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Lance really did not want the team to know that he was sick, even if it was a cold from Hell. That’s all it was. A cold. Albeit one of the worst colds he’s ever had, but a cold. Plain and simple. Everyone’s had a cold at least once, even Keith Immune-to-Everything Kogane.
This cold, though, brought serious congestion and the need to sneeze every two seconds. Most of the time, Lance’s sneezing fits were done in private because they often brought him to his knees. One time, a black fog appeared in the corners of his vision, and he nearly passed out. That was fun. But the most fun thing about this cold? A number of tissues Lance has had to use. When he sneezes, it feels like his body is bringing up all of the fluids of his body and turning it into snot. Either there’s so much snot that he feels like his skull was replaced by it and then some, or his nose is so dry that it bleeds. Lance has barely slept, and when he does, he has to wake up early to replace his pillowcase for the blood staining it.
Training wasn’t getting any easier, especially now that Lance has barely slept for a week. It certainly isn’t getting any easier now that he has to leave in order to sneeze. He doesn’t want the team to get sick or see him while he’s sick. He knows he’s not weak, but he’d rather not have Pidge freak out or Allura and Coran ask him questions about the human body and human sicknesses. So, Lance has taken to sneaking off to sneeze into a tissue from one of the packs he got from the space mall during a recent visit. He knows that his team has noticed a few times, but Hunk (thank goodness for Hunk) has taken their attention off Lance’s disappearances.
Hunk has been around Lance enough to know that this is what he does when he has a nasty cold. Hunk knows he’ll be fine. Of course, he never told the team why Lance disappeared, just that he would be back and he was okay. They didn’t question either of them after that.
The dark craters beneath Lance’s eyes continued to grow with time as he got less and less sleep. He would cover them up with concealer he brought from Earth, but makeup can’t cover up how he can’t stop spacing out or the dull look in his eyes or the fact that his movements are getting more and more sluggish. Makeup can’t cover up the everlasting itch in the back of his nose or the way his nose will start bleeding and he won’t even notice until Keith takes him out of the training room and into the closest bathroom.
Lance was sat on the edge of the bathtub with his head leaned forward, and Keith trying to stop the bleed.
“I used to get into a lot of fights in the Garrison, and before that, too, so I know how to stop one pretty well,” Keith explains as he pinches Lance’s nose together and pushes toward his skull. They sit in silence until Keith lets go, and Lance washes his face.
“I’ll be right back. Stay here.” Keith returns a moment later with a pack of ice wrapped in a rag. He goes to place it on Lance’s face, but his hand brushes against Lance’s forehead, and Keith recoils like he’s been burned. Lance whines at the loss of the cold coming from the ice. It’s so hot in the bathroom, and he’s sweating and shivering and confused. Keith puts his hand back on Lance forehead, and Lance leans into the cool feeling of his palm. Keith takes it back again, and Lance wants to cry.
“You’re on fire, Lance!” Keith yells. Lance flinches and clamps his hands over his ears. Lance whimpers in pain, and Keith gently takes hold of his wrists. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. Forgive me?” Lance looks down at him with wide eyes that remind Keith of an innocent child’s. He nods, and Keith stands up. Keith goes to help Lance up, but Lance is hiding his face in his hands. “What? What’s wrong?” Keith panics. Lance shakes his head. Keith takes Lance’s wrists again and pulls them away to reveal a wild blush taking over Lance’s paled complexion. “You’re embarrassed?” keith laughs.
“Don’ laugh,” Lance whines, “I’m like a child when ‘m sick. I have reason to be embarrassed.” By the end, Lance is grumbling and slurring.
“No, no, it’s cute.” Keith grins as Lance whines again, but Lance looks even more tired after talking, so Keith helps him to his room.
“’S not my room.”
“No, it’s mine. Get some sleep, Lance.” Lance nods exhaustedly, but he just lays with a blank look in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“’M not tired,” he slurs in reply.
“You are. Why aren’t you sleeping?” Lance prompts himself up on shaky elbows to look at Keith.
“Two reasons, one, fever dreams are never very pleasant for me, and two, I don’t wanna burden you, so I’m trying to figure out how to get out of your mullet without you getting mad at me.” Lance looks even more drained, and he drops back down onto his back.
“You’re not a burden, and you’re not leaving. Not like this.”
“You have training. So do I,” Lance argues. Keith glares at the sick boy before realizing that Lance is probably so out of it and tired, so he lets out a breath.
“Just sleep, please,” Keith pleads. “I’ll be here to fight off your dreams, I promise.” Lance give him a look.
“Only you would fight a dream.”