A/N: I've always headcanoned Lance as Mexican, so I'll just stick with it!

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!"

Her surroundings exploded with sound, loud and reverberating voices immediately jarring her from her slumber. For a second, a split fleeting second, she'd expected to stretch out on her cozy bed with her favorite wool blanket back home. Her eyes snapped open, her mind gleeful at the mere prospect of her brother and father singing to her in melodious voices at her doorway, wearing lopsided cardboard jester hats. She would be the birthday queen. This was her day.

But instead, upon opening her eyes, the bright warm atmosphere of her old room faded into the mechanical and cold lion's den. Her shirt was rumpled, her left arm asleep, and her glasses were clenched tightly in a stress-induced fist. The music faded into silence as she fully awoke, leaning against the silent metal lion she'd fallen asleep on.

The sweet familiar voices had been in her dream. Her brother and father were not there to greet her, and the crushing reality of their absence hit her like a truck. Frustrated, she bit her lip, the sour taste of blood the only thing making her stop and relax her tense muscles.

"Good morning, Green," Pidge called through a rough throat, blinking away the sleep from her eyes. The space view in the upper window remained—it was never truly day in space—and really, Pidge wasn't quite sure if it was morning or not. Regardless, she felt Green's purr in response, the lion ready for her paladin at any ungodly hour.

Quietly, Pidge got to her feet, propping herself against Green's leg as she looked over the tools and wires scattered throughout the den. She'd fully immersed herself in work the week prior, nothing but a useless tactic to keep her busy. As per usual, she'd dropped off it only the day before, never to touch any of the projects again. Now, she felt like it were nothing but a mess to clean.

"I might as well get a head start." Pidge unfolded her lenses, carefully perching them on her nose and blinking the final remnants of bleariness away. Green purred her agreement, and Pidge patted the lion fondly before hopping off her paw and getting to work.

An hour and a half came and went in the noise of nothing but scattering of metal and the occasional ramble from Pidge's direction. The floor became clearer with every few minutes as she shoved projects away, only leaving one or two reliable ideas to be left in the works for later. The trash bins Coran had supplied her were full to the brim, and Pidge had to both shove and meticulously fit each piece in to get it out of the way. It was a soothing project, one that kept her hands and mind busy as she raced to recall where things went. She didn't want to think about what day it was. She ignored the ache in her back and palms, and kept moving.

When the mess was clean, Pidge stood in the middle of an empty space, feeling a pang of loss as her mind cleared. The worry crept up on her, the silence around her reminding her, and she felt herself shiver. Tears pricked her eyes, threatening to break through like the traitorous bastards they were and expose everything.

With a huff of frustration, Pidge turned on her heel and hopped back on Green's paw. With intent, she began scaling Green's leg, shimmying upwards and digging her hands and feet into the nearest possible crevices. She rose higher and higher, an ant-like form on Green's hulking body, but it was exhilarating. Her problems were left below, with the mechanical bits and pieces stuffed into the overloaded trash can, and Pidge gave a small shout of pride as she reached Green's chest. This was something better to focus on, she told herself. There was no point to worry about them. It was fine. It was useless. It didn't matter, it didn't matter, it doesn't matter, it—

"Pidge!"

The scream tore through the room, and Pidge's startled jerk loosened her hold. With a high-pitched scream of terror, she lost grip and began plunging down from Green's chest height, the air rushing past her ears like whizzing bullets. Golden brown locks of hair flew past, covering her face and getting into her mouth, and she was almost ready to scream for her father before she landed directly into the strong arms of Hunk.

Hunk, breathing hard, had swooped in directly under to catch Pidge, successfully stopping her thirty foot fall to the concrete below. Lance was stuck frozen in the doorway, mouth formed in a permanent O of horror and Pidge nearly feared she'd completely scarred him until he burst to life with an exhale of relief.

Lance and Hunk, washed over with a yellow glow from the lion den's open entrance, exchanged a glance before peering down simultaneously towards Pidge for answers. Stunned, Pidge still struggled to catch her breath as she remained in Hunk's arms. She'd never relayed her climbing habits to the team. It was understandable she'd spooked them with her newfound and still amateur ability, but she never would've guessed it'd scare them to this scale.

