
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8304893.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
  Fandom:
      Voltron:_Legendary_Defender, The_Purge_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      Klance_-_Relationship, Keith/Lance_(Voltron), Hunk/Shay_(Voltron),
      Allura/Shiro_(Voltron)
  Character:
      Lance_McClain, Keith_Kogane, Shiro_(Voltron), Pidge_|_Katie_Holt, Allura_
      (Voltron), Lance's_Family, Hunk_(Voltron), Hunk's_Family
  Additional Tags:
      sensitive_topics, Rape, Self_Harm, Running, Lots_of_torture, Lots_of
      swearing_also, Not_Beta_Read, happy_70th_fic, so_pumped_to_write_about
      this_tbh, Klance_bonding_in_the_face_of_death, Lance_has_a_lot_of_weapons
      he_has_no_idea_how_to_use, Keith_thought_because_he_watched_anime_he
      could_do_it, non_binary_pidge
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-10-17 Chapters: 2/? Words: 2882
****** You Better Run ******
by SBK
Summary
     Lance is already off to a shitty start, and trying to persevere his
     very life he "accidentally" picks up some other people that could
     maybe, potentially help keep him alive.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
===============================================================================
 
Lance is unlucky, Lance is clumsy, Lance is forgetful. And of course, on the
one damn night  when you're not supposed to be any of these things he is  all
of these things. He  locked the door and lost his key somewhere.  He forgot to
pay his insurance bill, and tripped  cracking his phone.  Which in fact, no
longer works. The touch is wrecked for life, and that means he needs a new
phone but.
 
It's  purge night.  It’s March 21st, 2017 and Lance has all of these thing
happening to him at a whopping  six forty five.  Buses don't run today, buses
don't run until next week. Nowhere is open, and he's been all over the town
today buying guns to protect his ass. He has no idea where the fuck his key is.
At least he has a billion and one guns in a dufflebag which is slung over his
shoulder, which includes a mask in case he accidentally kills someone he knows.
 
Really, he just wants to fit in so he doesn't get his ass killed quick. Looking
helpless is usually what does it, especially in this rusty, run down area. He
supposes  he could always start heading home, to his parents’ house. Hunk has
probably boarded the place up but Lance is a hundred percent sure the guy
wouldn't mind opening the front door for Lance.
 
The Purge being good for America? What kind of chalked up bullshit is that?
Lance sighs, running a dark colored hand through his hair, a grunt leaving his
slightly chapped lips. Honestly what the  hell  is wrong with this country?
 
Right so, according to Lance’s wristwatch, it is now currently six fifty three.
Lance better get a move on, because in approximately seven minutes crazy
motherfuckers are going to be bounding to life, and they're going to be
insane.  And they're going to try popping unlucky kids off one by one and Lance
does not want to be one of those sad kids. So of course, he pulls out the
machete he'd gotten from the shop down the road. He then pulled out a handgun,
all apart of his duffle bag set. He zips up the bag, making sure it rests
easily on his shoulder.
 
“See ya, buddy.” Lance pats the front door to his humble home with the blade of
his “knife.” Making a kissy face at the door for but a moment before starting
to  sprint.  Good thing he wore his sneakers today, but he can definitely
already hear the crazy clowns. The honking horns and the  get ready you're
next.
 
Lance is  not  next. Sadly though, his home where he was born and raised is
all the way across the damn town.  Which means Lance is going to have to haul
some serious ass if he wants to get there anytime soon.
 
“This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the
commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of
class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other
weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted
immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any
and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police,
fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning
until 7 a.m., when The Purge concludes. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and
America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all.”
 
“Fuck, already?!” Lance practically trips over his feet, the sun already having
disappeared for the night. Lance really might  actually die  out here, and that
would just suck.
 
He swears he can already hear some chick screaming  rape  and then some other
guy yelling about slitting throats, and then some. What's hardly discussed
about the Purge is how all those mental ill people start busting out of the
asylums and jails. This day should be renamed to “Hell on Earth.” Or something.
It's okay Lance, you've stated up  forty eight  hours before, on top of all
that look at all this weaponry you have!
 
He stops dead in his tracks, the mask! He doesn't want someone who hates him to
see him and shoot him up. With shaky fingers, standing in the middle of an
empty road, the street lights flickering overhead, Lance pulls out a green mask
from his bag. Strapping it and securing it to his face with some trouble, he
manages to hide his identity for now. It's cold, freezing actually. But only on
this particular night, when Lance can hear his heart pounding in his ears. When
his hands shake like crazy, when he sweats profusely. When his hair is matted
down to his face, when he’s hidden his identity with a mask so he doesn't get
murdered.
 
He gulps, swallowing around what feels like a large lump in his throat. He can
hear it, the squealing of tires turning a sharp corner. People screaming,
gunfire, what sounds like explosions. Maybe this is something  worse  than Hell
on Earth. It deserves its own name, maybe the Purge is another term for certain
death.
 
