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Chasing Stars and Memories

Summary:

It was like being back in the Quantum Abyss and being shown a vision of the future he had wanted for so long. Except this was not his future, and he knew, now, it could never be.

This was the future he could have had – if only he was not himself.

 

 
Or, Lance and Keith fall through a rift in space and end up in an alternate reality – and in searching for a way home, they discover they may lose far more than they’re willing to give up.

Notes:

Hello and welcome!

I've been working on this fic for a while, and I hope you enjoy it!

As a preemptive head's up, this fic will contain some parts that may be emotionally heavy or triggering. I will put warnings on those chapters when I post them – but just be prepared.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: RIFT

Chapter Text

 

CHAPTER ONE

RIFT


Lance POV

 

 

“I knew it.”

When Keith didn’t even bother slowing his pace or turning around to grace him with so much as a glare, Lance raised his voice, irritated at being ignored on top of everything else. “I knew something was going to happen. I had a bad feeling all morning.”

Keith’s only response was to let out an irritated grunt as he slashed out with his hand at a low hanging branch.

“It was like my brain was trying to tell me Hey, Lance, today is gonna be the worst fucking day ever.” He ducked away as the branch swung back toward him.

“Well too bad your brain wasn’t specific on the details about what was going to make this day so bad, or we could have avoided this.”

Lance glared at the back of Keith’s head. “I’m sorry. Is that blame I hear in your voice, Kogane? Because I never asked you to follow me.”

That finally made Keith pause. He drew in a long breath before letting it out on a sigh, and turned around to face his teammate.

Lance clenched his jaw and braced himself for an argument, but when Keith spoke he only sounded tired.

“Look. It was a freak accident. None of us saw the wormhole – or whatever that was – until it was too late.” He hesitated for a second before reaching out and placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I’m just frustrated. But we’re both okay, and we’re gonna get out of this mess like I promised.”

 

 

Lance remembered the day Keith had reunited with the team – taller, broader, and more level headed. So many things had happened in such dizzyingly quick sequence, it had all blurred into a mess of danger and mayhem. All except one thing. All except one moment his mind retained with vivid clarity, as if all those other things couldn’t even compare in importance to the one event that day that seemed to overshadow all else:

 

Hey everyone. Keith’s back!

 

He remembered where he stood, what he said, how he felt – and because that one moment had stuck in his mind, he often caught himself watching Keith in the days and weeks that followed when he should have been paying attention to other things.

It was because of his acute attentiveness that he had begun to really take notice of how much Keith had changed since he had left to join the Blade. It gave Lance an uneasy feeling – a dull ache that settled into the pit of his stomach – because it felt like Keith had changed too much too quickly for being gone for such a short period of time.

More than anything, he wanted to ask about it. He wanted to talk about it. He wanted to know what had happened to Keith since he walked away from them, and he wanted to tell Keith what he had gone through in the interim. He wanted to talk about how things used to be; he wanted to talk about how different things were, now.

But that was not a conversation to be had over comms during a battle or a rescue mission. It was not a conversation he wanted to have with others listening in. And the one time they’d actually had a quiet moment alone on top of the Black Lion on their last night on Earth, the moment had been wrong.

There had been something bittersweet in the sound of Keith’s voice. There had been a sad sort of finality in his eyes. There had been a soft melancholy in the slump of his shoulders as he smiled at Lance and instructed Kosmo to take him back down to ground level so he could go on the date he had always dreamed of.

It had all been wrong, because there was something about the Keith that had returned to them that wasn’t the Keith he remembered.

It made the dull ache in his chest deepen. It made him feel like he had missed something important; something that flitted away like a shadow every time he turned his head and tried to see it.

It made moments like this particularly difficult. Moments when Keith’s voice got soft and serious, and his eyes held Lance’s with some unnamed expression that made it difficult to breathe.

 

It made Lance’s fight or flight instincts kick in, and his default response take over.

 

“Black Paladin Keith,” he teased, letting a smirk pull at one corner of his mouth as he jabbed a finger against Keith’s sternum. “Look at you being all…leader-y. You gonna give me some rousing Shiro-inspired speech about our duty to the universe and how we just need to be patient and focus on the task at hand?”

That got him the dark glower he was used to, and Keith whipped around, stalking forward once again. “Just shut up, Lance.”

“Aw, man. I was being complimentary!” Lance hurried after him, wincing a little on his sore ankle. “Don’t be mad.”

 

***

 

It had happened out of nowhere.

They had been heading back to rendezvous with the Atlas after a successful rescue of a Puigan transport vessel. Lance had been excitedly chatting away to Hunk over the comms about exactly how many pirates he had taken out with his awesome and definitely-better-than-Keith combat skills, when Red’s cockpit had been flooded by a harsh, blinding light.

Lance only had enough time to gasp “What?” before he was being pulled toward the swirling vortex that had blinked into existence directly in front of his lion. His hands clutched the controls, but he could feel how useless even the power of Red was against this gravitational pull.

Keith’s voice shouting his name over their comms was the last thing he heard before his vision had gone sparkling white as he was dragged into oblivion.

 

 

The shifting, dappled light filtering before Lance’s eyes as he regained consciousness reminded him of being underwater. It reminded him of lazy days spent outside, surrounded by laughter and sunlight; sand between his toes and salt drying in his hair. Days that faded into nights of soft guitar music and crackling fires. Someone’s arm around his shoulders; a sense of calm and comfort enveloping him like a warm blanket.

The memories washed over him, dragging at his heart like a deep and agonizing riptide.

He forced himself to focus on his breathing – in and out, in and out, like the steady surge of a calm sea – until the longing faded back into the usual dull ache in his chest. He lay there, adjusting to reality, until his eyes could focus on what actually lay before him instead of all the memories that lay behind.

However, as his focus and his senses returned, comprehension seemed to lag. Because it made no sense that he was lying on his back in his jeans and baseball t-shirt, staring up at a canopy of gently swaying leaves.

Dread and panic reached out toward him with searching fingers as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, eyes sweeping the surrounding area – and immediately landing on a figure sprawled on his side several feet away.

The panic took hold – curling around his heart and squeezing – and he was scrambling to his feet, wincing as he put weight on his right ankle. The pain wasn’t enough to hinder him, though, as he hurried over to where Keith lay – his anxious mind taking an unhelpful note that his friend didn’t have his paladin armor either, but wore black pants and a t-shirt.

Lance dropped to his knees beside Keith and rolled him gently onto his back – relieved to hear him let out a groan that sounded less severe injury and more five more minutes, mom. His anxiety didn’t stay at bay for long, however, as Lance’s attention was caught by a tear in Keith’s shirt over his abdomen and a splotch of red peaking through.

Keith’s eyes blinked open and he groaned again, his face scrunching up as he pushing himself up to a kneeling position. One hand traveled to his side absentmindedly.

Lance’s own hands hovered close by in case any movement caused Keith to suddenly collapse. “H-hey, man, be careful, okay? You’re bleeding –“

Keith’s fingers came away clean as he raised his hand to examine it, which was only more concerning to Lance. Because that meant they’d been out here – wherever here was – long enough for the blood to dry.

Keith’s eyes met his, squinting in the dappled light. “You okay?” When Lance barely nodded, Keith’s eyes narrowed. “Lance.”

“My ankle hurts. I don’t know. It’s not terrible. I think we have more pressing matters right now!” The words stumbled out all on one breath.

It was only then Keith’s brain seemed to catch up to their situation. His mouth pulled down at the corners as his gaze traveled over Lance’s body. “Why are you wearing…” He broke off, turning to take in the tall trees and low hanging branches. “What the fuck?” He whispered.

“Right? Okay, I’m not crazy, am I?” Lance couldn’t stop his hand from shooting out and gripping Keith’s arm. He needed something to ground him; he needed to touch something familiar. “You remember Voltron and the lions, right? This isn’t some fucking Wizard of Oz shit, is it? There’s no place like h –”

“Congratulations,” Keith murmured, almost to himself. “You finally referenced a movie I’ve seen.”

“Keith, come on!”

“Yes, I remember.” He turned back to Lance in time to stop the impending freak-out. “No, it wasn’t all some coma dream. It can’t have been if we both remember it, right?” He glanced up toward the sky, still squinting. “It must have been that…whatever that was. That…space anomaly.”

“Great.” Lance’s sarcasm sprung to life, brought on by the nervous energy that had currently replaced the blood in his veins. “’Space anomaly,’” he quoted drily. “That’s super helpful, man. Might as well just say it must have been that thing that happened. Where’s Pidge when you need her? I bet she’d know what’s going on.”

“Relax. I’m sure they’re trying to figure out what happened right now, and once they do, they’ll come looking for us.” Keith hadn’t moved to free his arm from Lance’s hold. “And in the meantime, we have each other and whatever comes our way, we can figure it out. I know you’re a lot smarter than you let people see, most of the time.”

The unexpected compliment caught Lance so off guard, his grip on Keith’s arm went slack.

He went so long without a response, Keith shifted nervously beside him. “Do I…need to check you for head injuries?”

Shaking off his temporary stupor, Lance ran a hand down the length of his face, feeling strangely warm. “No. No, my head feels normal. But –“ he batted one hand toward Keith. “Let me check you. I can see the blood through your shirt, man, and I wanna make sure you’re not hiding some grievous injury from me.”

It was Keith’s turn to hesitate, now, and the longer he did, the more Lance’s eyes narrowed.

“Seriously, tough guy?” he finally snapped. “There’s no way in hell you’re gonna leave me here all alone to fend for myself and take care of your unconscious ass if you pass out from blood loss.”

Keith’s expression softened as he relented, shifting over until he knelt directly before Lance, their knees barely brushing. He let the tiniest of smirks play across his lips for a moment before it disappeared. “I’m fine, and I’m perfectly capable of checking my own injury,” he said. “But if you’re so impatient to see me shirtless –“

Lance snorted, leaning in and taking the hem of Keith’s shirt in his fingers. “First of all, like 93% of your shirt is staying on. And second of all, I’ll get all up in your business if it means you’re not gonna die and leave me alone out here.”

For a second, both of them stiffened, then Keith was nudging Lance’s shoulder, pushing him back up to eye level.

“Hey. Do you still trust me?”

It was just the proximity that made it difficult to concentrate, Lance assured himself. It had absolutely nothing to do with the intensity in Keith’s eyes. “Y…yeah?”

“I promise I’ll get you home, okay? No matter how annoyed you get with me, I won’t leave you alone, here. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back.”

If anyone had asked Lance the one thing he was least prepared for in life, he could have easily answered that it was the rare moments when this particular side of Keith decided to show itself.

This strange mix of vehemence and gentleness that made Lance’s heartbeat skitter away like a frightened animal. The contradictory combination of strength and softness in his eyes and his voice that Lance had encountered before – surrounded by soft purple light, or the fathomless darkness of space, or the warm glow of a sunset –

There was something different about it, now, however; something hidden beneath the surface of Keith’s words. Something dark and forlorn and wrong, that Lance couldn’t quite put his finger on, like a shadow constantly flitting out of sight when he turned his head to look.

Something that made words spill from his mouth, hushed and urgent after holding them back for so long. “What happened to you, Keith?”

For a second, that intense gaze flickered – flames darting away from a gust of wind – but then Keith’s eyes were softening, lifting toward his hairline before slowly rolling back down to meet with Lance’s again.

“It’s literally just a scratch. But if you really need to check for yourself, then –“ He motioned toward his side, pulling up the hem of his shirt a couple inches.

And Lance let it go, feeling for the first time, that he had taken a shot and missed.

 

They moved on, each briefly checking the other’s injuries and confirming both were nothing serious. Their best course of action, they decided, would be to find either shelter and water, or – best case scenario – some form of civilization where they might be able to get in contact with the team.

So they moved away from the patch of sun-dappled grass and fallen leaves where they both had woken up, and Lance tried not to dwell on the strange emptiness he felt slowly growing inside his chest.

 

 

***

 

 

It did not take long for Lance to reach the conclusion that the forest they were currently trudging through was the hottest, most humid place he’d ever been. A fact he made sure Keith was also aware of in great detail.

“I’m from Cuba!” The collar of his shirt was soaked with sweat, and he was trying his best to avoid having any part of his body touch any other part, while attempting to maintain the pace Keith had set. “I grew up there until my dad had to move for work, and even then, we went back during summer vacations. I can take a bit of heat, believe me. So when I say this is ridiculous, I mean I think this place is literally hell!”

Keith threw a hand up in the air. “And I grew up in Texas and the Arizona desert.” He sounded exasperated as only a person dealing with this level of discomfort could. “I get it. It’s hot. But unless you think you can complain away the humidity, then can you please knock it off?”

“I can’t control the climate, but I can complain to you until you realize I’m a human being who needs a break, oh wise and powerful leader.” Lance took a couple hurried steps, catching up to Keith and grabbing him by the shoulder. “Seriously, man. Just for a minute? We’ve been walking for like…five years.”

Keith seemed to weigh their options for a moment, his eyes scanning the surrounding trees. Then he gave a begrudging nod. “Fine. But just for a couple minutes.”

Before the confirmation was even out of Keith’s mouth, Lance had found the nearest fallen tree and all but collapsed onto it with a drawn out groan of exhaustion and relief.

Once he settled, and the ache in his legs had eased up, he glanced up to see Keith watching him from the exact place he had been standing.

Lance rolled his eyes and patted the log beside him. “Don’t be afraid,” he drawled, sarcasm as thick as the sweat he felt running down his spine. “Join me on my throne of luxury and comfort.”

Keith’s eyebrows pulled upwards in a slightly sheepish expression. “Um…if I sit down I actually don’t know if I’ll get up again. An object in motion, and all that.”

Lance sat up a little straighter, narrowing his eyes. “Wait. Are you – are you saying you’re…tired?” A slow grin began to stretch across his face as he leaned back. “The great and powerful Keith Kogane, fearless leader of Voltron and savior of the universe –“

“Lance –“

“– is actually revealing that he might, in fact, experience human weaknesses like fatigue?”

Keith shot him a feeble glare. “You know what? Since you chose to make fun of me for it, I am going to sit down.” He took a few steps over toward Lance. “I’m going to sit down and immediately fall asleep, and then you’re going to have to carry me the rest of the way like the good right hand man you are.”

Lance was still grinning. “You’re saying that like I can’t carry you.” He pointed a finger up at Keith’s face. “You missed a lot of stuff while you were off playing Blade hero. I got along just fine without you.”

It had, of course, been meant as a joke, but the minute the words left his mouth, he knew how wrong they were.

That feeling was confirmed as Keith’s expression immediately drained of all emotion. He teetered in place for a moment before taking a step backwards and giving a quick nod. “I know that,” was all he said before turning away from Lance and stepping over to a nearby tree, leaning back against the trunk and folding his arms.

Any exhaustion Lance had felt suddenly seemed less important, and he was on his feet, one hand stretching out. “I didn’t mean it like –“ He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say, only that he felt he had to fix whatever had been screwed up. “We’re all glad you’re back, Keith. You know that, right?”

Keith’s shoulders hitched up in a shrug. “Sure, Lance. I was gone for a while, though. I didn’t expect everything to just go back to the way things were. I know it was out of necessity, too, but I’m still surprised Black accepted me so quickly after two years. And I know you all –“

“Wait. What do you mean two years?”

The sharp edge to Lance’s voice must have caught Keith’s attention enough to finally make him glance up. “That’s how long I was gone. I know days can start to blur out here, but –“

“Um, no? You left for the Blade, and then six months later you showed up with your mom and your wolf and Romelle.” Lance’s voice rose. “Where’d you get two years from?”

Keith pushed away from the tree and faced him, the corners of his mouth pulling down into a deep frown. “I was stuck on that space whale traveling through the Quantum Abyss for two years, Lance. I kept track of every single day because it was one of the things I needed to do to survive!”

Lance was glaring at him, now – the dull ache in his chest flaring into something bitter and fierce. “And I know it was six months because I also kept track! Six months was bad enough – you think we would have been fine for two years without you?”

“You just told me you were fine a second ago!” Keith snapped. “I made sure you were all going to be fine before I left. Six months or two years, or… Look, it wouldn’t have mattered because –“

“Wait.” The ache was spreading out, traveling down Lance’s arm and into his fingertips, making them curl tightly into fists. “Ok, correct me if I’m wrong, but it almost sounds like you weren’t planning on coming back at all.”

