Lance wiped the sweat that had begun to accumulate on his brow. How long had he been in here? Lance didn't remember. He needed to get better. How could he expect to stay if he was doing nothing for the team? "Begin Training Level 102?" the bot asked.
"Yes," Lance panted. The bots eyes turned red and began it's attack. It ran on the right and Lance brought his bayard up to shoot it. The bot, sensing Lance's shot, ducked at the last moment and brought it's sword down on Lance's thigh. Lance let out a scream before bringing the but of the bayard on the bot's pressure point. The bot slumped to the ground and Lance shot it in the chest.
"Training Level 102 complete. Begin Training Level 103?"
"End Training sequence" Lance grunted. The bot disappeared through the floor. Lance grunted in pain as he worked to stop the blood flow. Shit. He got hit pretty hard. Lance grit his teeth as he tied a turquinent from spare fabric on the ground.
Lance knew he should probably go to a healing pod, but then his teammates would know how truly pathetic he was. Everyone had probably already passed level 102 with ease and yet here was Lance, bleeding.
Lance limped to the med bay and sat down with a huff. He wouldn't go into the pod but he could at least treat his wound. He lightly peeled the fabric on his pants off his wound and almost blacked out from pain.
Lance hesitantly picked up the rubbing alcohol. This was going to sting. Lance put his belt in his mouth and bit down hard and poured the alcohol onto his wound. He grit his teeth but screamed from the pain. When it had finally left Lance sat there panting.
After disinfecting the wound Lance wrapped it up in bandages. He gently lifted his leg and tested it by putting pressure on it. He could walk, but he would have a mad limp until he healed. He limped back into his room and laid on the bed. The clock read three forty. Lance closed his eyes and willed himself to fall asleep. But the dark thoughts come when you want them least.
You're weak.
Useless.
No wonder everyone hates you, you can't do anything.
You couldn't even beat level 102. Pathetic.
You don't deserve to be the Blue Paladin.
Lance let the dark thoughts consume him, his head nodding to the voice, agreeing with everything the voice said. His stomach growled. When was the last time he had actually eaten anything? Yesterday? Two day ago? Lance didn't remember, that probably wasn't a good sign.
Lance ignored the pain in his stomach and tried to ignore the agony in his leg so he could fall asleep. Lance slipped into a dreamless sleep.
==Time skip==
"Lance! Cover Pidge!" Shiro yelled. Lance nodded and shifted his weight so he would take the blunt of the hits. His injured leg was screaming but he needed to gaurd Pidge. The training was brutal but something Lance had been through a dozen times. They were on Level 42 which confused Lance. Everyone had already passed level 100 hadn't they? So why were they doing such a low level?
"Auugh!" Pidge screamed. Shit! Lance was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't see the shot coming to Pidge's back.
"End training sequence!" Shiro yelled. "Pidge! Are you okay?"
"Yeah I'm fine," Pidge said and then turned to face Lance with a glare. "What the hell Lance?"
"I'm so sorry Pidge, I didn't see it--"
"Maybe if you trained more you would see it!" Keith fired. Lance stared at him in confusion. Didn't they know he trained from eleven to four every night? Who did they think was training at night?