Maybe standing in the middle of the road was a bad idea, seeing as Lance is
just standing there all creepy, weapons lowered at his sides. He isn't even
running anymore, just because he's scared. He's scared out of his mind, and at
the current moment he is now a danger to his own life. He might be a little
lucky for once in his life though, because some guy wearing bright red has just
rammed  into him with the force of a Judo master. It's enough to snap Lance out
of his trance and raise his weapons all sorts of defensively.
 
“Ugh, what the hell?!” Said guy exclaims, rubbing at his face. He's noticeably
unarmed, and when he looks up his face seems to drain entirely. Eyes wide,
hands starting to shake at his sides as he starts to bound backwards like a
rabbit.
 
“Keith?!” Lance yells, and with his  own  shaking hand, he lifts his mask some.
Keith just looks confused, staring at Lance all “how do you know my name.”
 
“Uh… Yeah? Who are you?”
 
“I'm Lance. Remember? Your rival? Lance and Keith, neck and neck?” Lance has
his weapons lowered entirely, though he's a bit of a squirmy talker so he's
waving these potentially dangerous items around like they're not as bad as they
seem.
 
“Oh… oh yeah! I remember you. You… purge?” And the judgmental look Keith gives
Lance  stings,  and Lance has no right to be offended but he is.
 
“I do  not.  I protect myself. I'm going home right now,it just happens to be
super far away. What about you? You should be inside.” Lance crosses his arms,
gun and machete still in his hands.
 
“I… Half my apartment complex is being shot up right now. So I ran, I don't
have anything at the moment…” Keith looks embarrassed, and then shocked when
Lance shoved the gun and machete into the poor boy’s hands.
 
“Right, right. Well now you're coming with me and we're both going to my house
and we're gonna drink Ma's wine and eat all the food in the house. She makes
killer enchiladas, and Hunk makes crazy Chicken Chipotle. It doesn't get better
than that, senior.” Lance unzips his bag again, busting out a bat with nails
hammered into it. Then he grabs a shotgun, and then proceeds to throw the bag
to the ground. “It's safer in a group of two anyway, so it isn't like you
don't  benefit from this at all.”
 
“Are you… seriously giving this to me? What if I shot you right now?” Keith
looks skeptical, making that face when he has a problem with something. Lance
was always in Keith's space back in highschool, but that's irrelevant at the
moment.
 
“I hope you do, shakin’ my head, I'd rather just die but you're coming with me.
I'll shoot you good, so I don't suggest it.” Lance informs, before motioning
for Keith to follow him.
 
“How are you so prepared?”
 
“I was in highschool. I've gone through the purge phase, though I never killed
anyone. I just stole liquor.” Lance is already bolting, and Keith is struggling
to stay close behind his hero. They dive through alleyways, they climb fences,
they wait for creepy clown dicks to drive by before bolting to their next
obstacle. All is well.
 
Until  really big  van with  really big men  pull up. Opening their doors,
pointing weird looking guns and shit at the two awkwardly standing kids - both
a whopping eighteen.
 
“Ah  fuck.  Look what you did Keith.” Lance groans, tossing his head back as he
throws his weapons to the ground immediately after Keith.
 
“What I did?! You were the one leading!”