Keith opened his mouth to reply, but then changed his mind – his jaw clamping shut and his lips pressing together in a tight, stubborn line. “We’re not doing this,” was all he said, pushing himself away from the tree. “We should keep moving. We don’t know how much daylight we have left.”

Thoughts of the weariness in his legs, or the sweltering heat of the forest, or even thoughts of how they were going to get out of this mess faded into the background of Lance’s mind as they continued their grueling trek through the trees and underbrush.

In the absence of his immediate issues, his mind was assaulted by the hushed, painful thoughts he was used to suppressing every time they tried to surface.

 

Why did you leave us in the first place?

Did you hate being with us that much?

Were we not good enough? Was I not good enough?

 

And above all, the one thought that refused to stay hidden, no matter how many times he tried to fend it off:

 

Are you going to leave again?

 

 

 

Lance was so focused on his inner turmoil, he wasn’t paying attention to anything else. He didn’t know how long they walked. He didn’t know where they were heading.

So he almost yelped in surprise when Keith grabbed him out of nowhere, yanking him off balance. Keith must have anticipated any startled noise he’d make, however, because one hand was clamping firmly over Lance’s mouth as he dragged him down so they were crouched low to the ground, hidden in the space between a tree trunk and the leaves of a large, fern-like plant.

Despite whatever time they had spent apart, their battle camaraderie had remained, ingrained in them like a childhood habit. In the midst of chaos and danger, Lance knew Keith in a way he’d never known another person. He knew his thought process, and how to anticipate his decisions. And he knew, from the swiftness of Keith’s actions now, and the slightly accelerated pounding of his heart where Lance’s back pressed against his chest, that there was something out there Keith perceived to be a potential threat.

As the slight tremors of approaching footsteps radiated up through the soles of Lance’s sneakers, he placed a firm hand on Keith’s bent knee to let him know they were on the same page. Keith’s hand lingered over his mouth for a moment longer, before it slipped down to find a place on Lance’s shoulder.

The two of them ducked even further into the shelter of the undergrowth as the footsteps drew closer. Lance instinctually pressed back against Keith, barely daring to breathe, as a small group marched by their hiding spot. They had the appearance of mercenaries or guerilla soldiers – their uniforms pieced together and worn, and their weapons mismatching, as though they were using whatever they could get their hands on. Strangest of all, though, was the fact that every one of them appeared to be fully human, from what little Lance could observe past the leaves obscuring his view.

As the group passed by without incident, and the soft snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves underfoot began to fade, the tension began to bleed from Lance’s shoulders. He had just been about to turn around and look at Keith when the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking somewhere behind their heads made his adrenaline spike.

“Let him go,” commanded a voice, low and threatening. “I won’t ask again.”

Lance only realized, as Keith’s arm tightened around him reflexively, that the entire time they’d been crouching there, that arm had been wrapped snuggly around his waist in a protective hold.

“Let him go.” The voice came again, each word falling with potent intent.

Lance felt cold and naked as Keith’s arms slid away to raise above his head.

“What do you want?” Keith kept his voice low.

They were still pressed so closely together, Lance felt the small, abrupt shock that radiated through Keith’s body before his limbs dropped and he slumped onto his side.

Lance was already twisting – reaching for him, terrified of what he’d find –

“What are you doing out here? You’re not on patrol until tomorrow.”

A hand caught Lance’s wrist just as his fingers grazed Keith’s shoulder. He struggled against the stranger’s grip, his mind hyper-focused on his friend until he could confirm the smallest shift in the fabric of Keith’s shirt that meant he was still breathing.

“What did you do to him?” Lance hissed.

“Tranquilizer.” Lance’s captor gave his arm a shake. “So let’s get out of here while he’s still out. Who is this anyway? Is he Galra? How’d he find you?”

Tranquilizer.

Not bullet.

Which meant Keith was only unconscious, and Lance could stop panicking and focus on getting them both away from whoever this was.

The face was definitely human, he noted as he raised cold eyes to the stranger. Short dreadlocks peeked out from behind a bandana and light brown eyes met Lance’s from a face that did not appear to be much older than his own.

But the minute Lance raised his head, those eyes were widening, and before he could even open his mouth to speak, the gun in the man’s hand was raised.

Lance flinched as the sharp point of a tranquilizer dart embedded itself in his shoulder. He didn’t even have enough time to utter a sound before the world was swimming, and his mind washed away into darkness.

 

 

 

Chapter 2: REALITY

Summary:

Prepare for trouble. Make it double.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

REALITY

 

Keith POV

 

 

 

The moment Keith’s eyes opened, he wished he could just shut them again and sink back into blissful unconsciousness.

It was the second time in less than 24 hours he had been knocked out – and waking up in the forest had been a thousand times better. In the forest, the grass had been soft and cool, the breeze had been gentle, and even the scratch on his side had been no more than a slight inconvenient sting. In the forest, Lance had been there, watching him with wide, worried eyes, his hands hovering close by and making Keith feel cared for, if only for a moment.

He would have given anything to be back there, now, because instead of soft grass and Lance’s eyes, consciousness brought with it a pounding head, aching limbs, and a close, stifling darkness. It took one shift of his sore body to discover his back had been propped against a sturdy pole, his arms pulled behind it and bound together at the wrists.

He gave an experimental tug on his bindings, just to test –

 

“Yeah, you’re not going anywhere.”

 

Keith started as a voice sounded from somewhere nearby – only to immediately sagged against the pole in relief. “Lance.” The name left his mouth like a sigh. “Are you okay?”

When the only response he got was silence, Keith peered into the shadows. He wished, not for the first time, that he was able to control his latent Galra attributes in order to heighten his senses on command. Unfortunately they seemed to have a mind of their own, and only appeared at random, as far as he could tell.

The longer he looked, however, the more his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and he caught movement off to his left as a figure shifted positions.

“Lance?” He asked again. “Are you hurt?”

There was a brief pause, before he heard the sound of shoes crunching on packed earth as the figure moved toward him. “Nope. Can’t do it. This is too fucking weird.”

There was a click, and light flooded the ground around Keith’s feet. He squinted into the sudden brightness, letting his eyes readjust.

“What’s weird? Why am I tied up?”

Keith heard an exasperated sigh, and then Lance stepped into the circle of light cast by the lantern gently swinging from the ceiling of what appeared to be a tent. He crouched down before Keith, elbows resting on his knees.

 

“You’re tied up,” Lance said, one eyebrow raised. “Because who the fuck are you?”

 

Any questions that had been forming in Keith’s mind vanished as his eyes took in the person before him.

The person who had Lance’s voice.

The person who had Lance’s face and eyes and hands.

The person who wore the exact same guarded expression as Lance always did when his instincts were telling him something was off.

 

The person who was Lance.

 

 

 

But not his Lance.

 

 

 

This Lance looked older and more weathered; his jaw a little stronger, his shoulders a little broader.

This Lance’s hair was shaved down on one side of his head, the rest of it flopping over toward his opposite ear. This Lance had stubble along his jaw – which Keith was desperately trying not to stare at. An unfamiliar scar cut through this Lance’s left eyebrow, curving up toward his hairline. He wore similar clothes to the people they’d encountered in the forest – a military style vest over a teeshirt that was tucked into cargo pants.

But it was not these differences that made Keith know with such unwavering certainty that he was not looking at the person he had known since they were teenagers. Because even when they had just been detached classmates, even in the beginning when they hadn’t gotten along, Lance had never looked at him the way this person was looking at him, now.

It was almost too much to see Lance’s familiar blue eyes narrowed at him with an expression of such obvious mistrust and hostility.

 

 

Keith whispered his name, because he had a sinking feeling he knew what this might be – and all he could do was plead to the universe that it was not the case.

Not again.

 

“Yup. That’s my name.” Not-Lance pursed his lips. “But I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you thought I was that freaky clone of my younger self in the other tent.”

Keith’s head whipped in the direction Not-Lance had gestured, as if he could see through both darkness and tent walls. “That’s my – yeah, I thought – Is he okay?”

“Nope. Uh uh, buddy. You’re talking to me, now. Focus up, mullet-head.” Not-Lance tapped Keith’s boot. “Were you sent by the Galra? Do they have some kind of…cloning technology, now? Did they send you here to infiltrate us?” He leaned forward, scowling. “And most importantly, if that is the case, why did they get you so wrong?”

“The Galra are here?” Keith croaked, trying to make sense of the slew of questions; trying to push back the visions rising to the surface at the mention of cloning technology. Trying to force the memories away – his face burning, his heart breaking, another pair of familiar eyes looking at him like he was the enemy, a choice neither of them had ever spoken about –

“Well, yeah. Who do you think is the reason we’re out here risking our lives every day? Who do you think is the reason I haven’t seen my family in five years?”

“We’re fighting them, too,” Keith leaned forward, as far as his restraints would allow. “I don’t know what’s going on here or why you look like that, but we have a common enemy. What – are you rebels? Did you get stranded on this planet? Because if I can figure out how to contact my team, we can get the Lions –“

Not-Lance waved a hand in his face. “Whoa, wait – team? There are more of you out there?”

“I mean…somewhere? But we don’t know where we are, so I couldn’t tell you where they are, even if I wanted to.” The throbbing in Keith’s head was making it difficult to think. “Which, actually, you know what? I don’t. I’m not telling you anything else until I know Lance is okay. My Lance. Because it’s more likely you’re a clone. They did it to Shiro, and I had to – I don’t – I can’t…not with Lance.”

Not-Lance pulled back abruptly. “Shiro?” For the first time, his voice sounded curious rather than accusatory. “That wouldn’t be Takashi Shirogane by any chance?”

 

The effect those words had on Keith was immediate and palpable.

He felt as if he had been underwater from the instant he opened his eyes, and this was the moment he was finally able to break through the water’s surface and draw in a lung-full of air.

 

It was the feeling that had driven him to search for Shiro, no matter how many times he had disappeared or been presumed dead. The same feeling that had driven him to fight so hard to get through to him, no matter how many awful, hurtful things the clone had said; no matter how many times that Galran arm had swung at him with the intention to kill.

 

Shiro knew what to do in the situations that made Keith feel helpless.

Shiro knew what to say to make everyone around him feel safe.

Shiro knew when it was better to talk rather than fight.

 

Shiro took some of the crushing burden of leadership off of Keith’s shoulders and put it onto his own.

 

If Shiro was here, it wasn’t all on Keith.

 

 

It wasn’t all on him to make every tough decision. It wasn’t all on him to figure out where they actually were, and what methods they could use to get back to the team.

If Shiro was here, the most vital and fragile thing in the universe – Lance’s life – hadn’t been thrust into Keith’s hands by some cruel and indifferent force that left him with a wave and a doubtful smirk, saying This is your responsibility, now. Better not fuck it up.

 

 

Keith had always been able to look out for himself. He had never had a problem making quick decisions or tough calls.

Except being the leader of a team like Voltron was about everyone else surviving. It was about having to make decisions based on what everyone else could do. It was about trying to unlearn the way he had operated for nearly two decades of his life – because there was a colossal difference between making a decision that affected only himself, and one that could potentially lead the people he cared about into danger or harm.

 

 

Leadership had never felt right to Keith.

He knew that sometimes he said the correct things at the correct times. Sometimes he made the right calls. Sometimes he even caught himself feeling – if only for a moment – that he could be someone the team could rely on and trust.

But more often than not, he saw his failures and shortcomings in the eyes of his teammates. He heard his own doubt in himself reflected back in the tone of their voices.

And even when they hid it well, he saw it all in his own face every time he looked in the mirror.

Leadership, to Keith, was like a constant, looming presence standing at his back, both hands gripping him by the shoulders and trying to push him to the ground as he fought to remain standing.

 

But to Shiro, leadership had come as naturally as breathing.

Shiro knew how to handle whatever situations were thrown his way.

Shiro had been there to step up in the moments when Keith hesitated, or when he tried to go forward with a poorly conceived plan.

Shiro had been there to take control in the moments when Keith felt lost and overwhelmed.

 

Shiro had been there, in moments exactly like this one, when Keith needed his brother.

So if Shiro was here –

 

 

“Yes – yeah, Takashi Shirogane. If he’s here, I’m sure he can explain what’s happening!”

Not-Lance studied him for a long moment, one skeptical eyebrow raised. Then he shook his head. “No. Nope. This is just too… I’ll be right back. You just…sit tight.” He pushed himself to his feet and hurried away.

Daylight flashed across the floor, illuminating crates and shelves lining the tent walls for a split second before Keith was enveloped in the dim light from the gently swinging lantern once again.

 

 

 

 

When the tent flap opened several minutes later, Keith kept his head bowed. He felt the tremors in the ground as footsteps approached, but he hung onto this miniscule speck of solitude behind his eyelids, away from the worries and responsibilities and utter confusion that awaited him as soon as he opened his eyes and faced reality.

 

“Hey, man, wake up.”

 

It was an automatic reaction – responding to the sound of Lance’s voice before he realized it probably wasn’t the Lance he was hoping for. And by the time he remembered, he was already raising his head.

But as Keith’s eyes opened, the person crouching in front of him was neither the Lance he was hoping to see, nor the strange, older version he had spoken to before.

Keith jolted away from the hand reaching out toward his face, digging his heels into the dirt and pressing his back against the pole – trapped by his bindings and feeling like he had just been punched in the chest.

The woman kneeling before him narrowed her eyes before casting a quick glance over her shoulder at Not-Lance, who stood at the edge of the lantern’s light. “Yeah. That was basically my reaction, too. Which, you know…” She turned back toward Keith who was staring at her with mouth agape. “Who are you? And more importantly, why do you look like a male version of me?”

“Why do you look like me?” Keith blurted – his eyes wide and unblinking; unable to look away because –

 

His own eyes stared back at him.

 

Same eyes, same face – even a scar running up her cheek in the same place as his.

Her hair was longer, draped over her shoulder in a loose braid, but it had the same wild, unruly texture.

Keith’s eyes darted helplessly between the two figures in front of him. He could feel his hands shaking behind his back, and the way his heart was racing in his chest – but every other thought or feeling had turned to pure static as he tried to understand what he was looking at.

 

It was one thing to see a person who resembled someone you knew, but seeing yourself in another person was on a level of disturbing that nothing in the world could have prepared him for.

Especially if that person was –

 

 

“My name is Keira.”

“Don’t tell him! What if he’s a Galra spy?” Not-Lance protested.

“If he is, then he probably already knows my name.” The woman, Keira, was studying Keith’s face.

“Still, I don’t want you getting –“

She rocked back on her heels with a sigh. “If he was sent by the Galra to infiltrate us – if they both were – why are they so close to being copies of us, but still so different? Why are they younger? Why is he…a he? It doesn’t make sense.”

“We’re not spies,” Keith snapped. It was too much, and he didn’t have the patience for this anymore. He wanted to be out of this situation. He wanted – “We don’t know where we are, and we don’t know who you are. Let me see Lance. I need to know he’s okay.”

“Okay, yeah, we’ll just take your word for it.” Not-Lance rolled his eyes. “You can’t see him until we’re convinced you’re telling the truth. We’re not stupid enough to put you in the same room so you two can conspire together to come up with some believable story.”

“That’s…” Keith began, then clamped his mouth shut.

“It’s what?”

He only shook his head. If there was anything Not-Lance had been right about, it was that this was too fucking weird.

Keira’s eyes had never left his face, however. He could feel the unsettling intensity of her gaze and a corner of his mind wondered if this was how people felt around him. “It’s a Lance idea,” she said softly – searching, testing. “That’s what you were going to say. Wasn’t it?”

Keith looked up at her, trying to reveal nothing in his expression.

Trying not to show how uncomfortable it made him to hear her say that as if she had just read his mind.

“The kind of idea no one would think of until he suggests it,” Keira pressed. “The kind of thing they’re quick to dismiss, except the more they think about it, the more they realize it’s actually a good plan. The kind of thing you’re secretly proud of when they agree to go along with it.”

 

It wasn’t just the surety in her voice that made a spark of a thought leap to life in Keith’s mind. It wasn’t just the way she was looking at him like she already knew the answer.

