Chapter Text
Keith thinks he’s being quite calm considering the situation he’s in.
After all, not everyone can claim to be able to stay rational while being trapped in an escape pod that’s sinking into an endless ocean of inky blue. Even if he’s starting to panic ever-so-slowly.
Because his oxygen will run out soon, and then he’ll be lost forever.
He can’t say that that doesn’t make him panic at least a bit.
Curling into a small ball in the pod’s corner, he has to hold his sobs back lest he use up too much air while heaving for breath. Determined, he ignores the pain in his side where a sentry’s shot had grazed him.
His ribs tighten around his lungs and heart painfully as he remembers how well the day had started.
He’d gotten up early and taken his time enjoying breakfast with the other paladins; after that, Lance had pulled Keith into a room far away from the lounge, where their friends had been, and Lance had whispered sugary sweet nothings, and promises that were heavy with implications to Keith, all while he’d made Keith scream. When they’d parted, Lance had kissed him, burning all the butterflies in Keith’s stomach with a single touch, and he’d promised to make Keith lose his mind after the mission– if it went well.
But it had gone terrifyingly wrong.
Keith had entered the empire’s spaceship alongside Hunk and Pidge on board of the green lion.
They’d been discovered while on the bridge, downloading the ship’s data. Hunk had stayed with Pidge to keep her safe while she worked, and Keith had gone to get rid of the sentries before they could reach the bridge.
Keith pushes his head further between his knees and almost cries in frustration and regret as he remembers how much he’d underestimated the sentries.
There had been so, so many of them.
And only one of Keith.
He’d been high off the thrill of cutting through sentry after sentry, rendering them useless while they only managed to deliver small cuts to his arms and legs, but never his torso.
He had to protect the heart that was Lance’s, after all.
And when he’d looked up to find that sentries had filled the hallways both sides of him, he’d almost dropped his bayard. They must have been standing, waiting, around the corners too, because no matter how many of them he cut down, new ones kept stepping up.
Even Keith, oh-so reckless Keith, had known that he’d been fighting a battle he couldn’t have won.
A shot he hadn’t managed to dodge – not completely – had sent him crashing into a small, tight space with a cry. He’d had approximately two and a half seconds to glance around himself and realise that he’d stumbled into an escape pod before he’d heard the sound of a weapon being powered up in the hallway.
Staring down the barrel of a blaster wasn’t something he’d ever expected to be doing.
He’d panicked.
He’d pressed the pods eject button, and the shot had hit the metal of the pod’s hatch as it closed- not the glass, thankfully.
Why a part of the pod even consisted of glass was far beyond Keith’s imagination.
The pod had, unsurprisingly but unfortunately, shot away from the spaceship, and the pod spun and spun and spun, turning Keith’s view of the ship over and over and over again. The very second the ship had left his sight, leaving him alone in his tiny pod, lost in the endless depths of outer space, he’d regretted having pushed the button. He was now sure that he would have been able to get out of the situation some other way, without ejecting himself into nothing without a chance of getting back on his own.
At first, Keith had been positive that his team would find him and bring him back to the castle.
After some time, he hadn’t been so sure anymore.
The worst thing was that he wasn’t even aware of how much time had passed. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours, but he had no way of knowing. It had almost driven him insane.
He’d closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, thinking of strong hands holding him safe and tight, of being wrapped in soft blankets and warm arms in the early hours of the evening; he’d calmed down then, his heart rate slowing until he could think properly again.
A whimper had made its way out of him when the pod had rocked as it entered a planet’s atmosphere, soaring towards the planet’s surface, lighting up brilliantly yellow and orange and red, streaking across the pitch-black night sky like an angel set ablaze.
And- Keith was no religious man.
But he’d prayed then.
He’d prayed that Lance and the rest of his team would be fine; he’d prayed that he’d die a quick death once he crashed on the planet’s surface; he’d prayed that his friends wouldn’t see his remains, because he knew how dead bodies could haunt people.
But he hadn’t died, not yet.
He’d plunged into an ocean of which he could only guess how enormous it was, and he’d sunk and sunk and sunk.
And Keith’s still sinking, in his tiny, tiny pod, with its frighteningly small oxygen supply.
