I—“ The weight of the medicine was light in his grasp. He turned the container over in his palm and counted the number of pastel pink pills.Frustration clawed in his chest.“You’re only giving me ten?” (He tried to keep the anger down in his voice, but wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job of keeping it off his face. “You gave me twenty last time.”“Twenty pills for twenty quintants.” He explained, his kind eyes oddly sharp. “It’s only been two movements since you woke up from your coma, Lance. What happened to the rest?”“I already told you, the pain comes back when I’m asleep!” He snapped.Coran’s red brows furrowed worriedly.“Lance,” he began gently. Lance poured the pills back into the container and hastily screw on the top. “I understand you may be struggling to come to terms with what happened but—““I don’t need a lecture right now! I get that enough from everyone in this castle, I don’t need to hear it from you.” He pocketed the medication. “Thank you for your help, Coran, but I can manage myself from here.” He headed toward the door.“I won’t give you another refill!” Coran called after him.Lance froze in front of the door, a sense of frustration, rage, and fear bubbled in his chest like a brewing storm. He grumbled under his breath and marched out of the infirmary without a look back.Coran shook his head, heavily troubled.

Lance’s thoughts raced as he dodged an attack from one of the training drones. Ten pills weren’t going to cut it. Even now, despite having downed two pills after his unpleasant encounter in the infirmary, Lance could still feel the trace of pain deep in his skin.Today, he’d meant to practice shooting. He still found it uncomfortable to pull the trigger of his rifle without the twinge of pain, but Coran’s refusal played like a broken record in his mind. The red bayard shifted into the altean broadsword and he charged toward the drone, slashing away at its robotic parts.His shoulder erupted into pain. He hissed, suddenly infuriated. How was it possible he could still feel pain? He could barely feel the hilt of the sword in his hand!I’m not taking enough. He reasoned. He charged into another drone, swinging his sword. I need more!Distracted by his angry, anxious thoughts, Lance failed to see the other training drone until it slammed its weapon down across his back. Pain ignited his nerves, blinding his thoughts. Another drone kicked the sword right out of Lance’s hand, sending it flying across the training room and shoved the hilt of its own weapon into Lance’s solar plexus.The blue paladin crumbled to the ground, wheezing.The drones immediately deactivated, freezing in place around him like a statistic mob about to crucify him. Through the tears in his eyes, Lance gazed into the worried face of Shiro.“That was some beating,” He held out his hand to Lance. “You’ve really improved with your swordsmanship. Have you been training with Keith?”Lance climbed to his feet with Shiro’s help. He wiped the dust from his clothes, feeling both embarrassed and ashamed for having lost himself in his rage.“Yeah, when he can.” He rubbed his right arm, resisting the urge to grimace in front of his hero. He plastered on a bright smile for Shiro’s sake. “What’s up, Shiro? Did you need me for anything?”“I was hoping for some of your “world famous” milkshakes.”Lance blinked, surprised. “Aren’t you lactose intolerant?”“Yes.”“…won’t you…get sick?”Shiro’s smile was amicable. “I’m willing to suffer for a little taste of Earth.”Lance raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Fair enough. Let me just change and we’ll go visit Kaltencker.”

Lance couldn’t feel his face, though he was absolutely sure he had one. He sucked on freshly made milkshake through a large straw Hunk had been lucky enough to find on their last trip to the space mall. He watched Shiro swirl the straw around in his cup before taking another swing of what will ultimately destroy his intestines in ten doboshes.He seemed quite pleased with Lance’s work. He drained the white substance of liquid death until Shiro was left with nothing but whipped cream and whatever remained of the space fruits Lance had used to make their shakes.“Any last words?” The Cuban teased.“Actually, yes. I wanted to talk to you about your training with the others today.”Lance tore his eyes away from his drink. He found Shiro’s unwavering dark eyes peering into his own. It was unsettling.“Yeah? Coran said he was impressed I was recovering so fast. I mean, of course, I would. It’s me after all.” Lance rattled nervously. He occupied himself by twirling his smoothie straw in circles. “I basically almost have full function in my hand again. I should be good enough to go back on missions with you guys.” He stared back at Shiro with a hopeful gaze. “You guys probably don’t even really need me, but… let me at least make up for it!”“Lance, what happened to you wasn’t your fault. You saved those people’s lives at the risk of your own. We’re all proud of you and we’re happy you’re still with us. But, I’m not the one who can make the call.” He sighed. “Coran is worried about you. We’re all worried.”“Worried about what? I’m fine.”Shiro’s eyes bore into his own. “Are you? You were unfocused during the training session today. And earlier, you seemed angry.”Lance gripped his cup tightly, uncomfortable with Shiro’s questions and frustrated with himself for his inability to do anything right. He felt the sharp ache of his arm flare up. He couldn’t hide his grimace.“Lance?”“I’m doing my best to get better.” He said, his voice hard. “I’m getting there! Just… give me a chance.”Shiro’s expressionmorphed into something akin to pain. It took Lance a second to realize why his hero looked so uncomfortable. Shiro excused himself from the kitchen and tried to hurry out of the room with his dignity intact. (He ended up booting around the corner before Lance could say a word).