It was that Keith had never said what he thought of Lance’s ideas out loud to anyone. He had never openly acknowledged how he secretly did enjoy the moment, after a long and pointless argument, when the others had to admit that whatever seemingly crazy plan Lance had suggested might actually work. He had never admitted how much he admired Lance’s ability to think of small, vital details that anyone else might pass over.

 

The spark in his mind flared into an idea of his own – and suddenly it was the only thing that made sense.

 

“Oh.” Keith let his shoulders drop. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” Keira nodded. “I think so, too.”

 

Now that the idea was there, it seemed so obvious.

It was there in the same assured resignation in Keira’s voice that Keith felt inside his chest. It was there in the same expression on her face that he knew mirrored his own.

It was there in the way he just knew they had come to the same conclusion, almost at the same moment.

 

“What?” Not-Lance demanded. “What are you two talking about?”

Keira sighed, rising wearily to her feet. Hand on one hip, she turned toward Not-Lance. “I’m going to get the other…you. Untie him and we’ll meet back here.”

“But –“

“Just trust me.”

The movement was small and subtle, but Keith caught it as Not-Lance’s hand reached out, his fingers brushing gently over Keira’s.

To anyone else, that tiny touch could have been nothing. It could have been missed, or brushed off as accidental.

Except Keith had always been the quiet kid who lingered at the back of the group. He had grown up watching people, and over the years he had learned to recognize the significance in the way a person looked at or touched another when the action wasn’t meant for anyone else.

That significance grew as Keira stilled under the touch.

It amplified in the quiet, earnest tone of Not-Lance’s voice as he whispered, “You know I do.”

 

 

To anyone else, it might have been nothing.

 

 

But to Keith, it opened the door to an old, familiar feeling he thought he had successfully locked away.

A feeling that had followed at his heels like an unwanted shadow, whispering in his ear of things beyond his reach. One that had latched onto his heart years ago with an iron grip, making his chest ache against the pressure of it.

A feeling he slammed the door on, now – refusing to let it overtake him.

He drew in a long, slow breath as Keira stepped through the tent flap and out into the daylight – allowing the pounding in his head to be a welcome distraction as Not-Lance crouched behind the pole to untie his hands.

 

Once he was free of the bindings, he pulled his arms around in front of him, absentmindedly rubbing his wrists.

“Hey.”

Keith reluctantly glanced up to see Not-Lance holding out a hand to him. After a second’s hesitation he took it and was pulled to his feet.

“What’s your name? It’s gotta be different, right?”

“I know you still don’t trust me. Why bother asking.”

Not-Lance eyed him for a second, chewing on his lip. “I trust her,” he said simply after a moment. “She obviously picked up on something that I missed.” He let out a soft, self-deprecating snort, muttering, “Still happens a lot.”

“You’re not stupid.” As soon as the words left Keith’s mouth, he pressed his lips together, jaw clenching.

Not-Lance was staring at him with an odd expression, and Keith dropped his gaze again, mumbling, “It’s Keith.”

There was no time for anything else before the tent flap was opening and Keira was leading Lance through. The tension and confusion was fully apparent on Lance’s features, but the moment he laid eyes on Keith, his expression drained into such obvious relief it made Keith’s iron-clad heart beat once – fast and hopeful and sure.

Lance pulled his arm out of Keira’s hold, hurrying over to where Keith stood. One of his hands was reaching out as he drew near, but it stopped inches away from actually making contact with Keith’s.

Lance’s fingers hovered in the space between them for a second before he was pulling his hand away, fingers curling into a fist at his side.

 

And the door to that old, familiar feeling was pushed open once again, creaking on it’s hinges as understanding began to seep into Keith’s chest.

 

“Hey, man. You okay?”

Keith’s eyes flicked around the room, before he raised one brow at Lance, silently asking Really?

Lance’s expression twisted in wordless agreement, before they both turned to face the two people watching their little unspoken interaction.

 

 

Keira and Not-Lance exchanged a look of their own before Keira held out a hand toward Keith, palm up. “I have a theory and I think you do as well, but I want to test it. So I’d like for both of us to say what we think is going on at the same time.”

Keith inclined his head. “Fine by me.”

“Okay, then. On three –“ She counted down and then at the same moment they both said –

 

“Alternate reality.”

 

Beside Keith, Lance muttered a low, “Well, that was freaky.”

“Wait, wait –“ Not-Lance held up a hand. “So you think they are…versions of us from another universe of something? And you think that is more believable than Galra spies?”

“We’re the same.” Keira waved a hand between herself and Keith.

Um, if you haven’t noticed –“

Lance.” The word was ground out from between clenched teeth. “Look, I can’t explain it, but –“

“It’s like looking in a mirror and knowing that you’re seeing yourself.” Keith wasn’t sure if he could put it into words, either. “Apart from the obvious differences –“ he added, shoving one hand in front of Lance’s face as he heard him draw in a breath, getting ready to add some obvious and sarcastic remark. “You don’t just look like me. You think like me. You react like me.”

“Even a clone implanted with memories would vary from the original in some way,” Keira pointed out. “And that’s not what this feels like. Besides, if they were clones sent to infiltrate us, it was a poor strategy because it instantly raised suspicion.”

“Ok, so…say that’s true. We really are in another universe right now,” Lance shoved his hands in his pockets, hiking his shoulders up to his ears. “We didn’t just crash land on some alien planet, we actually are in a whole other dimension…”

Keith turned to him. “You got a better idea?”

Lance’s eyes flicked briefly to him, and something in his expression made Keith instantly regret the harsh tone he had used. But then Lance was shaking his head and dropping his gaze. “No,” he mumbled. “It’s just that we… It’s just weird.”

“I know! I keep saying that.” Not-Lance leaned forward, inserting himself into the space between the two pairs. “We were just having a lovely day being at war in this sweltering jungle –“

“Ugh, right?” Lance threw one hand into the air. “This fucking jungle –“

“Oh trust me. It barely gets better at night,” Not-Lance agreed emphatically. “But, like, we were just having a grand old time out here, and suddenly you two drop in and – What are we even supposed to do with you? This is just too weird for me to even begin to comprehend.”

“You think it’s weird for you,” Keira muttered.

Not-Lance poked her cheek, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be curious to see how I would look as a girl.”

“If you had been a girl,” Keira deadpanned. “Things would be different.”

“Well, damn. I thought you liked me for my shining personality” The grin stretched further into a sly smirk. “Besides, I’d still have the same, ya know…skills. You know…that thing? Couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to.”

“Good thing I don’t want to.”

 

The smile Keira shot him in return – the warm conspiratorial look of a shared bond – made understanding fully settle in and take root.

It was as if someone had grabbed the door to Keith’s old, familiar feeling and flung it wide – cracking open his heart like Pandora’s box, letting all his doubt and fear and anguish loose to run rampant through his chest.

Before, he had been able to keep the feelings at bay. He had been able to round them up and push them back, because despite everything else, he had still had that lingering sliver of hope at the bottom of the box; the whisper of Don’t give up completely. You never know.

 

But as he struggled to draw in a full breath, trying to combat the way his stomach was plummeting, he realized this time was different, because that pinprick of hope was no longer there.

It had been crushed by the way the two alternate versions of himself and Lance looked at one another; stomped out by the way they smiled, their eyes lighting up from the strength of what lay inside.

 

Seeing them like this meant there was no reason to hope anymore. There was no reason to desperately cling to the remnant of the chance Keith had thought he might still have.

 

It was like being back in the Quantum Abyss and being shown a vision of the future he had wanted for so long.

Except this was not his future, and he knew, now, it could never be.

 

 

This was the future he could have had – if only he was not himself.

 

 

 

“Oh.” The gravity in Keith’s voice drew Keira’s attention back to him.

She held his gaze, her eyes narrowing for a moment before they abruptly went wide. It was the final nail in the coffin – the ultimate proof that cemented the belief in Keith’s mind that she was, in fact, his counterpart from another universe. After all, he told himself, they had to be the same if she didn’t need words to understand what he couldn’t say.

Her shoulders slumped a little and her face twisted with sympathy and understanding. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Keith pressed his lips into a grim line. “I guess in every reality –“

Keira pinched the bridge of her nose. It was the same thing Keith did when he was frustrated or something was on the verge of being overwhelming.

“What is going on?” Lance looked from one to the other, sounding lost and annoyed. “Why are you two…telecommunicating? What’s ‘oh?’”

“It doesn’t matter.” Keith knew his response was too quick, too blunt. He could feel Lance’s eyes on him – could almost sense the suspicion there – but he couldn’t look at his teammate. Not now.

 

Maybe not ever.

 

“Well, something is going on, and I don’t like being shut out!”

“I second that,” Not-Lance grumbled, arms crossed over his chest.

Keira sighed, eyed locked with Keith’s.

He knew what she was asking, but all he could manage was a shrug. “Just tell your part.”

“So it’s not –“

“It’s not.” Keith confirmed, adding silently to himself. And now I really know it never will be.

“I’m sorry.” Keira nodded before focusing her attention on Lance. “And okay, look – just so this doesn’t come as a shock to you later… I’m guessing you also love your family and miss them more than anything, right?”

“Y-yeah.” Obviously taken aback, Lance’s voice came out thin and dry.

“And if you ever brought someone back home with you to meet them, it would be pretty significant, wouldn’t it?”

“Um…yeah?”

“Well…” she paused. “As soon as this war is over, Lance – my Lance – is taking me home with him. To meet his family.”

Keith’s eyes were boring holes into the dirt at his feet, but he and Lance were standing side by side and he could almost feel the jolt of understanding that shot through his teammate.

“Oh. Oh um…okay,” Lance’s voice was hushed. “You…you guys are…? You mean –“

“We’re together,” Keira confirmed, as gently as she was able. “We’ve been together for four years. We’ll be together as long as he’ll have me.”

“Right. So…forever, then.” There was a laugh in Not-Lance’s voice.

 

 

And the iron grip around Keith’s heart tightened, squeezing until it felt like the only thing that remained in his chest was dust and defeat.

 

 

Chapter 3: FLIRT

Summary:

"When you start to get confused
Because of thoughts in your head
Don't feel those feelings, hold them in instead..."

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

FLIRT

 

Lance POV

 

 

 

“So we’re just going to skip right past the fact that there are actual alternate universes, then?”

 

Lance tried his best not to roll his eyes, but it was a losing battle. There had always been something about the tone of James Griffin’s voice that immediately pushed him to the edge of his last nerve. And apparently that tone transcended realities.

Of course he’s here, he glowered to himself. Not Hunk or Pidge or Shiro. James fucking Griffin.

It only made things worse, because Lance knew he didn’t personally have a justifiable reason as to why he disliked the guy as much as he did. James hadn’t bullied or antagonized him at the Garrison, besides the snide or condescending remark here and there.

So the only reason he could come up with that made even one modicum of sense was the fact that James had done those things to Keith.

 

And because at the time, Lance had been too much of a coward to step in and do anything about it.

 

 

 

Lance didn’t realize how plainly his thoughts were showing on his face until he felt the pressure of Keith’s shoulder deliberately bumping his. Any annoyance he had been poorly concealing evaporated as he glanced over and caught a gleam in Keith’s eye.

 

And for one brief, glorious moment, everything felt right.

 

He knew that look – and it transported him back to a time before the Blade; a time before everything had gotten so complicated and they had all become so fractured.

A time when he wasn’t quite sure if he and Keith had even liked each other – but he had no doubt in his mind that when it really counted, they were always on the same page.

 

 

He gave Keith a pointed look before he let his eyes roll back in an overly exaggerated expression that he hoped conveyed the sentiment of This fucking asshole.

The only thing he got in response was the smallest twitching of Keith’s lips and a slight flaring of his nostrils, before he focused back on the rest of the group that had been brought into the tent with them.

Lance had to fight the urge to shift closer to him; to press their shoulders together again, to lean his head against Keith’s.

Because he wanted that back – he wanted that camaraderie and the feeling of comfort he got from knowing they were in perfect sync without ever having to say a word.

It was the one thing he hadn’t known he needed in his life until it was gone – as though the entire time he and Keith had been forming that unspoken bond between them, he had been standing in the safe circle of warmth and light cast by a campfire.

And the minute the doors closed on Keith’s back as he walked away from the team, it was as if Lance had stepped away from the light and suddenly found himself lost in the woods.

 

 

 

“And not even just alternate universes,” James was saying as Lance tuned back in. “But the fact that there is apparently a multiverse with actual alternate versions of us out there. How is that not the first thing we need to talk about, here?” He turned sharply on Keira and the other Lance. “Have you even considered that they are with the enemy? Sent to infiltrate us? Did those thoughts even cross your minds or are you just blindly trusting them because they look like you?”

“Dude –“ Not-Lance began, but was stopped when Keira held up a hand.

“As a matter of fact, we did consider that,” she said, her voice sounding a bit too controlled. “And actually, we did take the time to figure out that they are not here for that purpose.”

“But how do you –“ James began again, but Keira folded her arms across her chest, fixing him with a look until he shut his mouth and rocked back on his heels.

“The way I see it,” Keira addressed the group after a beat of silence. “Is that none of us know anything about alternate realities – including those two.” She paused, seeing if anyone would interrupt. “So I suggest instead of theorizing on the fact that a multiverse exists, we instead discuss how we can actually work toward getting them home.”

“Two birds.”

It was the first time someone unfamiliar had spoken up, and Lance frowned at the small, blond woman whose eyes darted nervously around as the attention was suddenly focused on her.

“We get to O-Base. They get home,” she added, quiet and clipped. “Two birds, one stone.”

“Exactly.” Keira agreed.

“Are you serious?” James blurted, throwing his hands up in the air. “Bring them to Oriande?”

Lance glanced over at Keith, relieved to see his friend looked equally as confused as he felt.

“Wasn’t that something to do with Allura?”

Lance shrugged. “It was some kind of secret Altean magic temple, I think? Honestly it was confusing.”

“What are you two talking about?”

James’ sharp voice drove Lance over the edge, and he turned on the other man, bending at the waist and planting both hands solidly on his hips. “Oh, would you just shut the fuck up for once? Jeez! We’re not a threat to you. We don’t have some secret, evil agenda. We’re just as lost as you are so just – stop being such a dick, okay?”

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then laughter erupted from the other side of the group. Not-Lance clapped a hand on Keira’s shoulder and doubled over, not even pretending to hide it.

Beside Lance, Keith had his fist pressed against his mouth and was breathing heavily through his nose.

“Oh maaaan!” Not-Lance drew the word out on the tail end of his dying laughter. “I get what you were saying about looking in a mirror, now.”

“I don’t get it,” the blond girl muttered.

 

“This is going to get confusing.”

 

For the first time, another person spoke up, changing the subject and easing some of the tension that crackled across the group as Lance met James’ glare with one of his own.

The warm eyes of the man they had encountered in the forest flicked between Lance and Keith, and then over to their counterparts. “We need a distinction,” he said softly. “Or there will be miscommunication.”

“Good point,” Keira said. She tapped a finger against her chest before gesturing toward Keith. “Officially, I am Lieutenant Keira Kogane. We usually use last names, here –“

Keith shook his head, coughing once to ease any trace of humor from his voice before he spoke. “Then we’d be the same.”

“All right. Then for the time being, you all may either use my first name or my rank. And – do you have ranks?”

“Not really.” Lance and Keith exchanged a glance, before Keith turned back to her and shrugged. “Keith is fine.”

Not-Lance leaned forward, one hand still resting comfortably on Keira’s shoulder. “Same for us? Officially speaking – Sergeant Lance Alvarez?”

“Oh!” Lance’s breath caught in his throat for a moment. “That’s…that’s my mom’s name, but…um…Lance McClain, actually.”

Not-Lance leaned back, sliding a hand through the air before him. “Oh, I like that. Alvarez and McClain – rogue cops! Taking on the mob and seducing the ladies.”

“Alvarez and McClain,” Keira deadpanned. “Sleeping outside with the mosquitoes.”

“Aw, come on, babe,” Alvarez gave her shoulder a friendly shake. “Like you could spend one night without me.”

“It’s awkward,” the blond girl muttered.

“Yes,” James grumbled. “No one wants to hear that, Alvarez.”

 

 

Along with the people they were familiar with, Lance and Keith were informed that the blond girl was named Ina Leifsdottir, and the man who had found them in the woods was Ryan Kinkade.

Oriande (or O-Base), they also learned, was not a magical Altean place, but a secret base of operations for the rebellion, of which this group was a part.

