Weak Link- Voltron Legendary Defender

Chapter 3- Forgetfulness

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Chapter 3: Forgetfulness

Keith had heard girls scream before, out of joy, excitement and fear, but the cry that woke him had the tone of utter terror in it. He sat bolt upright, his right side aching in protest. He looked around for the source of the sound, his eyes landing on a tall, elegant figure that was running at a rapid, but unsteady pace out the door. He didn't recognize the person, and looked to a now standing Pidge for an explanation.
"Intruder!" she cried, and Keith dashed after the fleeing form, the brunette close behind.

Keith's legs weren't that long, but he could run at a decent pace, and soon, he had caught up with the fugitive. He tackled her, pinning her to the ground, one fist raised, ready to strike.
"Keith! Stop!" The Red Paladin paused. The face was different, but he knew the voice quite well.
"Allura?" The young women sighed, obviously relieved.
"Yes! It's me!" She shifted uncomfortably. "Now, would you mind getting off?" Keith blinked, taken aback, and quickly rose, freeing her, as Pidge came to a stop beside him, panting. He didn't understand what was happening. But whether he understood it or not didn't change the facts. The figure in front of him was no Altean. She was human.

Lance blinked, his mind racing. None of this was real. It couldn't be. He knew that he hadn't been in an asylum for the past six months; there was no way! Six months ago, he had been at the Galaxy Garrison, training to become the best pilot the university had ever seen. Not long after, he had been piloting the Blue Lion, and fighting alongside his teammates to defeat Zarkon. He remembered it all. Heck, he even remembered what he had eaten for lunch last Friday(Hunk's brown bean casserole was hard to forget). He certainly hadn't been spending all that time locked up in this room.

"Lance?" Lance glanced up at Shiro, who was looking at him with kind eyes, one hand on the Cuban's shoulder. His voice was calm and fatherly like always, but the man before him couldn't be Shiro. He was dressed in the clothes of a doctor, not a Paladin of Voltron, and there was something in his appearance that seemed... different... a difference that wasn't in his attire. Also, he was acting like everything that was happening was completely normal, which it obviously wasn't. Above all, and this is what threw Lance off the most, he was holding a long, ugly looking needle, with the intention of sticking it in Lance. That was a big no-no.

When he was younger, Lance had been a very well behaved child. But when his mother had taken him to the doctor's, the poor man didn't get within a foot of Lance before the young boy had bulldozed past him and run out the door, knocking the gentleman over in the process. Lance had and always would hate needles. Now was no exception.
"Shiro, please put that thing away! I can't stand shots!"Shiro capped the needle, putting it in his coat pocket, and he sat down, weaving his fingers together. Lance started, only just then realizing what it was about Shiro that had changed since he had last seen the older paladin.. The hands protruding from beneath the long sleeved lab coat... were both made of flesh and blood. Shiro's prosthetic hand was gone, and in its place was a normal human one that appeared to be in working order.
"Shiro! Your hand!" Lance cried, all thoughts about needles vanishing. "Wha- Your hand! What happened to it?"Shiro looked down at both his hands, a look of confusion on his face.
"Nothing's happened to either of them. They're fine."
"That's what I mean! What happened to your prosthetic?"
"My what? I don't have one."
"I can see that! Where'd it go?!" Shiro rolled his eyes.
"I've never had one before. Listen, Lance, I know you're going through a lot right now, what with everything that's happened in the past week or so. But I need you to stay with me. I want to help you, but I can't if you won't let me. Do you understand?" Lance shook his head.
"No, Shiro, you're the one who don't understand: we're not supposed to be here! This isn't real! We're Paladins of Voltron; you're no doctor and I'm no nutcase! Now let me out of here already!" Shiro sighed, shaking his head.
"I was worried this was going to happen. Your condition is worsening." He took out the shot again and uncapped it, gently grabbing hold of the side of Lance's head. Lance squirmed under his grip, but he was basically pinned to the floor. He gasped as an ice cold pain traveled through the side of his neck, and he squeezed his eyes shut. That was no ordinary shot. He winced as Shiro withdrew the needle, and his vision grew blurry.
"Ow... that... hurts... what is that?" he muttered, trying to focus on Shiro's face.
"Don't worry, Lance, just try to rest. The pain doesn't last that long, it's just your system trying to adjust to the new medication. This is a stronger dose than usual." Lance shook his head, trying to stay awake.
"No... Shiro... "But the Black Paladin had already faded from sight.