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Someone was crying.
That wasn’t much of a statement; someone was always crying. The universe was too vast and full of hate for no one to be crying. Broken children cried over lost parents every day; really, it didn’t matter.
But the tears that were falling were falling much closer to home as the Earthlings would say. The Galra people had a different turn of phrase for the same feeling ‘closer to heart’. That seemed so much more personal, even if the home is where the heart is.
Earthlings had so many different sayings; it was hard to keep them straight. Even with Lance’s help, Lotor was having a hard time of it.
His Galra hearing was what had led him down the empty hallway in the first place. He could hear the barely perceptible plip, plip, plip of tears against cold metal from rooms away, and it drew him. Empty rooms passed him by as he walked the barren hallway, the sound getting louder and louder as he got closer and closer.
Finally, he came to the bridge, a room he technically wasn’t allowed to be in, but he was sure that trying to comfort someone would be an acceptable excuse. Not stopping to think if the person inside would even want his comfort, he slid the door open silently.
The universe expanded out in front of him.
Really, it was only a fraction of the universe. Tiny pinpricks of light stood in place of massive stars that floated around Lotor’s head as he waded through the empty vastness toward the plip, plip, plip of tears.
The Blue Paladin sat in the center of the universe, a tiny blue light in the palm of his hand. His head was resting on the top of his knees which had been pulled to his chest.
Lotor felt his chest tighten as he stared at the Paladin; Lance was no more than a boy in this war, and it had never been so apparent before as it was now.
“The universe is so big.” The simple statement shocked Lotor out of his silence. Lance’s voice was thick as if he had been trying to hold the words back too long, and they had finally broken free.
The prince, for all his diplomatic preparation, found himself at a loss for words; they had taught him how to deal with emissaries, not crying Paladins of Voltron.
“I mean, that’s what they always told us in school. Space is bigger than you could ever imagine, so none of us ever bothered to imagine just how massive it is. I mean, this is just one one-thousandth of this universe, and already I’m feeling small… insignificant.
“Voltron is the defender of the Universe, but how are we in charge of so much?” He spun the light that he held in his hand around, and the entire room spun around him, the most distant stars creating streaks of light around the room. “This is just the Milky Way Galaxy.” Lance hadn’t moved the entire time that Lotor had been there except to spin this fraction of space.
“It looks so small here; I could set it on the tip of my finger.” He did just that and stared at the tiny pinprick before using both of his arms to enlarge that one speck. “If I zoom in, and this takes a while, then eventually I see something that I’m only familiar with.” The image depicted a spiral galaxy with a bright, burning center. “But you can’t even see my solar system from here.”
The galaxy dissipated as Lance searched for familiar space. “Here it is.” Lance sounded breathless, like just finding his solar system had taken more effort than waving his arms around a little. “This is my solar system, and this is Earth. We’re not the biggest planet, not even here. We’re not the smallest planet. We are just so, terribly… mediocre.”
Lance stood now, his hand reaching out desperately to touch the blue planet, only for his fingers to slip right through the hologram, causing the image to flicker.
The Blue Paladin collapsed in on himself. His arms wrapped around his body as he fell to his knees, the small plip, plip, plip returned to Lotor’s ears.
“But that small, mediocre planet is so amazing, isn’t it?” Lotor stepped up to Lance, placing a hand on the human’s shaking shoulder as he looked to Earth. “After all, if I recall correctly, this is the only planet in your solar system that has the capabilities of sustaining life. I think that’s pretty impressive for a drearily mediocre planet, don’t you?”
Lance raised his head to look at the prince. “There are so many other planets out there that can sustain life though. I mean, look at the universe. Really look at it. There’s Olkarion, the Balmeras, Arusia. There are so many other planets out there that support life. We thought that we were special when we didn’t know about aliens.
“There are so many more planets out there with civilizations far more advanced than ours. Altea and Daibazaal were advanced enough to send out treaties, start and end wars, and travel the galaxies long before Earth had even started to build the pyramids. We couldn’t even travel our own planet, and you were exploring more than we could ever imagine.”
“But you’re here now,” Lotor said. He pulled Lance back up to his feet. “You might have been a race that no one’s ever heard of from a planet that no one’s ever cared about, but you,” he poked Lance’s shoulder for emphasis. “Have become one of the five most important people in the Universe.”
Lotor zoomed out further than Lance had been before until they were standing in the center of the entire Universe. “Out of everything here, all of the infinite galaxies, and planets, and people. You are more important than all of this. The Lions chose you. That is so incredible, can’t you see that?”
Lance’s eyes were cast downward, releasing little plip, plip, plips to the floor. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so incredible.” He said in a small voice. “Sometimes I want to be a mediocre boy from a mediocre planet that no one’s ever heard about. Sometimes I want to leave Voltron behind and just go home. I want to go home and see my family, but I can’t.
“I need to stay here because I’m so important, and that’s all I’ve wanted. I’ve just wanted to be important to someone my entire life. I just want my family back, but they’ve probably given up on me. They probably think I’m dead. Nadia and Sylvio, they’re going to grow up without their Uncle Lance. I’ll just be a few pictures in the family photo album to them, someone that they have to point at and ask ‘who’s that?’”
Lotor shook his head, his silver hair falling in front of him before he threw it back over his shoulder. “No.” He said adamantly. “No, you’ll return to Earth as a Hero. People will look at framed photos of you on the wall, and they won’t need to ask who you are, because your name would have been written on a plaque under it, and it will say ‘Lance McClain, Paladin of Voltron.’”
Lotor pulled the two of them together, feeling the wetness of Lance’s tears through the thin material that they had given him for recreational use. “You will be revered throughout the Universe, even after you have returned home. Everyone will remember you, I, perhaps, most of all.”
The human’s shaking body felt so frail against his own. Once again, he was reminded of just how young they all were. “I’m scared, Lotor.” The admission left him feeling hollow. “I don’t want to die out here. I don’t want to die in space.”
Lotor wrapped his arms more tightly around Lance. “I will not let that happen.” He said it in a brief paroxysm, but found that he meant it as truly as he could mean something. “I swear to you; I will not let that happen to you. You have my word as an Altean.
“You will go back to your family, even if I have to fight the entire Universe tooth and nail to ensure it.”