He downed three pills with a gulp of water in the hopes of silencing the aches and pains of his body. He felt the weightlessness of the medication kick in minutes after consumption and plopped himself into bed.The thoughts that whirled in his mind slowed to a standstill. He gazed into the ceiling, not quite comprehending what he was seeing, but feeling more at peace with himself than ever before.Slowly, his body grew numb as he struggled to fight against the heavyweights that were his eyelids.

Lance snapped back to reality with a loud gasp. He bolted upright in bed and desperately scrambled to pull away the sheets wrapped around his body until all his limbs were free.Standing a foot away from his bed was Keith. He was dressed in paladin gear, helmet in hand, while his eyes fixated on Lance with an expression that stung worse than Coran giving him a lecture.“Wh-what happened?!” Lance gasped. “Why are you in paladin gear?”“The Castle of Lions was attacked while you slept,” Keith answered, his voice carefully controlled. “We tried waking you up, but you weren’t responding.”The Blue Paladin gulped, throat dry. He found it difficult to keep Keith’s gaze, guilt reared its ugly head in his chest.“Is everyone okay?”“Yeah. Luckily we didn’t need to form Voltron, but Red wasn’t cooperating with any of my commands.”“Well, I mean, you did leave it for the Black Lion.” Lance tried to joke. Keith didn’t look amused.“Lance, Red kept trying to return to the Castle as we fought. Do you know why?”He didn’t. His brain wasn’t processing correctly. He side eyed the pill bottle on the shelf and tried to recall how many he had taken so far and how long ago was his last dose.Keith moved into his line of sight. His expression was no longer hard but filled with worry.“It’s because he sensed you were in trouble. Coran told us about your outburst. You slept through the ship’s attack and didn’t respond to anything I said or did.” The Red Paladin heaved a heavy sigh. “Lance, I’m cutting you off.”Lance felt his whole body grow cold. He stared into Keith’s pained eyes with an expression of pure disbelief.Rage exploded in his veins.He shot to his feet just as Keith moved toward his shelf.“You can’t do that!” He practically screamed. “My arm still hurts! You can’t take away the only thing that works!”“I’m doing what needs to be done,” Keith answered harshly. He snatched the nearly empty bottle from the shelf, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Coran said he gave you ten pills for ten days.” He shook the bottle. “You only have three left.”“So what?! He gave it to me ages ago!”“It’s barely been twenty-four hours, Lance!” Keith made his way to the door. “I’m not going to stand by and watch you kill yourself like this. I love you too much to bear that.”Lance chased after him into the hall. He grabbed onto the bottle with desperation and tried to pull it free from Keith’s grasp.“Lance, stop!”“It’s just medicine! They’re not going to kill me!”“Do you even hear yourself?!” Keith ripped the bottle away from Lance’s hands. The momentum of his pull launched the container from Keith’s grasp. They watched it clatter to the ground, the force of its fall snapped open the lid and the trio of pills scattered across the castle halls.Lance bolted.Keith wrapped his arms around the slender boy’s waist and pinned him down, ignoring the almost inhuman screaming of an addict’s desperation.“Stop it, Lance! Stop it! Stop it!” Keith cried.Lance bucked beneath Keith’s weight, desperate for the last remnants of the only things that kept the pain away. He clawed the ground; could already feel the traces of his previous dose slip from his mind.Suddenly, Lance was hoisted from the ground. He could make out Shiro’s voice amidst his yelling but the former Black Paladin’s words didn’t register.The brown delicate hand of Allura’s came into his field of vision. His instincts slipped into overdrive. He tried to kick away his captors, but the tips of his fingers rested against his forehead and then—He was gone.