More specifically, it was the facility where most of the scientific research and development took place – which was why, Keira explained, getting there would be their best chance of finding someone who might know how to get them home.

 

The unit Lance and Keith currently found themselves in the middle of had been in the process of making their way back to Oriande after they had gotten stuck in enemy territory after a covert mission.

The unit consisted of Lieutenant Keira Kogane, Sergeant Lance Alvarez, Sergeant James Griffin, Ina Leifsdottir, Ryan Kinkade, and four others who were out on patrol – keeping an eye out for enemy activity and scoping out their route – Nadia Rizavi, Curtis Dhawan, Adam Wright, and, in an unexpected turn of events, Matthew Holt.

Lance noticed Keith’s shoulders stiffen at several of those names, and he nudged him with a questioning look in his eyes, but Keith only shook it off.

They had originally been two separate units, as the rebels found it best to travel in squads of no more than six to move as quickly and quietly as possible. However, Keira’s squad had recently lost a member, and James’ squad had lost two, and once they found each other, they decided to travel together since neither had been able to get in contact with Oriande for several weeks.

They were still on the edge of enemy territory – Galra territory – but they had not seen any action in ten days, and they hoped they could make it back to their base without further incident.

 

 

***

 

 

Lance’s head was swimming with an overabundance of information when they were finally given an empty tent and told that they would be packing up and moving on shortly after breakfast the following day.

His mom had taught him once that when he was feeling overwhelmed with anything, it might help to make a list in his head. It didn’t need to be of anything specific, it was just a technique meant to help organize the chaos in his mind.

So he took a moment to center himself and make a list of all the positive things he could think of.

 

1) They had a place to sleep.

2) They weren’t about to die.

3) They had been given clothes for the next day.

4) They had been given food and water.

5) They had each been given some of the supplies from the lost soldiers – basic necessities such as hand wipes, a small medical kit, and tablets that worked to clean their teeth.

6) He wasn’t alone.

6a) Keith was with him.

 

 

Keith was with him.

 

 

That final thought, more than anything, brought some peace to Lance’s mind. He tried to tell himself that of course it had to do with the fact that they worked well together, and Keith was good to have around in case of a fight.

But his mind kept nudging at him like a know-it-all friend, whispering You know that’s not it. You know it’s just because of how much you like having him around. You know it’s because you –

Lance forced that thought away before it could complete itself, because now was not the time for any of that. Now was the time to regroup and settle down for the night, which wouldn’t be possible if he allowed his thoughts about Keith to have free reign over his mind.

 

The subject of his inner turmoil was still hovering by the tent flap, oblivious to Lance’s mental struggle. As Lance glanced over at him, however, he could practically see the tension radiating off of Keith like heat waves off of a sun-baked surface.

If he had learned anything during all their time together, it was that sometimes Keith just needed his space in order to process things. So Lance busied himself by rolling out the two bedrolls they had been given, before picking one and plopping down onto it with a soft groan. He got as far as removing his shoes before he decided enough was enough.

It wasn’t necessarily that he needed to break the stifling silence, it was more to do with the fact that Keith was still hovering by the entrance, as if he was expecting something to happen at any second.

 

“Hey, man. Sit down. Stay a while.”

“I’m good.”

Lance raised one skeptical eyebrow. “Dude, seriously?” He tried to lean into Keith’s eye-line, but ended up almost toppling over. “You said you were tired, remember? Well, look, here’s the perfect thing for that – a place to sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

Keith still wasn’t looking at him, his eyes darting carefully around the enclosed area, and Lance took the opportunity to really study his friend. He usually only allowed himself to look at Keith the way someone would look at the sun – a quick glance, but never longer than a couple seconds. Never long enough to get caught staring.

His eyes traveled across Keith’s face and down his body, now, unashamedly. He saw the furrow in between Keith’s eyebrows, the stiff position of his shoulders, the way he kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Keith…when was the last time you got some sleep?”

“Last night.”

Lance’s skepticism grew, edged with concern. “And how much sleep did you get last night?”

For a second, he saw Keith’s expression falter. “I got enough.” When he finally did turn to look at Lance it was to offer him a smile that Lance assumed was meant to appear reassuring. “I’m fine, I promise. I’m just going to stay up for a bit longer to make sure everything is okay. But you should get some sleep. I know you’re tired, too.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, you know.”

That drew a frown from Keith, but it also thankfully took a more solid hold on his attention. “Of course I know that. I know you’re capable –“

“No.” Lance cut him off, batting away Keith’s excuses. “I mean…you don’t need to protect me. You don’t need to…be the leader, here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, man.” Lance wanted to get to his feet, walk over to Keith and shake him by the shoulders. He wanted to run his fingers through Keith’s hair until that tension eased out of his face. Instead, he drew in a long breath and pushed that thought away, shoving it into a darkened corner of his mind with all the others like it. “This is crazy and nothing makes sense. But we’re here together, so we need to figure this out together. We need to be there for each other. So I need you to actually get some sleep.” He straightened his back, trying to look as stern and serious as he could. “You don’t need to protect me. You need to rely on me. And I need to be able to rely on you. And I can’t do that if you’re going to wear yourself out.” He let his gaze linger on Keith’s face as his voice dropped into something softer. “I’m here with you, man. It’s not all on you, okay?”

For a split second, time seemed to stop as Keith’s expression broke completely. He drew in a sharp, shallow breath, his eyes blinking rapidly, before he seemed to catch himself, immediately reining in his reaction; welding closed the cracks he had let splinter his shield.

 

 

Lance hung onto that moment, however – that fraction of a second where he felt somewhere deep down, he might have just said exactly what Keith had needed to hear.

 

 

“That –“ Keith began, then stopped and let out a surprised laugh. “That actually makes a lot of sense. Okay. I’ll try my best.” His gaze shifted over to the bedroll and his shoulders dropped slightly, although it was a far cry from actually relaxation. “But I…” He stopped, shaking his head and moved to the opposite side of the roll, putting as much space as possibly between him and Lance in the small tent.

“You what?”

Keith shook his head again, obviously struggling on whether or not to actually finish his sentence. Eventually, his shoulders slumped fully as he sank into a crouch. “I…don’t sleep a lot because when I do I get…nightmares. Most of the time, I mean. Sometimes they’re…pretty bad. So – Look, I’m only telling you because we’re sleeping so close together and I’m…I’m sorry if I wake you up in the middle of the night.”

“Hey man –” Lance paused, tilting his head and trying to catch Keith’s eye. When his friend finally looked over at him, he offered a grin and a solitary finger gun. “I grew up in a big family. I know how to deal with nightmares.”

For the first time in a while, Keith’s smile appeared shaky but sincere. “You gonna come over here and comfort me, Lance? Sing me a lullaby?”

He was teasing, but it didn’t stop the image that flashed through Lance’s mind…

 

His arm around Keith.

Keith’s head resting on his shoulder.

His fingers stroking through Keith’s hair as he hummed a soft melody –

 

“Yup.” He said, letting that image get lost within the pile of previous thoughts he had pushed away. “I can read you a bedtime story, too, if you want.” His voice was light, but he could already feel the ache settling back into his chest.

For a moment, he could almost put a name to that feeling – something caught between longing and despair. Something that wanted desperately to dig through the pile of memories and pull that image out again. Something that wanted to hold that image out to Keith like an offering, or a request.

 

Keith rolled his eyes, but his smile lingered – and Lance ordered his mind to be satisfied with that.

 

 



Try as he might, Lance couldn’t fall asleep.

He was exhausted, and he knew they had to wake up early the next day, which only made the whole ordeal more frustrating. No matter how many times he shifted positions, or tried to count to 100 like his Mom had taught him, or tried to just tell himself Brain, calm the fuck down and go to sleep, nothing worked.

He didn’t realize how obviously restless he was being until he heard a small, annoyed groan and saw Keith shift in the dim light, lifting up until he was propped on one arm as he turned to face Lance, pushing his hair out of his face.

“Hey.” Keith’s voice sounded a little rough. “This obviously isn’t working for either of us, so just tell me what’s going on.”

Lance was flat on his stomach, his limbs spread out as far as they could go in the bedroll. He muffled a growl into the pillow before pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“I don’t know. I just can’t sleep.”

“Yeah. I can’t sleep either and your constant fidgeting isn’t helping.” It didn’t sound accusatory, and Lance could make out Keith’s expression in the dim light just enough to see that he looked sympathetic rather than angry. “My mind won’t shut off. I’m guessing it’s the same for you, so…just talk to me. I bet it’ll help.”

For a moment Lance wavered – caught between a place of Who are you and what have you done with Keith, and I like this new, comforting, level-headed side of you.

Caught, he realized, in a place between his comfort zone, and something he didn’t have a name for yet – something that felt like a dark chasm that held the answer at the bottom, if only he was willing to jump.

Finally, he let his head drop, raising his palms in a shrug gesture. “I don’t…even know where to start. There’s too much –“

“Just pick one thing.” Keith let his body slump, tilting his head until his ear rested on his shoulder, his full attention fixed on Lance. “Just say the first thing that comes to your mind.”

 

“What if we can’t get back?”

 

The question came out so abruptly, it made Lance draw in a shaky breath as soon as the words left his mouth. Of course it had been on his mind – from the minute they started talking about alternate universes.

The question held all the fear he had been carrying with him from the moment he realized they were stuck in space, all those years ago. It held in it all the worry and guilt over his family – how he had to brace himself against the knowledge that every day he spent away from them might be the last; that he might never see them again, and they might never know what happened to him.

The question carried with it the loneliness and betrayal of leaving everyone and everything he had ever known behind without ever saying goodbye.

 

The question was the one thing Lance had never allowed himself to actually say out loud, for fear that if he did, it would become real, and he would lose any possibility of ever seeing his home again.

 

But now it was out – the dam had been broken – and it was hard to stop a flood once the water started flowing. “What if we’re stuck here for the rest of our lives? What if we never see anyone we know ever again? What if it’s my fault that we –“

Keith straightened up suddenly, leaning across the gap between them and pressing one hand against Lance’s bedroll for stability. “Hey, listen to me. Something like this can’t be a one way trip. We got here somehow. We’ll get back somehow.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Lance.” Keith’s voice was gentle and low in the quiet of the tent. “I will get you home. Whatever it takes.”

 

 

 

It should have been reassuring. It should have made Lance feel comforted. Except it was almost verbatim what Keith had said to him in the forest earlier that day – except this time the words caught in Lance’s mind, sending him a flash of understanding that made him roll onto his side and really look at Keith for the second time that day.

Before, he had been trying so hard to figure out to what Keith wasn’t saying, when all he needed to do was listen to the actual words Keith had chosen to use.

Because –

 

“You’ll get us home. We’ll both go home. Together.”

 

Keith blinked at him, like the obvious statement Lance had just presented came as a surprise. Then he was backtracking – “Right. Yeah, of course. That’s what I meant.”

Just as quickly as it had come, the understanding slipped away – leaving Lance scrambling for answers in the dark.

 

Lance had always been good at reading people. He had always been aware of how others were feeling, no matter how well they thought they were hiding it. He had always known when to keep pushing at someone, and when they actually needed him to back off.

Right now, all his instincts were telling him to drop it – yet his heart was urging him forward, telling him to bash his fists against the wall between them until it came crumbling down.

Because he knew more than anyone that there was a difference between shutting yourself off with folded arms and a glare, and pretending you weren’t even hiding a problem to begin with.

 

Keith’s words felt like a slip up for something just out of his reach.

 

He wanted to press the matter; he wanted to ask Keith what was going on. The right words evaded him, however – and the longer he searched for them, the further he felt Keith slipping away; retreating inside himself to a place where nothing could ever touch him.

So he let it slide, for fear that if he pressed the matter and got it wrong, Keith would never let anything slip again.

“Okay. You’re right. If we found our way here, we can find our way back.” Lance hesitated for a moment, eyes fixed on his fidgeting hands – needing to change the subject, but only knowing of one other thing that he couldn’t shake. “But also, um…we’re…together. Here, I mean. Like, this you and this me…we’re – they’re – a couple. Like…a serious couple.”

Keith pulled away, then, sitting back on his heels and cocking his head at Lance. “Yeah, but in case you haven’t noticed a lot of things are different here.” He raised his eyebrows and made a vague gesture toward himself. “Just because something is one way here it doesn’t mean it’s going to be the same for us. That shouldn’t even be on your worry list.”

“It’s not a worry,” Lance spoke carefully, eyes flicking up to meet Keith’s. Talking about the previous subject – touching on anything involving homesickness – made him feel like he was treading icy water, desperately fighting to keep his head above the surface as the weight of his own body pulled at his feet. Talking about this, however, made him feel his heartbeat in his ears; made him feel like someone had yanked him onto dry land only to scream at him to run as laser blasts whizzed past his head. “It’s just…does it bother you? Does it, I don’t know, freak you out or anything?”

Keith glanced away – turning from the soft light filtering in from beneath the tent flap, casting his face in shadow. “I guess it might be easier for me to…distance myself from it?” he said after a moment. “I mean, you look at Alvarez and he’s – he’s you with a different haircut. But I look at Keira and I can almost trick my mind into seeing a stranger. I know we’re the same, but I also know I’m…I’m never going to be her, and because of that our lives are going to be very different, so I guess –“ He shook his head, dropping whatever train of thought he had been on. “No, it doesn’t bother me or freak me out. They get their lives; we get ours right?”

The laugh that left Lance’s mouth felt too nervous, and he tried to cover it up with a cough – which didn’t necessarily help the situation. “Okay. Yeah. Right. That whole thing was…um, a shock seems like a bit of an understatement.” His racing heart only allowed him a second’s pause before it goaded his mouth to take control of the conversation without his consent. “You look good as a girl, by the way.”

 

On anyone else, the reaction would have been subtle. But Lance knew Keith well enough by now to see exactly how immediate and startling it was as his entire body froze.

 

Even in the dim light, Lance actually saw his limbs lock into place, his hands curling into fists against the bedroll beneath him. He saw the way Keith was now purposefully keeping his face hidden in the shadows – and just as quickly he found himself sitting up, reaching out into the space between them before he could stop his hand.

“I wasn’t saying that –“ Lance didn’t know what he had done, only that it had been the wrong thing to say for some reason. “I mean, it’s not like you’re –“

“Lance.” The name was forced out in a tone that felt like a door slamming in Lance’s face. “You don’t have to do that. Just drop it.” Some of the tension eased out of Keith’s body, but the action looked calculated, like he was trying to appear calm and relaxed instead of actually feeling that way. “I know it was a joke.”

 

 

It had been a joke, Lance almost said. Just a bit of light teasing meant to be brushed off with a laugh of a playful rebuttal.

 

 

Except there had been truth to it. Casual praise hidden within the confines of a joke – a way to compliment Keith without telling him straight to his face what Lance barely even allowed himself to acknowledge in the privacy of his own mind.

And even though he knew – he knew from Keith’s reaction – that it wouldn’t be wise to press this further, the idea that Keith had somehow taken his words in the exact opposite way of their intent made him give into his compulsion and whisper, soft against the night – “For the record, you look good as a boy, too.”

“Just stop.” Keith’s voice was sharp enough to make Lance wince. “I don’t care.” He shifted on the bedroll, face still hidden from view, and lay down onto his back, hands folded on his chest and eyes focused on the tent ceiling. “I get that it might be weird seeing versions of us like that, but it’s different, and I don’t want you to think –“ Keith faltered, raising both hands to cover his face. When he continued, his voice was muffled and a little desperate. “Just because I’m gay I don’t want you to think I’d ever think that you need to…” he faltered again, floundering for the words and losing them. “Anyway –“ he rushed on. “You and Allura are together, so yeah. Different circumstances and all that. Nothing to worry about.”

“Allura and I are not together.”

Lance withdrew slightly, reeling a little – surprised at his own words.

There had been so many ways he could have responded to all Keith had said; so many different conversational paths that could have come from picking one over the other. So many things he wanted to address.

Yet the overwhelming need to correct Keith’s mistaken assumption was something he apparently had no control over.

And, as always, he wasn’t quite sure why.

 

The blurted confession seemed to catch Keith off guard enough for him to drop his hands and roll onto his side. There was only open confusion in his expression as he looked at Lance – nothing hidden or guarded – and it was a small comfort. “What do you mean? I thought you were dating.”