At least he thinks he’s sinking.
He can’t be sure.
The water is dark, and all he sees outside the glass panels is water, so dark he wonders if it’s clear at all, if it would let light shine through, if this half of the planet were turned towards the nearest star. He wouldn’t be surprised if the water were a murky blue, destined to swallow all light.
Keith no longer knows which way is up, so even if he could steer the pod in any way, he’d be lost.
He gives in, and lets tears run down his cheeks, even if he’s wasting water that way. Besides, he’d die of asphyxiation far before he’d die of lack of fluids. All he can do is keep himself from full-on sobbing.
Keith’s not sure when he started feeling dizzy.
He knows the reason he’s feeling dizzy is because he’s no longer getting enough oxygen.
But he doesn’t know what to do.
So he lets himself fall when his body tilts to the side.
And he sleeps.
When Keith wakes, he’s in a healing pod.
Murky memories of two huge yellow, glowing eyes and a blue jaw opening wide, engulfing the small pod, swim in his memory, as do a concerned voice, soft lips pressed to his temple, and the cold of the chest-piece of the armour his head had leaned against for an indefinite amount of time.
But Keith’s eyes are closed.
And with mounting horror, Keith realises that people in healing pods aren’t actually unconscious, they’re just immobile. His chest constricts in the way it does when he retches, but he’s not even allowed that privilege. His heart beats against his ribcage, demanding to be let free, and he wishes his bones would break so the pain would stop.
Usually, when Keith closes his eyes, what he sees is red and grey, some colour he’d detest if he saw it somewhere else.
Now, his eyes are closed, and all he sees is blue.
Blue.
Blue like the ocean. Blue like ink. Blue like the sky. Blue like the veins under his skin. Blue like-
Lance’s voice.
It’s muffled, but Keith would always, anywhere, recognize Lance’s voice. So many times, this voice has driven him insane, has made him crave things only Lance could give him.
And so many times, this voice has stitched him back together after he’s torn himself apart. Of course, Keith hasn’t been sown up the same way he’d been before, but he’s glad about that. He adores Lance for cording little parts of himself into Keith; he’s so, so relieved and grateful that Lance helped him grow away from the angry, aggressive desert boy he used to be.
A different voice, softer and higher than Lance’s, replies, and Keith’s still trying to figure out who it is when the healing pod beeps, signalling that he’ll be let out any moment now. Steps rush close to Keith, stopping just outside the pod, and Keith hopes that whoever it is will catch him once he inevitably stumbles out of the pod.
The pod’s glass front disappears, as does the bitingly cold gas that filled the inside up until now, and Keith’s falling forward before he can even open his eyes properly. As he’d hoped, a pair of arms wrap around him, pressing him against a broad chest before he can fall to the floor.
It’s only now that Keith realises how cold his body has become, and he presses against the body in front of him, needing to get rid of the cold that’s settled into everywhere in his body except his heart.
“Keith, you’re freezing”, a surprised voice claims, and Keith glances up to look Lance in the eye.
“Yeah, no shit”, he whispers hoarsely before he lets his head fall against Lance’s shoulder, reaching up with numb, stiff fingers to push Lance’s jacket open; he worms his cold hands under and holds onto Lance’s torso, relishing in the warmth that had accumulated under his jacket. Lance makes a pitying noise –Keith’s sure he must look quite pitiful, searching for warmth under someone else’s jacket and clinging to that person– and pulls his jacket around Keith as far as it will go, resting his head on top of Keith’s.
And Keith might be pressed skin-to-skin with Lance regularly, but he still craves physical touch enough for it to hurt sometimes, so he holds still, because he knows that he needs this.
“I’ll go get a blanket”, someone says from the side, but Keith doesn’t want to dislodge Lance’s head, so he doesn’t turn to look.
“Thanks, Allura”, Lance replies, and Keith buries his face in Lance’s chest. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to let go of Lance, even if he gets a blanket and therefore wouldn’t have a need for Lance as a source of warmth anymore. He refuses to let go again.
He needs to know that he’s not lost anymore.
That he’s no longer drifting in space, alone.
Keith thinks Allura must’ve left the room, because there’s the sound of the doors sliding shut, and then Lance’s arms tighten around him.