Coran slammed his fist against the wall in a rare display of anger. He heaved a heavy sigh then carefully rubbed his hand in an effort to assuage the pain away.Princess Allura cleared her throat, uncomfortable.“So, what do we do?” Keith asked once it was obvious no one had anything to say. “Stick him back into the healing pod and hope for the best?”“The healing pods cannot heal what is mental,” Allura said, her voice soft. “The best we can do is wean him off the medication, abruptly if possible.”“Like going cold turkey?” Hunk chimed in.Allura seemed perplexed by the expression but nodded nevertheless.“I should’ve been more careful,” Coran said, remorseful. “I should have given him the smallest possible dose and monitored his consumption. Xoralax was a highly sought after substance in the black market. I shouldn’t have assumed it wouldn’t be the case here.”“It’s alright, Coran. You couldn’t have known.”“Do you have more of the stuff?” Pidge asked, her brows furrowed. “If we’re going to ween Lance off of the medication, we should make sure he can’t get his hands on more.”“Not to worry, the rest are securely locked up in the infirmary and protected by a passcode!”Keith turned to Coran and asked, “Does Lance know the passcode?”“Absolutely not! All the substances in the infirmary are protected by a glass barrier. If anything happens to it, an alarm will—“Coran’s voice was drowned out by the ear-piercing wail of an alarm system. The rest of the paladins clasped their hands against their ears but Coran stood frozen in place. He bolted out of the room before the others could question him. Keith followed in his tracks.

“Lance!”Coran burst into the medical bay, steeling himself for the worst. Lance was on his hands and knees, desperately trying to gather the scattered Xoralaxpills. he must have dropped the box in his attempt to steal them.Coran rushed to the boy, eyeballing his pale skin tone and the beads of sweat that dotted his brow. He noticed the way Lance’s fingers quaked as though he wore cold. He tried to lift the boy from the ground, but Lance resisted.“No, no, no, I need it! I need it! Let me go, Coran!” He screamed.Coran forced Lance to stare into his eyes. His heart sank.His pupils were blown.“You don’t need any more of this, Lance. You need medical attention! Let me—“ He tried to move him again but Lance shoved his elbow into the older man’s gut and scrambled away.Keith rushed into the room before Lance could even think about escaping. He was joined immediately by Shiro and Hunk. Allura hurried to Coran’s side, checking for wounds, but he assured her he was unwounded.Pidge hung back by the door, too stunned to say a word. Too terrified to move.Lance lashed out at his family. He crawled toward the pile of pills and tried to collect as many as he could until Shiro and Hunk grabbed his arms and pinned them against his back. He wailed in despair.“Let me go! Let me go! LET ME GO!”Keith grabbed his sweaty face, violet eyes filled with unshed tears. From frustration or sadness, Lance couldn’t be sure.“Lance, listen to me, you’re going to be okay. We’re going to help you.”He didn’t want help! He wanted medicine. His entire body felt like he was on fire and all the others ever did was hold him back.Lance tried to break free from the death clutches of his friends to no avail. He tried again and again, but the more he resisted, the weaker he felt. Slowly, Lance’s legs couldn’t support his weight any longer and he collapsed into the arms of Shiro and Hunk.“Quickly! Into the pods before his heart stops!” Coran urged.He hastily typed away into the monitoring system as Shiro and Hunk carried the limp boy into the machine.By the time Lance was comfortably placed inside, he had already fallen into nothingness.

Keith and Coran were the first people that came into Lance’s vision as he stepped out of the healing pod two quintants later. He fell into Keith’s awaiting arms, weak and weary, and disoriented from the sense of gravity tugging his body.Keith settled him onto a chair carefully. He took a water bag from Coran’s hand and handed it to Lance. When he didn’t respond, Keith gingerly topped the straw between the boy’s lips. He drank slowly but greedily.Coran knelt beside him. He peered into his eyes.“How do you feel?”Lance shrugged. He leaned to the side, pressing his head against Keith’s waist.“M’sorry,” he slurred. “M’sorry.”“I’m just happy you’re awake,” Keith said. He ran shaky fingers through the boy’s brown locks, grateful for the chance to feel it silkily pass through his fingers again.Coran patted the boy’s knee. Before he could rise, Lance lurched forward. He wrapped his arms around Coran’s neck and held him tightly. Emotions welled up inside him. He returned Lance’s hug just as tight.