Lance let out a heavy sigh, flipping over onto his back and folding his hands on his stomach, mirroring Keith’s position from a moment before. “We went on one date, if you could even call it that. Our last night on Earth. I mean, you knew that. I took her to meet my family and we had dinner, all together.”

“I thought taking someone to meet your family was –“

“It is serious. It was serious,” Lance interrupted. “But…I don’t know, I guess not in the way I expected?” His hands waved lazily through the air as he recalled that evening. “We took a walk after dinner, just Allura and me, and we actually…talked for the first time. Like, we sat down and actually had a real, uninterrupted conversation.” He let his fingers splay wide before balling them into a fist, a small smile tugging at his lips. “We decided to be friends. Or, I guess more accurately, we both realized we’d work so much better as just friends.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith murmured, and it sounded so genuine, it sent a weird little thrill through Lance’s chest.

“That’s the thing – you don’t have to be. I don’t feel bad about it, as weird as that sounds.” He let his hands fall back against his chest, fingers interlocking. “I didn’t ask her out for the right reasons, and she didn’t accept for the right reasons. We actually had a nice laugh about it, once we were honest with each other – and dude, that felt so much better!” He allowed himself to glance over at Keith, then. And maybe it was the confidence that comes from late night conversations, whispered in the dark. Or maybe it was the way Keith’s eyes were fixed on him so intently, his lower lip clamped between his teeth. Or maybe it was the something else that Lance still didn’t understand; that something else that drew him to Keith without reason or explanation. But whatever it was, it gave him the boost of courage he needed to keep talking. “It’s similar with you, except we haven’t had a chance to talk since you got back from that stupid whale. I thought I was chasing after you because you were my rival – you know, Lance and Keith neck and neck. I thought I wanted to beat you, but I didn’t. I don’t.” There was something tense and precarious in the air between them – and for some reason that made Lance rush on, like he had been holding a secret in for years and he had finally found someone to tell it to. “Because those moments when we worked together? Those times when we were 100% in sync and helping each other out and having each other’s backs? That’s what I really wanted.”

 

“You’re saying…that you want to be friends?”

It felt like Keith had reached out and plunged an icy dagger into Lance’s heart. He had to fight to keep his voice steady as he whispered, “We…are friends, Keith. Aren’t we?”

It was a weird comfort when Keith’s voice came out as shaky as Lance felt. “I…I don’t… I never had –“

 

Lance pushed himself up to a sitting position, propping himself up on one arm as he jabbed a finger at Keith’s face. “Nope. You know what? But be honest with me, man – you know we work well together. I can’t explain it, but I feel like we just…get each other when it counts.” He paused before adding, soft and maybe a bit too obviously desolate. “Am I wrong?”

Keith sat up, too, half turning toward Lance and pulling one knee up. “When I was with the Blade,” he began in a voice that almost sounded shy. “There was this one meeting I remember more than the rest. It was some alliance meeting with this alien race called the Brodians.”

“Ah yes,” Lance couldn’t help but interrupt. “The planet of frat parties and fuck-boys. I’m familiar.”

Keith’s chuckle was soft and encouraging before he continued. “They actually had these really long tentacle-like arms, and whenever something happened that they enjoyed or agreed upon, every single one of them would raise their tentacles and make this noise and do this –“ Keith raised his arms above his head, making a high-pitched trilling sound and letting his limbs go loose and floppy while he performed a little shimmy with his shoulders. “And every time –“ he broke off, biting his lip. “Okay, stop laughing – but, wait no, that’s exactly my point. That was the longest fucking meeting of my life because I was trying so hard not to laugh! I was pretty sure I was going to pass out, and all the other Blades were just standing there like it was nothing. And I kept –“ the humor slipped from his voice, falling into something quiet and wistful. “I kept wishing you were there because I knew you’d find it just as funny as I did. I almost…called you. After that meeting. But I figured you were probably…”

Lance’s own laughter dissipated with the change in Keith’s voice, and the word left unsaid.

 

 

Busy.

I figured you were probably too busy.

 

 

Keith didn’t need to actually say it for Lance to understand, because how many times had he felt the exact same way? How many times had he thought to reach out, or try to join in – only to think better of it and retreat to his own room or the training deck?

 

How many times had he felt exactly how Keith sounded?

 

And that thought made something inside Lance’s heart crack – propelling his body forward until he was leaning as close as he could without actually crawling over to Keith’s bedroll.

It urged him on – telling him it was okay to keep treading down this path, because maybe he and Keith had been traveling side by side all this time without ever realizing it. “I looked for you.” The words drew Keith’s gaze away from the ground. “After you left. Whenever something stupid or funny would happen, I’d find myself just automatically looking toward where you should have been standing. I didn’t realize how strongly that was just ingrained in me until you…weren’t there anymore. And I’m gonna be honest, man – it was awful. Not having that. Having to sit through all that boring diplomatic bullshit and not having you there afterwards to laugh about it with me.” He paused, feeling his heartbeat in his throat. “So yeah. It was never Lance and Keith neck and neck. Somehow, without either of us realizing it, I think it just became Lance and Keith.”

He knew his words held some kind of admission in them; some kind of deeper, hidden truth. But they were out there, now, and he found he didn’t actually want to take them back.

For one breathless moment, the two of them simply stared at one another as the words faded into the night.

Then a slow smile pulled at Keith’s mouth. “I’m glad we’re friends,” he said, quiet and sincere. “Go to sleep, Lance.”

 

 

And miraculously, when Lance lay back down and closed his eyes, sleep found him without effort.

 

 

***

 

 

Waking up the next morning was disorienting.

Lance could make the excuse that it had everything to do with the tent and the bedroll, and the sweltering heat. In actuality, however, it had everything to do with the fact that he was woken up by a gentle hand shaking his shoulder, and the sight of Keith’s face hovering over him as he opened his eyes.

“What –“ Lance croaked, before reality hit him like a bucket of ice water.

Keith gave him a knowing look and a pat on the shoulder. “Yeah. There it is.”

Lance pulled the bedroll over his head, groaning softly as he heard Keith rise to his feet and move away.

“You know,” he said into the fabric threatening to suffocate him. “After a night of intense emotional unloading, it should be a requirement to be able to sleep in until at least noon.”

“Sleep is for the weak, Lance. Are you the weak?”

“I’ll be as weak as I need to be if it lets me sleep.” He let his sigh stretch into a groan as he hauled himself upright, wobbling on his feet.

Keith was already fumbling with the bag of essential supplies they had been given the previous night as Lance shuffled over.

The fact that the toothpaste tablet exploded into charcoal-tasting foam in Lance’s mouth was worth the disgust, because the reactionary noise of absolute outrage and revulsion he made caused Keith to snort so hard, he had to press both hands over his mouth. This immediately had both of them whirling in opposite directions, as they tried to suppress their laughter and not choke on the disgusting stuff.

Except Lance was a sucker for the rush he got at making people laugh, so after a moment he turned back, placed both hands on his hips and said “Hey, Keith?” around his mouthful of foam. The minute Keith turned a wary expression his way, Lance broke into a brilliant grin, feeling foam dribble out of the corners of his mouth, sliding down his chin. “Am I supposed to swallow?”

The sound Keith made was pitiful and strangled. He whirled back around, covering his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut and flipping Lance off with his free hand. Once he had, in fact, swallowed his own mouthful, he straightened up, eyes gleaming. “Yes, Lance,” he drawled. “You are supposed to swallow.” The back of one hand wiped across his mouth, leaving a smirk in its place. “In both cases you were implying.”

And Lance was grinning too hard to care that most of the toothpaste was now on his shirt.

 

 

 

The clothes they had been given were similar to what the rest of the group had been wearing – cargo pants, a teeshirt, a military-style vest, as well as a pair of sturdy boots Lance hoped would fit and not give him blisters.

He was in the middle of an internal debate over how they were going to handle the actual changing-into-new-clothes issue, as he turned toward Keith just in time to see him already pulling his shirt over his head.

Lance tried to turn away – he really, seriously tried – and he absolutely would have, if not for the somewhat shocking discovery that may or may not have caused his heart to skip a beat.

The squeak of surprise that left his mouth was 100% justified and completely involuntary. It also made Keith look toward him, one curious eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“Um…you have a tattoo?” Lance blurted.

Keith glanced down at the fine ink lines stretching across his chest and shoulder. “Oh, yeah. I forget sometimes.”

“Um…when?”

“When I was with the Blade.”

Lance took a hesitant step forward. “Can I – can I see it?”

Keith shrugged, twisting around and raising his chin so Lance could get a clear view. “Sure. I don’t get to show it off much, so…yeah.”

Lance stepped over to him, leaning in.

The tattoo curved over Keith’s skin in varying black lines. It started on the left with a desert scene – a single cactus silhouetted against the night sky. But as Lance looked further, he saw the tail end and one wing of Keith’s hoverbike – the one they had all escaped on with Shiro that first, fateful night. Imposed above the bike was a lion, it’s legs stretching out as if it was leaping. The wings of Voltron sprouted from it’s back as it soared into a sky of planets and stars.

 

It was a journey.

It was freedom.

It was Keith.

 

“Lance, what are you doing?”

The question tore his attention away from the fine black lines that stood out in such stark contrast against Keith’s pale skin – and only then did he realize he had been tracing them with his fingertips, his other hand resting on Keith’s side as if to hold him steady.

 

 

He laughed softly, pulling his hands away. “Sorry, I’ve just…this is really cool and I’ve always been a fan of tattoos. Don’t know if I could ever pull it off, but…man, this just…really suits you.”

They were still standing close, so when Keith spoke, his words felt intimate and secretive.

“Thanks. I actually kindof…designed it? So – thanks.”

“You fucking what?” Lance pulled back, then, eyes going wide. He grabbed Keith by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. “Oh my God…fuck you.”

Keith tried to shrug off Lance’s grip. “What? What did I do, now?”

“Can you stop being so fucking perfect for one second? I mean, come on!” But Lance was laughing. He let go of Keith, only to rub one hand all the way down his face with a groan.

“I’m not perfect.”

“I mean, you kindof are, though.” Lance caught Keith’s scowl through the gaps between his fingers. “Is there anything you can’t do? Is there anything you’re not just unfairly good at?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“But you didn’t really answer it, so…”

“Being good at stuff doesn’t make up for not having any skills that actually matter or make a difference.” When all Lance could do was stare at him in baffled silence, Keith rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Lance. Sure I can draw a cool picture or whatever, but you make friends everywhere you go. You can talk your way out of any situation. You’re charming and confident and funny – and those aren’t things you can learn. That’s the kind of stuff that really matters.”

For a moment Lance wondered if it were physically possible for someone’s heart to actually travel up and get lodged in their throat. He needed to clear his airway, and all of his instincts were screaming at him that the only solution was to say something equally as meaningful as what Keith had just said to him.

Except just in time he noticed the slight downward turn of Keith’s face; the way he averted his eyes and the tinge of red that dusted his cheeks – and so he panicked and did the one thing that was guaranteed to keep Keith talking.

“Either traveling between realities scrambled your brain,” he teased, shifting his weight onto one hip and wrapping himself up with his security blanket of humor. “Or you are just absolutely and undeniably smitten with me.” He batted a hand through the air. “Don’t even try to deny it. I can see it written all over your face.” An evil grin curled one corner of his mouth. “I mean, should I even get undressed in front of you? You think you can control yourself?”

Keith’s gaze landed on him with all the intensity and precision of an ion canon, but it didn’t matter because he was looking at Lance again. It didn’t matter, because it only took a moment before his expression slipped into something casual and smug as he raised one eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh no. You got me. The minute you strip down I’m just gonna jump you.” He made a vague carry on motion with one hand. “So stay in your sweaty clothes all day, or take your chances.”

The elated relief Lance felt each time he succeeded in keeping Keith from shutting himself off was disguised with a casual shrug as he rocked back on his heels. “Yeah, I figured. I mean, who could really blame you. I am quite the catch.”

Keith’s face appeared nonchalant, but Lance could see the slight twinkling in his eyes. It sent a different kind of pang through his chest – something that felt almost like hope. Because that had to mean Keith enjoyed this kind of stupid banter as much as he did, right?

“Oh, of course,” Keith said. “You have no idea how many of your adoring fans I’ve had to fight off through the years.” His tone was dry. “It’s tough out there…to be so smitten with you.”

“You make fun, but is that a hint of truth I’m hearing in there, my man?” Lance winked, reaching for the hem of his shirt. “Now…control yourself.” Never breaking eye contact, he pulled his shirt slowly over his head and dropped it on the floor like a lady’s handkerchief in a show of hidden attraction. He was aware (and in denial) that his behavior had stepped past the border between teasing and flirting. But he was even more aware that Keith wasn’t backing away from what he was tossing out. He wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but he did know it made him want to keep going.

Keith raised one eyebrow, giving Lance a slow and deliberate blink. “Oh no,” he deadpanned. “My impulses.”

The mood was broken as Lance snorted out a laugh, shaking his head and turning away. The new teeshirt smelled a bit musty as he pulled it over his head, but it fit well. “Proud of you, man. Not everyone can resist…all of this.”

Sarcasm was thick in Keith’s voice as he also slipped into his own teeshirt. “How do you ever get anything done, with everyone just fawning over you all the time?”

Stepping out of his jeans, Lance hiked up the pair of cargo pants, tucking his shirt beneath the waistband as he saw Keith do the same out of the corner of his eye. “It’s tough, my dude. But I’m gonna take a wild guess here, and say that realistically, you could answer that more than I ever could. Like, for real.”

Keith glanced up from cinching his belt. “Oh. Yeah. I’ve just got hoards of people lined up for my attention.” He shook his head, tossing Lance a grin like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard in his life.

The vest was halfway onto Lance’s shoulders as he paused, narrowing his eyes at his friend. “Keith. Dude. Bro.”

“What?”

“You ever heard of these things called mirrors?”

Keith gave him a withering stare. “Is this going to be some stupid jab at my hairstyle again?”

Lance rocked back on his heels, pressing his fingers against the sides of his nose. “Oh my God. You’re not even joking,” he mumbled into his palms. “You know what, never mind. But I will give you a word of advice. Since you are so absolutely and obviously smitten with me, from now on I’m the only one who gets to see that badass, sexy tattoo of yours. So keep your shirt on around other people, okay babe?”

Keith’s eyeroll was so hard, it almost took his entire head along with it. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re insulting or complimenting me.”

“Of course you can’t.” It came out on a sigh, and Lance plopped onto his bedroll, pulling on the boots. “How about this, then. Your tattoo is one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen, and if I ever get one, I want you to design it for me.”

Keith sank to the ground as well, his eyes never leaving Lance as he reached for his own boots. “Huh.”

“What?”

“I think you were complimenting me.” Keith sounded like he had just solved the world’s toughest riddle. “Lance, were you trying to say I look good without a shirt on?”

Lance gave a particularly rough tug on the laces as he glared across the space between them. “Here’s the deal, man. Anyone with eyes and half a brain could see that you are one attractive dude. Objectively speaking. And I’m saying that tattoos are sexy, so it – you know – adds a bit to your whole…whatever. So keep your shirt on, or I’m gonna have to be the one fighting off every horny person in this camp, and I need to reserve my energy for getting home.”

He was just stating a fact, he told himself as he felt his ears going hot.

Anyone could see that Keith was attractive, so it definitely wasn’t a big deal. Somewhere deep down, he was sure Keith had to know how he looked to other people, even if he pretended he didn’t.

 

It was just a fact.

It was just part of their game.

It didn’t matter that he had let words like sexy and babe slip into their conversation.

It didn’t matter that the thought of someone else getting to see Keith’s tattoo made something bitter and jealous curl in his chest. Someone else getting to touch –

 

Keith raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “After all that worry last night about things being weird, this is how you wanna play it? Calling me badass and sexy to my face?”

Lance winked at him, overplaying his cards as he desperately clawed for the upper hand. “No worries, here, babe. ‘Cause there’s a pretty big difference between finding someone objectively attractive, and being head over heels smitten with them. Just saying. And back to the real point –“ he rushed on, willing his face not to turn red. “I’m serious about you designing a tattoo for me. I know we don’t have, like, drawing supplies here but maybe when we get back…”

Keith rested both arms on his bent knees, cocking his head at Lance. “Okay, but word of advice. Don’t get it on your chest. They warned me, and I thought I could handle anything, but –“

“Whoa, okay, maybe rethinking the whole thing if it was that bad for you.”