“Oh, my Darling”, Lance whispers, clinging to Keith now as much as Keith does to him, “I was so worried about you. We-we thought you were dead when we couldn’t find you on the ship.” Lance pulls his head back a bit despite the desperate way Keith whimpers; he kisses the top of Keith’s head, and his chest hurts when Keith has to close his eyes. He knows that Keith usually closes his eyes when he tries to hide his tears, and he has a feeling that that’s what’s happening now.
“But…Pidge needed to know what actually happened. I think it’s because she couldn’t bear not to know what happened to you- not after she was left in the dark with what happened with her dad and Matt. She hacked into the system and looked at the video footage.”
Keith opens his eyes hesitantly when he hears Lance’s shaky breath.
“It’s only because of her that we went after the pod and even found you”, Lance admits quietly, and Keith almost cries.
Lance looks so, so hurt.
Keith’s heart feels like it’s going to rip into a million little pieces, destined to be lost in space, just like he’d been lost not so long ago.
“It’s alright”, Keith croaks, his voice rough from the cold.
But Lance shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut and lips pressed into a thin line.
“If it weren’t for Pidge, we wouldn’t have gone after you”, he insists. Lance’s voice breaks, and Keith thinks Lance wants to scream.
If it weren’t for Pidge, Keith would be dead.
“It’s alright, really”, Keith tries again, less sure this time. He’s under no illusion; there are lots of times where he could have died already, and there are lots of times in the future where he might die.
Lance looks down at Keith, and Keith’s suddenly unsure if Lance is glaring at him.
Lance wouldn’t glare at him, would he?
“You don’t understand”, Lance says, his voice shaking with both anger and fear, “I almost lost you! And-and what’s worse than that, I almost lost you simply because you weren’t where we expected you to be!”
Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at Lance, and he subconsciously leans back a small bit to look up at Lance properly.
Lance’s voice isn’t the only thing that shakes, now, and Keith allows his Galra instincts to take over, letting out a comforting croon as he rubs Lance’s back. Lance crumples around him, clutching at the thin white medical suit Keith is wearing. Clutches at Keith like he’s going to disappear without warning.
“I almost lost you”, he whispers, like it still hasn’t fully settled in. Keith’s heart tears, and he knows that Lance’s has too, so he can’t wait for Lance to get up and stitch their hearts back together.
“Bold of you to assume I’d ever let you lose me”, he replies quietly, forcing himself to give Lance a feeble smile.
Lance laughs weakly, and Keith’s glad he said something, even if he didn’t know if it would help.
The doors open, and both of them turn their heads just in time to see their friends sprinting towards them.
They’re almost knocked to the ground when the others barrel into them, several pairs of arms wrapping around Keith and Lance.
“How are you?”, Shiro asks Keith over Lance’s shoulder, obviously concerned.
“I’m- okay, I guess.”
Keith’s throat tightens up a bit- he might have almost died, but he’s okay. He has to be.
Pidge, who’s managed to worm her way between Keith and Lance, to the disdain of both of them, frowns. “No, really, Keith. How are you?”
Keith glances down at her, and he feels tears well up once again; he’s not sure why, but he has to break eye contact. His eyes are burning. “I’m okay”, he whispers again, but the alarmed noises the others make tell him that they don’t believe him.
“I’m okay.”
The group hug tightens, and Keith can’t hold back his sobs now.
“I’m okay.”
Keith’s not sure whose hand is rubbing his back, and whose is stroking his hair, and who it is who wrestles the blanket between him and the others to pull it around his shaking shoulders, but he takes comfort in each tiny little touch.
“You don’t have to be okay, you know?”
Keith looks up at Lance through his tears, and even though his vision is blurry, he can see that Lance’s eyes are glassy. He gives Lance a hesitant, choppy nod, and even though all he did was agree that maybe, it was okay not to be okay, he feels so, so much better.
Lance doensn’t smile, but he appears relieved that Keith seems to understand that he doesn’t always need to be strong and steadfast.
Keith leans his head against the nearest shoulder, and lets himself cry.
And he lets his friends take care of him.
(And he thinks he’s needed this for a long time coming.)