Finally, Lance was the first to jumpstart the conversation.

"Ay-dios-mio...Pidge! What were you doing?!" With exaggeratedly wild hand movements, Lance gestured up towards Green's chest, then to the concrete below as if Pidge had deliberately rocketed herself downwards to be obliterated by the impact. "Even I'm not crazy enough to try that! Look, I know being old sucks, but by god, you're not even eighteen yet!"

"Lance, cut it out," Hunk scolded, stooping to let Pidge back down. She propped herself on shaky feet, as Lance continued to deliberately gesture. "Oh, I'm sorry, did we not just see her almost fall to her death?!"

"I'm sorry," Pidge huffed, fixing her glasses and feeling the stuffy heat reach her cheeks upon being caught out. "It's...it's just a thing I do sometimes."

"Without a harness?" Hunk nearly squeaked.

"I don't fall though," Pidge stammered, immediately loathing the skeptical looks thrown her way and the still ridiculous wordless gestures Lance kept up. "Well...not usually! I concentrate fine. You guys just threw me off."

"Literally!" Lance declared.

"What if the alarm went off while you were up there?!" Hunk brought the green paladin close, as if shielding her from the mere prospect of her getting injured. "Or you slipped?! Or Green suddenly went fully sentient and decided to fling you off?!"

"That couldn't happen, Hunk," Pidge drawled. She took in a deep breath, feeling an unusual weariness that usually didn't plague her so early in the day. "Look, guys, I'm sorry. I know this is a bad way to start off the morning. I just had to..." The sentence tapered off and she let herself stop at that, not knowing how else to finish.

"Well..." Lance straightened up, planting both hands on his hips. "We're supposed to be celebrating your birthday, not your death day! C'mon, we got a special breakfast to go to!"

"I said I didn't want a party," Pidge reminded through clenched teeth, pushing against Hunk's steady hand on the small of her back. Suddenly, she felt the urge to climb back up on Green, if it meant a clear path to escape. "Did you guys already forget that?"

"Oh, my dear small friend, it's not a party!" Lance assured, gesturing towards the doorway with a sweeping arm movement. "It's merely an intimate get-together."

"Call me small again and you're getting decked," Pidge threatened, before looking towards the inviting light of the doorway. The cold blues and grays of the lion's den transformed into warm rays of gold and red upon the imitated daylight. She didn't feel too reassured, instead a sense of fear lodging itself deep in her chest. "...please don't tell me it's a party."

Lance's face fell, his arms dropping to his sides. "Pidge, c'mon-"

"Please."

There they were again. The prickling of tears in her eyes made her jump, and she fought to keep them back. She wouldn't cry. Not in front of them. Not now.

Hunk laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, his face etched with seriousness. "It's not a party, Pidge," he assured. "Although you've gotta at least hear the wishes of a happy birthday. But we promise, it's nothing elaborate. Just an extra-big breakfast."

Pidge dropped her gaze to the floor, barely giving a nod in reply. The pang in her chest hardly loosened.

"...can I at least sing to ya?" Lance tried, his goofy smile stretching across his face. "C'mo-o-on, you've gotta let me! At least one time!"

"Let him," Hunk grumbled. "He's been bragging about it since last night."

Pidge heaved a sigh, tangling her fingers onto Hunk's vest for support as they headed to the doorway. The warmth was a brilliant change, but she knew it could go from calming to uncomfortable if she didn't go in with a clear head. For a second, she heard Green's rumble of a goodbye behind her.

"Fine," she shot towards Lance, stepping into the hallway. "Go ahead."

Elated, Lance broke out into song almost immediately. "Estas son las mañanitas, que cantaba a rey David—"

Lance's clear fluent Spanish drifted down the hall, bouncing off the walls, nearly contorting as Pidge pictured her brother and father at the doorway with their jester hats. Spanish morphed to English, as they sang for her with an enthusiasm unmatched by anything else. They sang for their Queen of the Day, and Pidge loved every second of it.

She opened her eyes, Lance and now Hunk's voices coming back into one fellow swoop, both paladins flanking Pidge as they moved down the hallway. "Ya los pajaritos cantan..."

"La luna ya se metió."