“Yeah, you probably should.”

Lance’s eyes tracked Keith as he rose, taking the offered hand and letting himself get hauled to his feet.

When they were both upright, Keith purposely bumped their shoulders as he moved toward the entrance. “I am much tougher than you, so –“

“Hey!” Lance hurried after him. “I can handle anything you can, buddy. Don’t underestimate me.”

A smirk pulled at Keith’s mouth as he lifted the tent flap, letting Lance step out first. “Whatever you say. Everyone thinks they’re tough, but they’re really not unless they can handle a dick in th –“ He broke off so suddenly, Lance made it several steps before the rest of Keith’s unspoken sentence caught up to him.

He turned around slowly, a look of manic glee pulling at his features – only to find Keith trying to hide behind his hand.

“Oh, honey –“

“Shut up, shut up. I didn’t say anything.”

“Man, you said everything!”

“I hate you so much.”

Lance laughed out loud stepped back to loop his arm through Keith’s. “Uh uh – you’re smitten, remember. And this is very useful information.”

“Oh, is it?” Lance could almost feel Keith’s eyeroll. “You gonna see how tough I am?”

“Hm. Show me that tattoo again, and you might just get your wish.”

“It’s my wish, now?”

Lance slapped the back of his hand to his forehead, letting his knees sag so Keith had to hold him up as they walked. “’Oh Lance,’” he quoted. “’You’re so charming and handsome and – what did you say – you are the only thing that really matters in this world –‘”

When Keith pulled up, Lance had a moment of panic, thinking he had taken it too far. He had been so focused on keeping their conversation going as long as possible, he hadn’t noticed that Keith had guided them toward the spot where the rest of the unit were slowly gathering around a burnt out fire pit surrounded by several open crates.

Still out of earshot of the others, Keith swung around, placing both hands on Lance’s shoulders. He leaned in just far enough to make Lance’s heart begin pounding again, and smirked.

“Better get something to eat,” Keith said, patting Lance on the shoulder. “Gotta keep your strength up for all the apparent fucking we’re gonna do.”

Lance was swept up in the thrill of the conversation – the give and take, the push and pull, the playful insults and the way they kept up with each other.

“Is that an offer?” He heard himself saying.

A different kind of thrill shot through him as Keith’s eyes slowly and deliberately trailed all the way down his body before snapping back up to meet his. “Yeah, I’ll just grow a pair of tits and then we both might be tempted to find out.” Apparently not expecting a response, he flashed a playful grin at Lance and spun on his heels, heading toward the group.

The breath Lance released was closer to a groan and he immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. Luckily, it seemed, Keith was too far away to have heard.

He watched his friend walk away like nothing had happened, silently berating himself because…because nothing had happened.

Nothing had changed between them.

 

Except Lance couldn’t shake the feeling that ever since last night, he had been on fire. Because Keith’s last comment felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of water over his head, leaving him cold and wet and singed.

The only way he could describe it to himself was that Keith’s comment had hurt. Not like an insult; not like a rejection. It was something deeper than that. Another slip up of some secret Lance was not aware of. An admission of something Lance needed to understand in order to make it right.

 

It wasn’t until he breathed in and felt that familiar ache in his chest that he realized he had actually felt happy for the first time in what seemed like years.

Their stupid, unintentionally flirty conversation had made him feel like himself again in a way he had not felt since Keith had left the team.

 

The realization was so devastating – so all consuming – he startled a little when someone’s arm slung around his shoulders without warning.

Looking up to see his own face smirking back at him was the jolt he needed to pull his mind out of the depths it had been slinking down into.

“Keira does that, too. Where she actually starts flirting back and it’s like –“ Alvarez made an explosion noise, splaying his fingers wide. “Like you thought flirting was your thing but when they do it, it just…hits you right in the heart. Or you know. Somewhere.”

“Um…he wasn’t –“ Lance tried to say.

“Babe, you know when you flirt with me out of nowhere?” Alvarez’s comment was directed past Lance’s shoulder, and he turned in time to see Keira approaching them.

“And you completely freeze up because you don’t know how to handle it? Yeah, I think I know.” She winked at Lance – and he reacted the exact way she had just described. Before he could splutter out a response, she wound an arm around his waist and the two of them practically dragged him toward the fire pit.

 

“Oh, and speaking of flirting –“

 

Lance followed Keira’s gaze to the crates, just in time to see James place a too familiar hand on Keith’s arm, keeping it there just a bit longer than necessary as he leaned in to say something.

It made the dull ache in Lance’s chest turn into something ugly and sour.

It made an unwanted and unwarranted image pop into his mind of James tracing the lines of Keith’s tattoo, fingers gliding gently over his skin…

It made him untangle himself from the two with a quick apology, and hurry over toward his friend.

Keith startled a little as Lance slipped an arm around his shoulders, leaning over to survey the contents of the crates, which turned out to be food packs and protein bars. “Anything good today, babe?”

He felt the soft huff of laughter by his ear. “Oh yeah. It’s a five star gourmet feast, sweetheart.”

“Think about what I said, Keith.” James cut in softly, ignoring Lance completely as he reached for a protein bar. “You know this is just a big game, and you deserve something real.”

For a moment, Lance felt how still Keith went, before his body relaxed and he gave a small shrug – as much as he could with Lance’s arm still around him. “I’ll…keep it in mind.”

Lance waited until James had left, pretending to be interested in picking out his breakfast. “What was that about?” He tried to keep his voice light, despite the weird feeling James’s words have given him.

Keith only shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Lance let his arm slide off Keith’s shoulders. “Are you okay? I know our James used to bully you –“

“It’s nothing.” Keith turned to give Lance a tight-lipped smile that succeeded in doing anything but reassure him. “Just drop it, okay? Everything’s fine.”

Keith turned away from the crates, breakfast in hand. Lance hurriedly grabbed several items without even looking at them, and followed. As they made their way over to join the others, he pressed his shoulder against Keith’s, leaning in close. Needing to be close.

“I’ll drop it, but I don’t think it was actually nothing,” he whispered. “I won’t bring it up again, but…if you need to talk… If you need anything, can you let me know?”

He thought they’d leave it at that, but Keith turned an intense look on him. One hand snaked around Lance’s arm, pulling him to a stop just shy of the group. “You too,” Keith whispered back. “We know these people in our world, but…it’s obviously not the same. So I’m here for you if you need, too. I’ll help with whatever I can.”

 

Lance knew that look. He knew what it meant, and he knew how it felt, mirrored back on his own face. “We rely on each other,” he repeated the words from the previous night, quiet and resolute. “We’ve got each others’ backs no matter what.”

 

It was the look they shared during battle, and they held it for long enough that Lance actually caught the flash of relief that slipped over Keith’s features.

Keith’s lips pressed together in the barest hint of a smile, and his fingers squeezed around Lance’s arm once before he released it. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said, before turning and finding an empty spot to sit down at the edge of the group.

It was somewhat ironic, and somewhat fitting, Lance realized as he followed Keith over to join the others – that he had initially doubted Keith’s leadership skills.

He remembered once yelling out in annoyance that Keith was the last person he’d ever want as his leader – yet in that moment he would have done anything Keith asked of him.

 

He had, and always would follow him into battle; into danger and chaos.

He would have followed him to the ends of the universe.

 

And that didn’t scare him, even though it should have.

 

Trusting Keith on this level was just another part of who he was, now.

 

 

The part that did scare him, he realized – as he caught James eyeing Keith from across the group – was that for the first time, he felt that Keith needed him as much as he needed Keith.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4: PRETEND

Summary:

Keith learns some stuff about himself and about Lance.

Notes:

This one is a bit emotionally angsty, so just prepare yourself. Nothing terrible happens, but there are parts that may hit a bit hard.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOUR

 

PRETEND

 

 

Keith POV

 

 

 

“So…you know my sister in your world?”

 

 

Keith cast a glance over at Matt Holt who had sidled up beside him as they trekked through the forest.

 

He was still trying to figure out how to act around the people of this reality, and it was exhausting. He had to continually stop and remind himself he was not actually looking at the person he knew.

He was looking at a person with the same face and the same personality, but a completely different history.

 

It had quickly become stressful enough that Keith slunk to the back of the group as they traveled on toward their base, keeping his head down and trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. It was too strange to look at certain people and know they would not look back at him the same way. They would not recognize him as he did them. They would not look at him and be reminded of things they had experienced together.

 

And beyond the strangeness and the stress of it all – more than anything – it was physically painful to the point of impossibility for Keith to look at Adam Wright.

He had already experienced what it was like to have Shiro look at him like a stranger. And the thought of having Adam look at him the same way felt like the final blow that would break his heart beyond any point of repair.

 

 

“Dude.” Matt’s finger incessantly poking against Keith’s shoulder made him realize he hadn’t answered the question quickly enough. “So are you also best friends with Katie in your reality? Because she and Keira are best friends, here. Or sisters, maybe? Sisters who will murder you in your sleep if anyone even looks at the other one funny.”

“Pidge.”

Matt stopped poking long enough to give Keith a confused look. “What’d you call me?”

“Pidge, not Katie,” he corrected automatically. “And they, not she. In my reality, I mean.”

Understanding washed over Matt’s face, but was almost immediately replaced by a grin. “Okay, but what kind of a name is Pidge?”

Keith’s mouth twisted as he tried to hide his smile. “Apparently one you gave them, so –“ Then his brow furrowed, recalling Matt’s words. “Wait, Katie and Keira…you said they are best friends here?”

“Oh yeah.” Matt rolled his eyes. “Practically inseparable any time they are together. You just wait until you see their reunion when we get back to O-Base.” He nudged Keith with an elbow. “I do mean inseparable literally, you know. Any time they get to spend any amount of time together, Katie latches onto Keira’s back like a baby koala, and they just go about their respective duties like that. It’s annoying but it’s also stupidly adorable so no one says anything against it.”

The twinge that image sent through Keith’s chest nearly knocked all the air from his lungs. His hands balled into fists at his sides in a meager attempt to keep his arms from coming up to wrap protectively around himself.

 

Because this was another unexpected thing Keira had that he did not.

 

 

 

Somewhere along his path, being pawned off every several months to different foster families, it seemed a collective decision had been made that because Keith did not immediately warm up to strangers, he was not interested in any kind of physical affection.

As he grew older, he had found it simpler to just tell people he didn’t like being touched. That way he felt he had some control over the situation, instead of it being yet another thing he could never have.

The truth, unfortunately, was that physical affection was something he desperately wished for. He wished people felt comfortable enough to sling an arm over his shoulder, or pull him into a hug. He wished that someone would absentmindedly play with his hair, or lean against him while they watched a movie.

But the lie had been maintained for so long, it had turned into a perceived truth.

It had become part of who he was supposed to be to others.

It was something he knew he would have to live with for the rest of his life – despite the fact that he would have happily let Pidge cling to his back as he walked them around the Atlas to wherever they needed to go.

 

 

 

“So how about it?” Matt asked again. “Are you and Katie – sorry, Pidge – best friends, too?”

“Pidge is best friends with Hunk, who is also Lance’s best friend.” Keith smiled, an image of their faces surfacing from his memory. “He’s just that good a guy.”

“Right. So I’m assuming he’s your best friend, too?” Luckily, Matt did not give Keith a chance to reply before he was rattling off the story of how Keira and Katie had first met.

 

 

Keith tuned him out, withdrawing into himself and letting his feet move on autopilot; letting Matt believe that he was, in fact, included in that group.

Letting himself pretend, if only for a moment, that it was true.

 

 

***

 

At the beginning of their time together, Keith used to tell himself everything would have been easier if Lance had been less noticeable. It was another lie he attempted to maintain.

 

At the Garrison, Lance had always been drawing attention to himself – shouting out answers or laughing loudly at the center of a group. Taking up space.

Keith had thought it was annoying until one day Lance had a cold and did not attend class. At the time it was easy for Keith to pretend he enjoyed the silence – until he was back in his dorm room, realizing he had spent the entire day secretly feeling like something very important was missing.

 

With Voltron, Lance had always been quick to jump into conversations with a sarcastic remark, or a strong opinion. Quick to catch the eye of a pretty alien with a wink and a horrible line that should not have worked.

Keith had tried to convince himself it was obnoxious, until one particular evening when they were meant to be socializing with the local population after diplomatic discussions had concluded. He had found himself leaning against a pillar, his eyes drawn to the small circle of aliens surrounding Lance as he waved his hands dramatically through the air, relaying a story to his audience.

Keith had felt his stomach slowly sink as he realized with grim acceptance that he wasn’t annoyed at Lance for drawing all the attention to himself; he was annoyed that Lance’s attention wasn’t directed at him.

 

Lance’s loudness was the kind that made everything feel empty when it wasn’t there.

And it was the reason Keith had both dreaded and longed for any glimpse of Lance in the Quantum Abyss.

 

 

His memories of that time and that place were a tangled web of past, present and future intertwining and overlapping one another.

Sometimes it had taken what felt like days for him to recover from the things he had seen.

Sometimes he had thought he would never recover at all.

 

Like coming back to reality, only to see Krolia silently weeping over a particularly soft glimpse of his father.

Like seeing the people he had lost, and waking to remember all over again they were no longer there.

Like catching glimpses of his former team, and not knowing where they fell on the timeline; not knowing if they were even real, or just fragments of a nightmare.

 

Kosmo had been a blessing for both Keith and Krolia, because he was new. He was the anchor back to reality and the present, and Keith knew he would not have come out of it nearly as intact if Kosmo had not been there to bump his cold nose against Keith’s cheek or rest his heavy head on Keith’s thigh.

But because Keith knew Kosmo would be there to ground him afterwards, he had sometimes allowed himself to be swept away by the waves. He let his mind float through the memories; carried along by their push and pull.

 

He watched little Garrison Lance, trying to prove himself.

He watched Blue paladin Lance learning his way.

He watched Red paladin Lance…but those scenes were nebulous – teetering between a self-assured and battle-hardened Lance, and one that walked slowly with shoulders hunched. They wavered between a boy who smiled with confidence, and one who slipped away and sheltered himself in his room, cut off from everything and everyone.

 

And every so often, Keith had watched, and saw a version of Lance he did not know.

He saw his friend turning to look at someone, his face breaking into a smile that made Keith’s heart flutter like a frightened bird.

He saw him cooking breakfast, new scars littering his hands as he reached out and cracked an egg into a sizzling pan.

He saw him looking up, his hair mussed and dark circles under his eyes; a heartbreaking smile stretching across his face as tears spilled down his cheeks.

He saw him surrounded by a blinding, white light, eyes wide and terrified, one hand reaching out.

He saw him waking up in the light of morning, pushing the hair out of his face as a brilliant grin made his entire face light up brighter than any sun.

He saw the others, too, of course. But it was always Lance that Keith allowed himself to float away with. And every time one of those flashes took over his mind, he would come back from it secretly wishing he could have stayed.

 

 

Keith watched Lance, now, from his place at the back of the group.

Despite his insecurities from the previous night, it had taken no time at all for Lance and Alvarez to fall in side by side, chattering away about something that apparently required a bevy of wild hand gestures.

Their conversation soon included Matt, Rizavi, Keira, Curtis, and occasionally James – who seemed to butt in only when there was a snide remark or a correction to be made.

No matter the situation, no matter the reality, this was how it always was with Lance; people gravitated toward him. People wanted to be part of whatever he was involved in. People wanted to be friends with him.

And Keith had pretended for so long that he was not one of those people.

He had fallen so deeply into that particular lie, he almost had himself fooled into believing it was true.

 

 

Until Lance was grasping his hand and whispering that they might actually make a good team after all.

 

 

Until he was giving Keith a glimpse of something he had always wanted – before taking that hope and stomping it into the floor the next day.

 

Until Keith was retreating back into himself because, after all, what else could he expect? What else, except the only thing in his life he knew would always be true.

 

 

That nothing good was permanent.

 

 

***

 

 

They moved through the forest for the better part of the day without incident., pausing every few hours to rest and rehydrate.

