anonymous propmpted: What if Lance had been paralyzed after Sendak bombed the castle in ep.6?

Voltron: Legendary Defender and related properties © Dreamworks
story © RenaRoo

The Absolute Best

His life had been saved, and Coran thought that perhaps that was the worst feeling in the world. That he could be saved, and it would be at such a terrible cost.

If there had ever been a doubt about the validity and heroism of their dear paladins, that terrible night had been the end of it. Because Lance's sacrifice, because Lance's true and brilliantly shining character, had expelled all doubts.

But it was at a cost that the Altean found utterly inexcusable.

Coran's life should not have been at the cost of Lance's mobility.

Perhaps if Coran had been paying more attention for himself, perhaps if he had been an Altean medic rather than an advisor and caretaker, perhaps perhaps–

Lance's eyes opened and the other paladins breathed with relief, crowding around him and rustling his hair, squeezing his weakened hands, and excitedly telling him how he had been such a hero that night. But none dared bring up what would eventually be the responsibility of the Princess and Shiro… and Coran himself.

The bad news.

But for the moment, for the time being, Coran stepped forward, dropped to his knees by Lance's side, took one of his hands in both of Coran's, and tearfully said the hardest thing of all.

"Thank you, Lance," Coran said, each word feeling heavier on his tongue than the last. "You saved my life. And it is a debt that I will never repay."

Lance was still tired and weak from the rest of his injuries, head barely able to lift off his pillow. He laughed, though. "I'll teach you how to make cheeseburgers, Coran. Then you can start paying me back that way."

Wiping his face with his sleeve, Coran sniffed and nodded. "It may be a start, Lance. It may just be."

Coran reluctantly got to his feet, his legs feeling like jelly. He left Lance to his friends and began to walk off, burdened with so much emotion he barely knew what to do with it.

Allura – sweet and tender Allura – placed a hand on his shoulder as he walked by. A knowing gesture, pity weaved into her brow. But even she let him go as Coran walked toward the control deck.

He needed to start planning. Needed to find a way to make this better before it began the true descent into being so, so much worse.

It probably made him a coward, but Coran was not there when Princess Allura and Shiro took the responsibility of telling Lance about his more dire situation, and the long road to recovery after that.

He had been there when the computers had scanned Lance and shown the severe break in his spine. Coran had seen how the computer recommended surgery – something that none of them had the available skills to provide.

And Coran had felt that shame and disgust with himself for proving uselessness in the face of such adversity.

He was also there afterward, bringing food to the patient as he was leaned upright in his bed, eyes exhausted and refusing to look up.

The indirectness of Lance's glare painfully hit Coran in ways he could not have expected.

"Good afternoon," Coran forced out, walking to Lance's bedside and glancing around the room. "Everyone must have stepped out. Odd."

There had scarcely been a moment since Lance woke that the majority, if notall, of the paladins had been at his side.

In sudden and empty silence, Coran felt his own chest's tightness grow more yet.

"I sent them out," Lance said, letting out a sigh. "You know. Cramping my style and all that."

Coran was familiar with Lance's attempts at humor by that point, but he wasn't in a position to laugh himself. So he nodded in acknowledgement instead.

"It was good of your friends to respect your privacy when you needed it," Coran acknowledged. "That's a mark of maturity – knowing when to respect other's wishes."

Lance finally looked up to him, a smile on his face that didn't quite meet his eyes. "So it's maturity that had Shiro literally pulling them out by their ears?" he asked hollowly.

Coran felt a crinkle form by his eyes as he forced his smile all the more. "Perhaps not their own maturity, but maturity all the same," he said, setting the tray for Lance and fiddling slightly. "May I pull up a chair?"

It took a beat as Lance considered the question, and it was perhaps one of the longest moments Coran had lived through, but the blue paladin nodded at last.

Against all wisdom, Coran pulled himself up a chair and came to sit by Lance's side. "And just so we're clear, I can leave any time you need me to," he informed Lance. "I am certain you feel you need some privacy after all you've been through."

"Nah, I'm fine," Lance assured him, dropping eye contact again though it at least seemed to be from interest in the food Coran brought. "Still have to teach you what cheeseburgers are."

"And once you do, you shall have mountains of them, that I can promise," Coran said with a small laugh of his own.

Lance gave a more genuine smile, looking up at Coran. "Yeah, I mean… No one can make them as well as my mom can, but you'll be learning from the second best person around," he promised.

A certain, unreadable emotion broke on Lance's face after the mention of his mother and he rested his head back. "I thought… All this time and I've been thinking about how I'd explain space and being a paladin and the Galra to my mom. I always thought I'd be some big hero walking through the door when I did. And…" He tightly screwed his eyes shut, fists clenching on his sheet. "And now…"

Coran searched Lance's face, his heart bleeding for the paladin, before he reached out and grabbed Lance's hand, closing it carefully in his.

"You will still be going through your home door, chin high, a paladin of Voltron, a defender of the universe," Coran informed him. "And, not least of all, the hero who saved my life. Just one on the long list of those in the universe who will forever be in your debts, Lance."

Looking at Coran, Lance sniffed but nodded. And suddenly Coran knew that unreadable look – it was one he became very familiar with over the years. Fear.

"Can I even still be a paladin after this?" he asked in barely a whisper. "I mean, if I can't… If I can't walk, can I even still be a pilot at all? And will the lion–"

Squeezing Lance's hand more, Coran nodded. "Lance, you are every bit the pilot and hero you were before. Even more so. Now, I'm not saying that things won't be different. Maybe even radically so, but you have been the blue paladin long enough now that I know you feel the power of your lion's bond. Now tell me, will your feelings for your lion lessen any at all even in these trying times?"

Lance looked at Coran seriously. "Other than mom's cheeseburgers? Getting back in the lion's all I've thought about since they told me."

"Then we will get you back in that lion, dear paladin," Coran assured him. "It will take time, and work – so much work, Lance. But I will be there every step of the way. I'm here to help you. I owe you that much."

"Physical therapy and cheeseburgers," Lance thought out loud, a ghost of a smile on his face. "You might just be the best, Coran."

Coran smiled, but it was a broken one. This boy – Lance might have been the bravest soul he had ever known. And Coran couldn't contain himself to keep from throwing his arms around Lance's shoulders and hugging him tenderly.

"No, you are, Lance," Coran assured him. "You are."