Day 6: Intimacy
Shiro’s voice sounded over the comms in Pidge’s helmet. “We’ve made it out. Just waiting on the two of you.”
“Roger that,” Pidge replied. “I have the file, I just need to—”
Lance burst into Lotor’s bedroom. “Pidge! Incoming!”
Pidge cursed. Lotor wasn’t supposed to be back for another two vargas at least! She glanced around for an exit, but Lotor’s caution was her downfall; there were no windows and no air vents, and one door, which led to the sitting room where Lance had been keeping watch. Her eyes landed on the closet door. It’ll have to do. Grabbing Lance by the arm, she darted inside, shutting the door behind them just as Lotor entered his room.
“Pidge? What’s your status?” Shiro sounded alarmed, and Pidge couldn’t blame him.
“Hiding,” she whispered, afraid to reveal Lance’s and her presence to Lotor. “It may be a while.” She turned off her comms so the voices and signals wouldn’t give her away, and noticing what she was doing, Lance did the same.
As it became clear that Lotor had yet to notice their presence, Pidge’s heartbeat settled, and she began to be uncomfortably aware that she was enclosed in an awfully tight space. In the dark. With Lance. Her face burned, and she had to force herself not to flinch away from him.
He must have picked up on her sudden tension. “Is everything all right?” he asked in the barest whisper. Pidge tensed, but it seemed Lotor’s pointy ears had failed to pick up Lance’s inquiry.
“Peachy,” she whispered back. Breathe, Pidge. This is for the mission, nothing more.
The ticks passed in ever-increasingly uncomfortable silence, unbroken except for the pad, pad, pad of Lotor’s pacing footsteps on the thick carpet. The beeps and blips of his computer. The distant, ever-present hum of the ship’s engine. The nervous, deliberate breathing of two invaders trying not be heard.
Thump. Pidge started in alarm before realizing the sound was most likely Lotor flopping onto his bed in much the way she did after a long day.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Though Lance’s voice never rose above a faint whisper, his concern was nonetheless evident.
Pidge gritted her teeth. “I’m fine.”
“We’ll make it out of here.”
“And then what?” Pidge tried to keep her voice from rising. “We’ll keep fighting the Galra, never quite winning, never quite losing, and sometimes it feels like it’s never going to end and I’ll never find my family. And what if someone dies and it’s my fault? I don’t think I could live with myself if–”
“Shhh.” Lance wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest, and she leaned into him, grateful for his support. “I don’t know if you’re right or wrong, but I’m here for you no matter what.”
“Hopefully not ‘here’ as in ‘in this closet’ for much longer,” Pidge joked, her voice a little shaky.
At that moment, they heard a loud snore from the room beyond. Pidge couldn’t help giggling, and she could hear Lance snickering as well. Who would have guessed that the elegant Galra prince snored? Lance dared to speak aloud. “That sounds like our cue to scram.” He eased open the closet door, and together, Green and Blue Paladins sprinted for the hangar where the Green Lion awaited.