Keith kept to himself during those moments, sunk too far into the dark places of his heart to muster up the energy it would have taken to mingle. He caught Lance watching him several times, his eyes wide and hopeful. As the day dragged on, however, that hope slowly shifted into annoyance, as Keith made no move to join the group.

Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have minded – even if it meant small talk – but he knew himself well enough to recognize when any contribution he may have had would only drag the mood down.

These feelings would eventually blow over, but while they lasted it was better to keep to himself.

 

 

***

 

Their trek lead them up the side of a gradual slope. To the right, the trees thinned and Keith could see the edge of a rocky cliff. The forest stretched out below, like a massive, rolling, green ocean – the landscape rising and falling with moderate hills. Beyond, he could just barely make out the hazy shapes of mountains, far off in the distance.

The sun had already begun to descend toward the horizon, and this was where Keira declared they would set up camp for the night.

Keith was so deep within his own isolation by then, he did not even think to call Lance over to help him set up their tent. There was no need to drag Lance away from his conversation. There was no need to disrupt his good time. Besides, it was just a tent, and Keith didn’t –

 

“Need a hand?”

 

James’ voice from behind Keith made him straighten up, shoulders tensing.

The other man leaned against a nearby tree, thumbs hooked in the front of his vest. When Keith turned to look at him, but did not immediately respond, he raised a pointed eyebrow. “He’s not helping you. I think that’s saying something.” James pushed himself away from the tree and took a step toward Keith, moving in a way that appeared casual but felt almost predatory. “I can help. With this and…the other thing. Have you given it any thought?”

“This is just a tent.” Keith hated to admit that he had thought about James’ offer from that morning. Not in the sense that he was actually considering it, but just in the way that it had crossed his mind while he was alone with his thoughts. “I’m perfectly capable of setting it up on my own. But thanks.”

James shrugged. “Oh, I’m sure you’re capable of a lot by yourself. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

 

 

When he had approached Keith at breakfast, Keith had been expecting a fight. Or at least some choice rude words to be thrown his way. The last thing he was expecting was what James had actually offered.

 

A win-win scenario, he had called it.

A chance for both of them to get the closest thing to what they actually wanted, since neither could have the real thing.

 

You can pretend I am your Lance, and I can pretend you are Keira. We’re both close enough to what the other wants that it shouldn’t be a problem.

 

We can just pretend.

 

 

 

Keith glanced down at his feet, unsure of how to respond. Unfortunately James took that as a signal to move closer. He leaned into Keith’s space, lowering his voice.

“You can even call me by his name if that helps you make up your mind.”

Keith’s head snapped up, his eyes locking with James’ in a glare he could not mask. Because there was no way –

 

“Hey, man.”

 

The owner of the unspoken name jogged over, sliding in close to Keith’s unoccupied side, bumping their shoulders.

“Why didn’t you call me over? Let’s set this shit up!” Lance made a show of rolling up his nonexistent long sleeves.

Keith gave a halfhearted shrug. “It’s basically done already.”

James’ hand on his arm made him freeze. He glanced up as James leaned in again. “I mean it,” he whispered. “I genuinely think this would help you as much as it would help me. Just…think about it a bit more.” With that he turned and strolled away, hands in his pockets, moving seamlessly into a conversation with Kinkade and Leifsdottir.

Keith was half expecting Lance to make some tension-relieving comment about the interaction, but when he glanced back at his friend, Lance was watching him – obvious concern twisting his brow and pulling at the corners of his mouth.

And that was worse.

“I told you already its nothing you have to worry about,” Keith said, turning back and reaching down to grab their bedrolls.

He moved to step into the tent and Lance stopped him, carefully sliding one of the rolls from his arms. “You can say not to worry all day.” His voice was oddly subdued. “And I’m not gonna ask. I told you I wouldn’t. But I know something’s going on, and I can’t shake the feeling it is something I should be worrying about. So I’m gonna keep worrying, Keith. Until I know you’re actually okay.”

“It’s not your job to worry about me.” It was the feelings that had been dragging him down all day that made his voice come out sharper than intended.

“Well, somebody’s gotta do it.” Lance’s brow pinched, annoyance edging his tone.

Keith pushed past him, entering the tent and unfurling his bedroll with a snap. He didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t want to talk to Lance.

“Come on, Keith.” Lance stepped in behind him. “It’s so obvious something is bothering you. Is that why you’ve been avoiding everyone all day?”

“I haven’t been –“ It was so clearly a lie, Keith didn’t even bother to finish his sentence as Lance let out a short bark of a laugh.

“Oh no?” Lance’s bedroll hit the floor with a soft thump. “You know what? You and Keira are so much alike. And I know that because I actually spent time with them today. I actually talked to them. But the weirdest thing is how different you both are, too. Because unlike you, she actually joined in. She actually had a decent time. She actually talked to us instead of just sulking around and pretending there wasn’t anything wrong!”

The more Lance talked, the more Keith felt like he was trying to hold back a hurricane with an umbrella.

 

It was everything he had been holding inside.

It was how much he wanted to be included. How much he wanted to join in.

It was Katie and Keira’s friendship.

It was Adam and Curtis.

It was James’ offer.

It was Keira and Alvarez’s relationship.

It was –

 

“You know, maybe I’m not your first choice to be stuck in this situation with, but we are stuck here, and we don’t know for how long. So maybe I could actually help you if you’d deign to fucking talk to me! Maybe if you were just a little bit more like Keira –“

 

 

Keith didn’t hear anything after that.

 

 

Under normal circumstances, his pent up emotions usually burst forth like a volcano erupting – burning anyone who happened to be standing too close.

But Lance’s words drained any fight left within him.

 

Maybe if you were just a little bit more like Keira –

 

It was the root of his darkened mood. It was the source of the tightness in his chest. It was the cause of the hopelessness that permeated any interaction with Lance.

And hearing Lance say those exact words felt like a confirmation of the rejection Keith knew would come eventually.

 

He gave in, letting the hurricane wash him away.

 

He had no energy left to hide how he felt. He had no energy to pretend that comment had not affected him.

He just needed to be alone, because he was dangerously close to breaking down, and he couldn’t have anyone around if that happened.

 

 

As Keith tried to escape the tent, Lance’s hand snaked out and grabbed his forearm. He could hear Lance’s voice, sharp and demanding, but he couldn’t make out the words past the ringing in his ears.

The minute he whirled around and yanked his arm away, he knew Lance had seen his face; had seen the hurt there – because he froze, his eyes going wide and jaw falling slack.

But Keith didn’t have time to comfort him.

He didn’t have time to fix whatever damage he had caused.

He didn’t even realize he had run until he was breaking through the tree line and sinking to his knees at the edge of the cliff.

 

 

***

 

 

Keith had spent so much of his life in survival mode, he sensed the presence of someone approaching before he heard their footsteps shuffling in the soft grass as they stepped out of the tree line.

He pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them, wishing they would just go away. Wishing everyone would just –

 

“I know you want to be alone right now, but I’m not sure this counts as company.”

 

Keira settled down beside him, cross-legged on the rock. They sat in silence for a moment before she spoke, voice soft and calm, “It will be like talking to yourself in the mirror. And if you’re anything like me, you’ve definitely done that before.”

Keith snorted at that, catching her smile in his peripheral vision.

“Besides,” she added. “I’ve probably already had whatever thought you’re having right now, so you might as well just say it out loud.”

Presented with the option, Keith wasn’t even sure he knew what to say. There were too many things to express in one sitting. There were too many variable paths for a conversation to go; too many ways to open up a door that might lead down the road of repression. There was too many things left unspoken; too many things still so unclear in his own mind.

 

Finally, he sighed, letting his head fall forward as he shut his eyes.

“I’m jealous of you.” The words were quiet, muffled in the shelter of his arms. “You are me, and I am you. Except you get to have the things I never will. So I’m jealous of something I can’t change and I have no control over.” The truth tasted gross and selfish on his tongue. “Until we came here and saw you and Alvarez, I had always held onto this tiny hope that maybe one day… But it doesn’t matter what I do. It doesn’t matter if I hope or not, because that doesn’t change the fact that it’s just…it’s just me. I’m the problem with my own life, and I can’t…I can’t change that.” Daring to tilt his head and glance up at her, he saw only understanding in her eyes. “Lance even just told me how different you and I are. And I think that difference is…a bunch of little things over the course of our lives that turned into bigger things that can’t be changed, now. But I’m still jealous and it’s stupid.”

“How long has it been for you?”

There was no question as to what she was asking about. “Years. I don’t know. I think it’s just…always been there. It’s a part of me, now, except it’s a part of me I shut away. It’s something he can never know.”

“You can’t even say it, can you?”

“I said it once to my mom. And that was a mistake because I caught her looking at us sometimes afterwards, like something was supposed to happen.”

Keira was quiet for a moment. A bird of prey soared lazily in the clear sky above them, the sunlight catching its feathers as it banked. “Can I give you some advice?” Not waiting for an answer, she continued. “I also thought it could never happen, and I ignored it and denied it until one day I took a bullet in the gut and was sure I was dying. Lance was cradling me and I was bleeding out on him, and I thought what have I got to lose? so I just blurted I love you before passing out in his arms.” A self-deprecating smirk twisted her lips. “Except afterwards I woke up and he yelled at me, and then he cried, and that’s when I found out he had felt the same way for a long time. So maybe don’t shut it out completely?”

“But you’re you. It’s different.”

“I’m not sure it’s as different as you think.”

“Except it is. At least…where it matters.” Keith leaned back, running both hands through his hair with a drawn out groan of annoyance. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“Hey.” Keira leaned forward, catching his eye. “I know you know he’s not that shallow.”

“It’s not about shallowness, it’s –“ Keith pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets until colors sparkled across the darkness behind his lids. “I know what he wants. That’s always been clear. And you just so happen to fit that mold. But I don’t, and that’s just the way it is.”

Keira’s eyes narrowed as she thought. “Maybe shallow wasn’t the right word. I’m just trying to say that he’s really good at hiding things from people, and I’m sure you know that by now.”

Keith glanced over at her through his fingers.

“Like I said…I had no idea he felt anything for me until I almost died in his arms. Just because you’re convinced he doesn’t feel anything for you, it doesn’t mean there’s nothing there. It just means that maybe it’s one of the things he’s gotten used to hiding from you.”

Keith’s hands slowly sank into his lap as he mulled that over. The awful spark of hope bloomed in his chest and he quickly shoved it away. He didn’t need hope. He didn’t need the fantasy of possibility.

Although, after giving it a chance to sink in, he realized Keira’s words had made him feel better. They hadn’t made any false promises, but they had grounded his thoughts in the notion that even if he couldn’t have everything, it didn’t mean he would be left with nothing at all.

 

Leaning over, he pressed his shoulder against Keira’s as she pressed back against him. Neither moved to pull away from the contact as they fell into a moment of silence.

The setting sun bathed the hills in a warm golden light. A light breeze shifted the hair off Keith’s forehead, and he shut his eyes – allowing himself to simply exist within the serenity of this moment.

 

“Thanks for talking to me. I’m glad it was you,” he murmured.

“Anytime. I mean it.”

“I know you do and that’s –“ Keith opened his eyes, drawing in a breath. “I don’t want to get too…deep or anything, but… You know the theoretical question about would you want to hang out with your clone?“

“The version I’ve heard is would you want to fuck your clone, but then again I do spend most of my time with Lance.”

That startled a chuckle out of Keith, and he slumped over a little, gently knocking his head against hers. “No offense, but…no.”

“None taken.” Keira linked her fingers and stretched her arms out in front of her. “I think it’s pretty obvious we both have the exact same taste, we just come in different packaging.”

“Yeah. Obvious. But what I meant was that I feel comfortable hanging out with you. And that means –“ For a second, Keith’s voice caught in his throat before he pressed on in a hoarse whisper. “It means that I might not be so bad after all, you know? To be around.”

 

Keira’s entire body froze.

 

Keith started to pull away, but found himself caught in the intensity of her eyes as she turned to him.

Fuck you,” she whispered before Keith could speak. “Or – fuck me, I guess. Because I’d say you don’t know what that means to me, but, well –“ Her laugh was soft and watery as she rubbed her eyes before turning back toward the sunset. One of her knees rested comfortably against Keith’s leg. “This is why I don’t believe it’s as different as you think. Because we are the same. Who we are, Keith…it’s the same, even if we’re from different universes, and grew up with difference circumstances.”

Keith almost laughed as she wrapped her arms around herself, because it was the same gesture he often found himself doing in moments of vulnerability.

“The point is –“ Keira’s words were directed out to the far off mountains, almost as if she were speaking to herself. Because, in a way, she was – formulating the thought and letting it loose to the world. “It’s our soul that’s the same, I think. How else could you possibly know the one fear I’ve had all my life? The one thing I never talk about?” She leaned in to him, and Keith wrapped an arm around her shoulder, feeling the same need to be close. “I – I like hanging out with you, too, so it must mean we’re okay.” Her words were so quiet, they were barely audible. “We’re worth sticking around for sometimes. Right?”

All Keith could manage was to give her shoulder a squeeze as he dropped his head to rest against her hair. “You’re right,” he forced the words out, strained and raspy. “Fuck me.”

 

 

 

After they returned to camp, and all throughout their quick meal, Keira stayed by Keith’s side. They ate in silence, their shoulders pressed together, and for once Keith didn’t care if it made him look weak.

It was what they both needed.

 

Keith could practically feel the worry and stress radiating off Lance as they ate. He could feel the other boy’s eyes on him, watching – trying to meet his gaze – but he couldn’t bring himself to look up. Not yet.

 

When everyone except Curtis and Kinkade, who had volunteered to take first watch, began preparing for sleep, Keira offered to switch for the night – for Lance and Alvarez to share a tent, so they could stay together – but Keith only shook his head.

He was slowly pulling himself together, because he needed to get past this. He needed things to go back to normal.

 

He was thankful, at least, that Lance was either actually asleep or pretending to be when he slipped into their tent and curled up as far away from the other boy as the limited space would allow.

 

 

***

 

 

Keith’s eyes flew open, but the visceral dread of the nightmare remained, flickering at the edges of his consciousness like an image seared into his mind’s eye. He lay on his side, breathing heavily, hands clutching the bedroll, as he slowly regained his bearings.

It took longer than it normally did without the cold nose of his wolf to bring him back to reality.

 

The remnants of panic from the nightmare left his senses heightened – so the moment he sensed movement behind him, he was rolling over, ready to fight.

“Whoa, hey –“ Lance stared down at Keith’s hand locked around his wrist, raising his other hand. “Hey, man, I didn’t mean to scare you.“

They stayed like that for one paralyzed moment before Keith let out a shaky breath and dropped Lance’s wrist. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, running a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck as he willed his muscles to relax.

After a second’s hesitation, Lance shifted so he was seated in front of Keith on the bedroll. “The worst nightmares I have,” he commented softly, “are the ones where I try and try and try to scream, but I can’t make a sound. Sometimes I’m trying so hard, I actually end up making this weird, strangled noise in real life. It used to freak Rachel out when we shared a room. Anyway…” he continued, shoulders hunching up toward his ears. “You were kindof…making that sound, and you said last night that you sometimes get nightmares, so…are you okay?”

“Did I –“ Keith hated how rough his voice sounded. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

Lance waved that off. “No worries. I mean, yeah, I’m not gonna lie, it kinda freaked me out at first because I thought –“ he let out a nervous laugh. “I thought you were crying, which is just insane.”

“It’s not like I’ve never cried.”

Lance snorted. “Yeah, that’ll be the day.” He settled in a bit, watching Keith. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“They’re all the same.” Keith’s hair clung to his neck, and he absentmindedly wondered if the strands were damp from the weather or from the stress of the nightmare. “It’s just a lot of…you know, watching people die and not being able to do anything about it.”

“The burdens of the great Team Leader?” Lance’s tone was teasing, but the small grin he flashed was sympathetic.

Keith offered him a one-shouldered shrug. He pulled his knees up and looped his arms around them, hoping the unsteady feeling in his gut would go away soon. “I’ve had them all my life, actually. People leaving, people dying…”

“Does anything help?”

The question made Keith glance up, more out of curiosity than anything else. “Not anything I can pinpoint. You?”

A twisted grin split Lance’s face as he bit down on his lip. “Never had any while I was stuck in a healing pod, so…comas help, I guess?”

That drew s snort from Keith. “Wanna knock me out, then?”

