Lance shot up into a seated position, breathing heavily. He felt around his skull frantically, but was relieved when he discovered that it wasn't split down the middle. Then again, if it had been, he wouldn't have been awake.

It was just a dream. Just a dream, he reminded himself, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as he tried to calm down. I'm not a child, I'm not in Cuba anymore, I'm fine. It's okay, I'm okay. He slowed his breathing as much as he could, but his dream still hovered on his eyelids. But. . . . where am I?

He looked up and was unable to believe the sight that met his eyes. He was in the castle. He was home, away from the hell that he had been trapped in. Relief flooded him, immediately accompanied by the urge to find his teammates, hoping that they would greet him happily.

He jumped up from the white bench and sprinted into the bowels of the ship, not noticing how his feet made no sound along the floor. He wandered its passageways, searching for someone, anyone.

Lance's ears perked up when he heard Allura's voice around a corner, and he ran faster to reach her, only to falter when he heard her words.

"If I'm being honest, Coran, I'm happy Lance is gone," she was saying, walking beside her caretaker. "I've been amazed by how well they're performing without him. Ever since we replaced him, everything has run much more smoothly, including forming Voltron!"

Coran nodded in agreement. "Yes, indeed. The new paladin is just incredible, isn't she? She caught on to everything so much more quickly than Lance did, plus she can actually take things seriously sometimes."

Lance stopped completely short, every word sending a stab of pain through his chest, tears welling in his eyes. I smiled through my sadness, through everything for them when they didn't even want it? The droplets fell on the floor. He didn't even try to stop them. Is this how they really feel? Would they have preferred this version of me, the broken, useless version? If so, that's what I'll give them, because if I can't be happy, then at least they will be.

"Allura, wait." He spoke without thinking, reaching a hand out to her shoulder. "I'm here. Can't you see?"

Coran and the Princess continued their conversation about this new paladin's variously outstanding merits, completely oblivious. It was as if they couldn't hear him.

"Hello? I'm here. I - I'm right here." He inhaled sharply as his hand phased right through Allura's shoulder. "No. . . . how is this happening?"

Desperately, he rushed in front of them, waving his arms around to get their attention, but they didn't notice. Instead, they kept on walking, passing right through him. As they turned another corner, he shook his head. No, I'm sure someone will miss me. There have to be others who feel differently.

He took off, circling the castleship, every hallway, looking out for anyone he knew. First, he ran past Pidge's room, skidding to a halt and running back to peer into the doorway when he heard laughter.

Through the clutter, he could see that Pidge, Hunk, and the turquoise-skinned alien girl he assumed was his replacement were tapping vigorously on controllers to the game that had been set up in his room just a few days earlier. They were smiling and happily playing around.

"You're so much better at this than Lance was, Aria," the green paladin commented. "You almost beat me that one time. He hadn't even come close when he played."

Aria cocked her head slightly, confused, her lavender hair falling over her shoulder. "I've heard that I'm so much better than him many times, but I don't really understand. What was he like?" She asked.

Her voice was just as musical as her name, and it had a slight, indescribable accent, her green eyes widening in curiosity.

"Honestly, he was really annoying," Hunk supplied. "I pretended to be his friend because I'm that nice, but I didn't actually mean it. He was just too immature, and I hated it. Imagine having to hang out with a person who acted like a child all the time? Yeah, that was Lance. Also, he never shut up, and it drove me mad."

Lance winced as bolts of pain shot through his chest. They were getting worse, and he couldn't tell why. It was as if the words were somehow affecting him not only mentally, but physically as well.

"O - oh," the alien girl said. "Was he really that bad?"

"Yes," Pidge and Hunk replied in unison.

"But don't think that just because you pilot the same lion that he did you're as bad as he was," Pidge comforted Aria.

She turned to her friends. "You speak as if he's dead. What happened to him?"

Pidge shrugged. "We don't know. He was captured by the Galra, but he never showed up again, and we didn't want to risk everything to rescue him, so. . . ." She trailed off, staring at the screen. "Ha! Beat you again! Good game, though."

"But he was still your teammate," Aria pointed out. "And teammates are special. They're family, and you don't abandon your family."

Lance looked at her, still holding his chest. She seemed to actually care about what happened to him, and that gave him a little hope.

"We already have you, so why do we need him?" Hunk stated blatantly.

His words, though blunt, drove through Lance like a knife.

It hurt.

His friends, the ones who he had sacrificed himself for, hadn't appreciated it, hadn't appreciated him.

Sorrow washed through him as he stood outside Pidge's room, watching his replacement give up the chase and return to her game. He leaned against the wall to keep from falling over as the pain grew.

No, she's not your last hope. You still have Keith and Shiro. They have to notice you, he thought to himself, and began his journey around the castleship once more, trying to find them.

. . . .

Lance clutched his heart as another stabbing sensation rocketed through it.

His venture had not helped his mental state.

No matter what he tried, no one could hear him. As he slowly walked away from Keith's room, Lance broke down.

Why? Why can't they hear me? I escaped that prison for this?! His knees collapsed beneath him, and sobs racked his body. Why are they torturing me like this?! Why is it so painful?! At this point, I'd rather be dead. Even that would be more merciful!

He had never felt so alone, not even when he was curled up on his bed, missing Earth. Not even when he had realized he didn't fit in anywhere.

Keith's and Shiro's words had only fanned the flames of his depression.

"He was so useless, unfit to be a paladin. He was never able to help the team. And in fact, I don't know why we didn't have the brilliant idea to replace him sooner. It would have saved us a lot of time and effort."

Shiro had been his idol. Lance had looked up to him, and to hear this from him. . . . it was devastating.

"I would agree, Shiro. He was so immature and idiotic, I don't understand why the Blue Lion chose him in the first place. Maybe out of pity?"

Like Shiro, Lance had admired Keith for his bravery and strength. Everything about him was effortless, from the way he fought to the way he looked, as if he was perfect without even trying. Lance had always wanted to be like him, but now that was ruined.

You should have known, Lance thought to himself. His pace slowed as he rubbed his eyes to clear them of the tears that kept on coming. You should have known that you would never be able to keep up with them. You should have known that you weren't enough.

With every thought, the agony in his chest grew, spreading across his entire body. It felt like knives being shoved into every inch of him, and his legs finally gave in, causing him to fall to his knees.

They were right, he sobbed. You are useless. You are idiotic. You are annoying and immature and replaceable. You are weak.

His mind pointed out every flaw, every unfavorable trait to him through his supposed friends' own words, which whirled through his head. It was a chaos of negative emotions, and it didn't help that the stabbing pain was only getting worse.

He doubled over on the hard metal of the castleship, and even though there were no visible wounds, blood dripped out of his mouth and down his chin.

Lance coughed and his throat rattled at the amount of blood in his lungs.

No one loved him.

No one cared about him.

So he wouldn't care about himself either.

As he felt death closing in on him, his life didn't flash before his eyes, because why would it if he didn't care? What would the point be?

He felt nothing. And that's the way he died. He was empty until the end.

(A/N): I didn't want to have an author's note on this chapter, but I couldn't help it. I just want to thank those who are voting on this story, QueenofCrybaby, TatianaNamo and MorganLOVEAphmau. (I know that I might miss those who vote after this chapter is published). I really can't tell you how much this means to me. Even though it's simple, I still really appreciate it and it encourages me to keep on writing (which isn't really good for Lance, but whatever).

And wow, I just realized that the mood change is so abrupt from the actual chapter and the author's note, lol.

Okay, so see you next chapter (it's going to be a big one) :)