IMPORTANT A/N: Welcome, to the official Chapter One of this fic I'm working on. First off, THIS IS A CONTINUATION of my one-shot Klance story Over in a Tick. It's a short read but I did not want to include the 4k word story with this one. If you like some good character angst and heart throb, I highly suggest you read that first before starting this. (Everything'll also make a lot more sense if you do) Without further ado, I present Tick Me Off!

"I'm not dead!"

That was the first thing Lance McClain thought as he felt a pain push through his chest. He definitely knew that he was bleeding. The last thing he remembered was flashing red lights and then a sudden burst of white. It was hard to figure out what all had happened to him in those seconds that Blue had been taken hostage by the robeast.

Blue.

He supposed that after realizing that he wasn't dead, the sharpshooter was able to make sense of his surroundings - not that they made much sense either way. His limbs were sprawled out against the hard surface of the planet. Not only that, but as soon as Lance moved his left leg he was slamming his jaw together in a silent bout of pain.

Looking down, he saw that it was broken. Another sharp stab of pain in his side led him to believe that he might have broken a couple ribs just as well. No matter. You're cool. Collected. Calm.

He just had to find his helmet, and Keith - or somebody - would come and get him.

It was good to keep his mind and body busy with the pain. Otherwise, he would give into the sick feeling worming its way into his gut. The boy couldn't feel anything. He couldn't feel his or any of the other's connections, and that was more painful than any of his broken bones.

With keeping busy on his mind, the blue paladin put all his strength into pushing himself into a sitting position. That was hard enough, but there was bits of iron dust floating around the area he'd crashed in. Why had he crashed here, anyways? There was no sign of Blue or the rest of the team. Even Lance's helmet was missing (which might have attested to why Lance was bleeding from his head).

Looking up, McClain made out the smoke trail where the cheetah robeast must have made its course up and back down again. Bingo.

That trail marked his way back home. He wondered if he could make it as he was. The boy got to muttering about the unfair treatment from space as he bent over to inspect his legs. "I just mean, why's it always got to be the most talented member of the team?" he asked nobody, screwing up his face indignantly, "You don't see Keith constantly fighting for his life or takin' naps in the Cryopod."

Lance immediately regretted looking at his own leg. It was definitely not looking so hot. On the contrary, it was cold and numb when he ran a light finger over the swollen blue notch in his knee. "Think I'm gonna be sick."

After Lance composed himself, he wondered how risky it would be to stand up at all. He'd heard of people losing consciousness from pain alone. If there was anything Lance was sure of, it would be the fact that he had to stay awake - at least until he found the others. Who knew how long that would take, though? There was only one real way to find out!

He regretted every moment of his life coming up to this one point as he got onto his one good leg. Then it was a mix of tragic yelps and hops as he fought through the excruciating pain. If there was something he learned doing this, it was the simple fact that passing out from pain alone was a very real thing. And Lance McClain was living proof not ten seconds later.

Keith was still staring at the mess of mangled metal littered around the crash site. He couldn't tell if he was angry or numb, but decided that both feelings weren't enough to truly describe how he felt. The red paladin's heart slammed into his chest, making every beat painfully hard to stomach. He should be stronger than this, right?

Of course he could lose somebody out here in space. He should have been preparing for that inevitable outcome. The next most practical plan of action would be to get back to the group and figure out what to do now that they'd lost the Blue Lion. How would they form Voltron? That was the most pressing issue at the moment.

He tensed up when he felt a hand on his shoulder, though he knew he wasn't as adverse to the human contact as he was on a regular day.

"We'll find him," the voice assured Keith, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. It was Shiro. Of course it was Shiro, because who else would it be? None of the others knew how to deal with him, and he was pretty sure that a few might even be scared of him at the moment. He did look a little out of it - like he was about to set the world on fire.

Keith glared at the mess that was the Blue Lion, "He's gone. You can't feel him, either."

Shiro was looking at Keith and back at the crash site, his lips curled into a frown. He truly couldn't feel Lance's energy anywhere near them, but it didn't mean their sharpshooter was lost, "Come on, Keith. You know as well as I do that Lance is stronger than one of Zarkon's toys. He's alive."

Before a second more was wasted, Keith tore himself away from his friend. He was beside himself with emotions he told himself he'd never feel. The red paladin had guarded himself so thoroughly, that he had no way of making sense of himself when the pain broke through all his shields. But he did know that he was angry. Angry at Lance. Angry at Shiro. And angry at himself for not ever being enough. "Well, when you find him, I'll be back at the Castle. Figuring out what to do next."

A/N: Hello again! Thanks for reading this. If you like it, give it a follow or favorite it. I'm going to try to post a new chapter every Thursday and Monday if I can. Until then, stay happy fellow readers!