“Yeah, yeah. Blame it on your hero.” Lance sighs, it's taking all he can not to
grin. He has a whole lot more than just giant, fancy looks guns and other
painful ways to die. These guys are about to learn why Lance is called the
tailor.
***** Encounter *****
Chapter Summary
     Two allies join our squad.
Chapter Notes
     I’m so sorry for taking so long to update aaaaa
The man in the van climb out, guns pointed at them with unshakable
determination - Lance and Keith are probably goners, by all definitions, there
is no way they would rationally be able to survive this. But Lance is here, and
Lance has survived worse - let’s not talk about that. With a grin he’s
struggling to hide, he brings his arms down fast, tiny balls falling from his
sleeves. Confusion is the first emotion to cover the men and their faces, the
next is a spout of smoke spewing from the balls.
“Run!!” Lance shouts, yet he still grabs Keith by the wrist to ensure that the
guy at least knows what general direction to go in. Guns are being fired at the
ground, and towards them, and it won’t be long before that van comes hurtling
towards them. Lance has other plans. He unties his shoes, revealing a series of
sharp, pointy objects - daggers? He takes one, and chucks it at the tires - c l
a n k.
“How did you miss that?” Keith raises a brow, before grabbing one of the
daggers from Lance, taking matters into his own hand. He chucks it, and it hits
the tire, which pops, air gushing from the hole.
“Hey!” But before Lance can get too angry, Keith is already tugging Lance away
from the van, the poor guy wasn’t even able to tie his shoe back up.
They ran for a good fifteen minutes before winding up in a wishy washy, run
down alley way, stinking of heavy liquor and garbage. Lance finds himself on
his ass, panting for air, one hand pressed against his forehead, while Keith
leans against one of the buildings, semi “cool.”
Lance finally manages to tie up his shoe, before locking eyes with Keith, and
he opens his mouth-
“I dropped the bag, the gun, and the bat !” Lance shouts, gripping the sides of
his hair and tugging slightly. Holy shit, holy fucking shit. They have nothing!
Lance tugs his mask back down over his face, mainly to hide his embarrassment,
because he isn’t getting that 23k back, and he certainly isn’t going to be able
to survive out here with the goddamn crazed animals.
“We really, and I mean REALLY have to go now. We gotta get to my ma ma, and
she’s gonna whoop my ass for not having anything than a mask and a lost boy
with me, but we gotta go.” As if this were a play, and it was the que for them
to move really fast, tires screech out, and a raspy voice chimes something
about pretty boys~ and Lance is tanking Keith by the shirt, and by god are they
running.
Oof.
Lance, one second was sprinting, and the next he was toppling over a tiny
person, and winding up on the ground with said tiny person.
“What the hell?!” They shouted, shoving Lance off of them, before holding a
tiny handgun at Lance, and Lance really shouldn’t have laughed but he did. They
shot the gun. It’s something neither the tiny person, nor Lance expected, but
alas, there was now a bullet hole in the uneven, wet ground. And Lance was
screeching like a baby, kicking, and squirming until he eventually made his
place behind Keith, jamming Keith forward between him and the tiny person.
“Keith?” The person inquired, lowering their gun, and adjusting their glasses.
“Pidge?” Keith looked terrified, and just like the interaction between Lance
and Keith, Keith asks again, for the second time that night with judging eyes:
“You purge?”
“No I do not purge!” Pidge sounds honestly offended, just like Lance had, and
Lance can’t help but speak up.
“He asked me the same thing, not everyone running around outside shooting at
people is purging, Keith!” Keith and this Pidge person give Lance an incredible
look of disbelief. What he just said was extremely contradictory.
“Regardless, I was after some illegal data you can’t get otherwise, when some
smart ass showed up with white hair and beat me to the chase. His squad of
freaks chased me all the way out here, and now everyone is a threat.” Pidge
hissed, adjusting their glasses, tucking their gun into the waistline of their
shorts.
“You can come with us to his house.” Keith offers, jutting a finger out at
Lance.
“HEY, Don’t just be inviting people over to my moms house.” Lance pouts.
“You still live with your mom?” Pidge raises his brows, and Lance once more,
looks incredibly offended.
“I DO NOT, I just lost my key to MY house, and now we have to go to my MOMS
house because she’s an incredible lady and will definitely help us without
hesitation.” Lance scratched at his scalp. “As it stands though, the two of us
are unarmed, you’re armed but you’re tiny and probably going to die, what do we
do?”
“We run, because there’s a group of very scary dudes itching like snakes on the
kill behind you, cackling like juggalos, let’s go.” Pidge squakes, and is
already running rapidly, and Lance doesn’t even turn around before he has his
hand around Keith’s wrist, taking Keith along with him. Gun shots can be heard,
and man these guys have terrible aim, because Lance can audibly here all the
things the shots are being hit off, but hasn’t actually felt any pain, but just
to make sure, Lance steadily pushes Keith in front of him, as to ensure Keith
actually manages to survive for whatever unknown reason. Lance the selfless
hero, what a good headline.
They hit a dead end. It’s so unbelievable, it’s so cliche, the three of them
are going to die there because of a dead end, and a crazy night that shouldn’t
exist.
Huff… huff…
Lance manages a grin, and it’s the best he can do because he’s about to be
their hero again.
“Climb the wall Keith, I’ll help Pidge out behind you, go.” And Keith starts
climbing, and by pure miracle Keith manages to scrape his way to the top, and
Lance is pushing the tiny person up by their waist, and Keith is grabbing said
tiny person by the armpits and tugging them up, and then the laughter gets
louder, Lance pushes them.
They fall back.
Lance then, alone, has no clue why he helped two people out, but he’s not come
to realize this is where he’s going to die. But at least, not without trying to
survive. He manages to duck behind a dumpster, and the scent is horrible and
overwhelming and he’s gagging. He doesn’t want to imagine what horrible, rotten
corpses are sitting in the bottom of this dumpster, so he won’t.
Lance can hear their shoes scuff against the concrete ground, they talk amongst
themselves, and then, as soon as they came they’re already heading away.
Perhaps this was a lack of judgement, but Lance lets out a sigh all too soon,
he’s being hoisted up by his collar immediately after.
“Gah- mmmffphh!!!!!!!” A hand covers his mouth, and he’s being carried away
like a princess. Lance’s face is pushed so far into this person's chest, that
he has no idea what’s going to become of him other than certain demise. He’s
dropped.
“Ow- what the hell!” Lance chimes, rubbing at his tailbone, arching his back,
and writhing in actual agony.
“My name is Shiro, and I’m grateful that you helped my younger brother Keith. I
wasn’t able to directly join you guys right then, because I was being chased,
but I hope you don’t mind if we stick together from here?”
Lance nearly suffers from shock. This man is a muscle man, and he’s got GUNS,
and he’s got a mask, and he looks like someone that could really, REALLY, hurt
Lance, so Lance is going to trust Shiro without much hesitation because his
options are limited.
“Yes, please do.” Lance practically begs, and Shiro extends a hand.
“Let’s go, we have to find those other two, because I highly doubt they will
survive very long on their own.” Shiro was not wrong, he hardly was.
End Notes
     Wolf by EXO is hella good, strong recommendation if K-Pop gets your
     dick hard
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