“Not even a little bit.”

The quiet sincerity in Lance’s voice made some of the tension ebb from Keith’s shoulders. Silence stretched between them for a moment as the soft sounds of the night filtered in from outside the tent walls.

 

“This one was about you, actually.” Keith had no idea what compelled him to open his mouth, but as soon as he did, he knew he’d have to elaborate. He could feel Lance’s eyes on him, suddenly sharp and interested, and he brought his shoulders up in a sheepish shrug. “It’s not the first time I’ve had this nightmare. I first got it while I was in the Quantum Abyss, and it just…keeps coming back every once in a while.” The fresh memory of it sent a shiver through his body, despite the warmth of the night. “I see you in your lion, and you’re yelling. Something is going wrong, and you just…shoot forward and get struck by this…lightning? Energy blast? Something.” Keith’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “And I’m stuck there watching. You can’t see me, you can’t hear me, and you’re not responding at all. You’re just…” He made a vague gesture, not wanting to actually say the word dead. “I’m screaming at the others to help you, but they can’t hear me either, and…” Keith shuddered, drawing in a breath and shaking his head. “And then I wake up.”

He had been expecting Lance to make some comment to break the mood; something light and stupid about being in Keith’s dreams – but when he was met with only a tense silence, he was forced to look up.

Lance’s expression was closed off, his shoulders stiff, and when he met Keith’s eyes, it was with the look of someone a second away from bolting.

“You first got that in the Quantum Abyss?” There was no way to tell what Lance was feeling from his voice, but Keith knew him well enough to know something wasn’t right.

He rocked forward, fighting the urge to reach out and touch Lance. “Yeah. Why?”

Lance let his head fall to one side with a forced sigh. “And…I remember your mom talking about how while you were there, you…got visions of the…of your past?”

“The past, the future – I think,” Keith pressed. “Time was weird. Why?” Dread was creeping into his chest, tugging at his mind as if to say you know exactly why, but he shook it off – not allowing the thought to fully form in his brain; not allowing the possibility of it to be real.

Lance sighed again, sounding defeated – averting his gaze. “Oh, nothing. Just that, um…the first time you saw that, it was probably a vision, not a…dream.”

Keith blinked at him, once. “What do you mean?”

Lance’s third sigh turned into a groan, and he tilted his head back, batting a hand through the air absentmindedly. “I mean that…happened. The thing you described. Luckily Allura was there to help me out, but…”

Keith was staring at him, uncomprehending. “No, but it – it can’t have happened because you’re…here. You’re alive.”

“Yeah, well, for a minute or so I…wasn’t?”

Keith set his jaw, trying to breath evenly through his nose. “What is this? Are you trying to get me to cry?”

“Aw would you?” The grin that stretched across Lance’s face was terrifying in its insincerity. “If I died forever would you come to my funeral and break down?”

“What the fuck, Lance?”

“Hey, keep it down! There are people sleeping.”

“Well, then stop pissing me off!” Keith hissed through his teeth. “And start making sense!”

He watched as Lance’s shoulders slumped, all traces of bravado and sarcasm slipping away. He pulled one knee up and wrapped both arms around it like he was trying to give himself a hug. “No one knows. Except Allura. And she never…talked to me about it, so I never…” He rested his chin on his arms, eyebrows pulling up toward the center of his forehead. “I think I…probably should have talked about it, but you know…when no one asks…”

The breath Keith let out was shaky and broken. “You’re serious.” Impulsively, he shifted forward, raising one hand to reach out before pulling it back and letting his fist fall to the bedroll, fingernails biting into his palm. “Lance, you actually died?”

Lance tilted his head until his cheek rested against one shoulder. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, clamping down on it with his teeth as he gave a tiny nod.

 

 

Keith remembered the nightmare clearly. He’d had so many of them over the years, but this one had stuck with him, hanging over his head like an ominous raincloud.

He remembered waking on the space whale, panicked and disoriented, and how hard it had been to catch his breath. He remembered Krolia’s soothing hands on his back, her voice trying to calm him. He remembered the talk they’d had afterwards, where he had finally come out and told her –

 

 

“Why didn’t Allura talk to you about it?” he burst out, realizing only after the words left his mouth how rude they sounded. “I mean…this is a big deal! No one knows?”

Lance’s only response was a weak laugh. “Well…I guess you do, now?”

 

Keith could only stare at him in stunned silence, because none of this made sense. None of this fit with the Lance from his memories – because that Lance would have had friends rushing to him afterwards, demanding to know if he was okay. That Lance would have been taken care of and treated like his life was the precious thing Keith knew it to be. That Lance would have been able to talk to the people closest to him about this horrible, traumatic, unspeakable event.

 

“You can talk to me.” He could barely bring himself to whisper past the lump in his throat. “If you want. If you need –“

Lance’s head snapped up at that. “Oh, no, man. I didn’t mean –“ He broke off, running a hand through his short hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions. “I didn’t say this to put the responsibility on you, okay? You don’t have to…I dunno, fix everything as the Team Leader, I –“

“This has nothing to do with the team, or me being the leader!” Keith could feel his chest constricting and he tried to hide his agitation. “You said we were friends!” He drew in a breath, biting the inside of his lip because he could hear the desperation in his own voice. “You said we were friends,” he repeated, calmer this time, but unable to sound any less desperate. “I know I’m not the easiest to talk to, but if I can help you – if I can do anything –“

 

He gravely wished he had the words to make Lance stop looking the way he did – so small, so unlike himself. He wished he knew how to explain the utter terror of this entire conversation; how the thought of returning to the team only to find it without Lance made his stomach twist into unbreakable knots.

 

Frustrated at his own inability to express how he felt, Keith slumped back, pulling away from Lance before he did something stupid and impulsive. “I wouldn’t want to go to your funeral. If you died. I wouldn’t want to go, because going would mean accepting you were gone.” He drew in a breath, trying to quell the shakiness slipping into his voice. “I saw…I saw it happen. All this time – but it was exactly like one of my nightmares, so I never thought –“ Keith held his hands out to Lance, palms up – only pulling them back and shoving them into his lap when he realized they were trembling. “Do you understand, Lance? Losing you is an actual nightmare.”

Keith’s gaze locked onto Lance’s and held, because it was the only thing he could do. It was the closest he could come to actually yanking Lance into a hug and never letting go. So he stared, hoping he had been able to get his point across; hoping he had not revealed too much of his heart in the process.

Lance was silent, his expression locked in something stony and thoughtful, but his eyes never left Keith’s in the dim light of the tent.

 

“You know –“ When Lance finally spoke, it was with a voice more like himself. “You don’t let on to this a lot. It’s one of those things people have to…dig for, you know? But you…you actually care about people. A lot. And sometimes…I can’t even fathom that I’m apparently one of them.”

“Yeah, well –“ Keith dropped his head, hiding behind his bangs. “You better fathom it, because you’re really easy to care about.”

Lance swore softly under his breath, and then the bedroll shifted beneath him as he crawled forward.

Keith looked up in time to see the subtle shine in Lance’s eyes, and then arms were winding around his shoulders.

 

It had been so long since anyone had hugged him.

It had been so long, and Lance’s body was so warm; his arms so strong and solid.

 

Lance let out a small sound as Keith buried his face in the crook of his neck, hands sliding across the sturdy plane of Lance’s back.

 

Please don’t die.

Please stay with me.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there.

I’m sorry I didn’t know.

 

One hand traced a line up the curve of Lance’s spine, fingers smoothing over the soft hairs as he gripped the back of Lance’s neck.

And for once he said exactly what he wanted to say.

 

 

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

 

 

 

 

“Don’t get all mushy on me, Red.” Lance chuckled, but his words were accompanied by a tightening of his arms. Keith could feel the fabric of his shirt stretch as one of Lance’s hands wound in the material.

“I’m not the red paladin anymore.” Keith pressed the words into Lance’s shoulder, not wanting to let go yet. Never wanting to let go.

“Not being the red paladin anymore doesn’t mean I can’t call you Red.”

“It makes no sense, though.”

“Just because you switched lions doesn’t make it any less your color,” Lance argued, his breath rustling the hair by Keith’s ear. “Don’t question it, okay? It fits you and I like it.” Abruptly, he drew in a sharp breath and pulled away, both arms fully extended as he grasped Keith’s shoulders. “If it helps, though, I’ll only use that particular nickname on super special occasions, so you don’t get too confused. For the rest of the time I’ll stick to normal things like Stud Muffin or Mr. Snuggles.”

He gave Keith a wink and then, infuriatingly, a pat on the head.

Keith let the stress of the evening fade away as his face settled into a familiar glare. “It’s not confusing, it just doesn’t make sense.”

“Um, pretty sure that’s the same thing.” Before Keith could offer a rebuttal, Lance was slipping into the bedroll, wriggling down and flopping backwards onto Keith’s pillow with a long sigh.

Keith watched him, waiting for him to realize. When it was clear that was not happening, he tapped Lance lightly on the shoulder. “You know you’re in my bed, right?”

“My man –“ Lance raised one eyebrow. “We just shared a touching and emotional moment. One might even say we bonded. Either way, I’m fucking wiped. So you can take the other bed it you want, or you can just go to sleep here because I’m not moving.”

Keith watched him for a long moment, knowing he should resist – but knowing even more that he was not going to. Finally he rolled his eyes and lay back down, slipping in beside Lance. “If you drool on my pillow, I’ll stab you.”

“Awww,” Lance drawled, sleep already tugging at the edges of his voice. “That’s so sweet. Have a wonderful sleep, too, light of my life.”

 

Keith waited until he was certain Lance was asleep – until his face relaxed and his breathing grew deep and steady. He waited until he was sure, and then he raised one hand, letting his fingers trail along Lance’s face, tracing a line from his temple to his chin.

“Night, sweetheart,” Keith whispered, letting himself for one moment, pretend it was real.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5: FALLING

Summary:

Lance falls, in several ways.

Notes:

This chapter took way longer to be posted than I anticipated. Mainly because I couldn't figure out how to link the beginning and the end part.
Hopefully you'll enjoy it! :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIVE

FALLING

 

Lance POV

 

 

 

Lance woke up to warmth at his back.

Not the sticky, heavy humidity of the forest, but the kind of warmth that made him want to sink down into it, like getting lost in a big, fluffy blanket on a rainy day.

He nestled back against the warmth as his mind sauntered lazily toward wakefulness.

It was only when he cracked his eyes open and saw the pale arm slung over his waist did he remember how he had deliberately and stubbornly fallen asleep in Keith’s bedroll.

 

 

Even if he had wanted to get back up and go to his own bed last night, he wouldn’t have been able to.

 

Everything about that entire day had converged into a need to be close to Keith.

The creepy vibes he had gotten from James.

The way Keith had kept to himself as the group made their way through the forest.

The way he had avoided Lance’s eyes.

The look of hurt on his face before he had run off.

 

The strangled whimper that had shot Lance straight out of sleep during the night.

 

And possibly more than anything, the relief of finally telling someone else what had happened to him at the Omega Shield.

Not only telling someone, but telling Keith – and having Keith’s reaction be so much more than he was expecting.

 

Do you understand, Lance? he had said. Losing you is an actual nightmare.

And then quietly, face hidden behind his bangs – you’re really easy to care about.

And even more so, his face pressed against Lance’s neck – I’m really glad you’re here.

 

After all that, being anywhere except right beside Keith was not an option.

 

 

 

Gently, carefully, Lance slid one hand over Keith’s arm.

His fingers curved around Keith’s slim wrist, thumb pressing into his palm, and for one drowsy, blissful moment Lance let himself pretend it was all real.

He let himself feel Keith’s warmth against his back and the weight of his arm, and he let his mind whisper what if?

 

What if you could wake up like this every morning?

What if this could be just a normal part of your life?

 

Keith made a small, sleepy noise, and – to Lance’s delight – pulled him closer, his arm tightening around Lance’s waist. He felt Keith’s nose brush against the back of his neck, and he let his eyes drift shut.

He was so comfortable and warm, he was on the verge of sleep when Keith’s body jerk behind him.

In one disruptive moment, Lance’s blissful state shattered as Keith bolted upright – so abruptly that Lance was too startled to even pretend to be asleep anymore.

He pushed himself up on his elbows and glared at Keith with as much annoyance as he could muster in his bleary state.

The annoyance quickly took a backseat to confusion, however, as he actually got a look at Keith’s face. His friend’s eyes were wide and he looked, as far as Lance could tell, actually frightened as he scooted back on his knees away from the bedroll.

“What the fuck, man?” Lance croaked. “I was comfortable.”

Luckily that made Keith pause, as Lance had hoped it might.

With all the adorable confusion of a puppy, Keith cocked his head to one side – and Lance had to bite the inside of his lip to keep all of his feelings from spilling out onto his face.

“I’m…sorry,” Keith stammered. “I didn’t mean to hug you like that, I just…I was asleep, and I guess –“

With an exaggerated groan, Lance face-plantedinto the pillow. “Uuuuugh. Keith. You’re freaking out because we spooned? It’s way to early for this shit.” Bonelessly, he flopped over, glaring up at Keith from his side. “I like hugs, my man. I like cuddles. I fucking love spoons. What I don’t like is having my cuddles or my sleep so rudely interrupted. So next time, how about we wake up like normal people?”

Lance heaved himself up, flopping forward like a rag doll. He let his hands drag down his entire face, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes before hauling himself to his feet with a grunt. He was halfway through a stretch – fingers linked and arms above his head – when he became mortifyingly aware that he had basically confirmed they would be sleeping together again in the future.

 

Although, he realized, brain slamming to a screeching halt, he had said next time, and Keith had done nothing to protest those words or their implication.

 

Arms dropping heavily to his sides, Lance chanced a look down at his friend – only to be immediately caught by the intense stare Keith was aiming his way – eyes narrowed and brow furrowed, like Lance was some tricky math problem he was trying to solve.

“What?”

Keith shook his head. “I just…um. It sounded like you’d…be okay with me hugging you? You wouldn’t think it’s…I don’t know, too weird?”

Obviously there was something else going on here that was going straight over Lance’s head. “Keith,” he said, palms turned up toward the sky. “You do remember we literally hugged last night, don’t you? What’s the big deal?”

“Nothing.” The response was much too quick, and Keith tried to play it off by getting to his feet with forced (and obvious) nonchalance. “Nothing, I just…I thought you’d think it was weird. In a…different context.”

“Hugs are amazing in any context.” Lance spread his arms out emphatically. “I promise you, I will never turn down a hug. Or a cuddle.”

 

Or anything else you’d be willing to give me.

 

Keith was still just staring at him, as if Lance had just grown a second head – and for one moment of sheer terror, Lance wondered if he had said that last bit out loud.

Hands on his hips, he shoved that thought aside, bending over at the waist, and giving Keith a look of his own. “You do know I literally tried to give you a hug when you came back from your space whale adventure, right? I’m a touchy person, and I’m honestly kindof offended you never noticed before.” He straightened up with a haughty sniff.

“I know you like to touch people. I just…didn’t know I was…people.”

As if embarrassed by his own words – a feeling Lance was all too familiar with – Keith averted his eyes and busied himself by tying his hair up into a ponytail.

The act hid Keith’s face from Lance’s view, but consequentially exposed the redness of his ears as his hair was pulled back. “I also…had no idea you were trying to hug me after I came back. I must have seemed like a real asshole to you.”

“Your words, not mine.” Lance distracted himself by pulling on his boots and stepping over to their supplies to use those awful toothpaste tablets, willing his mind to focus on mundane things and not the way Keith’s neck looked without his hair loose to cover it. His hand paused halfway to the supply bag, however, as a sudden realization wormed through his mind. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

The wariness in Keith’s eyes was as plain as day, but he gave a small shrug.

Lance placed a hand on his own chest. “I am okay with hugs and touches and all that. But genuinely, if it makes you uncomfortable I’ll keep my hands to myself. You just gotta say the word, okay?”

Something flashed across Keith’s face, too fast for Lance to catch.

“It doesn’t,” Keith spoke slowly, as if choosing each word with great care. “Make me uncomfortable, I mean. I just don’t know…how to…um –“

Lance waited what he felt was an appropriate amount of time before prompting. “How to…?”

The red tinge seeped from Keith’s ears into his cheeks as he waved a hand vaguely in Lance’s direction. “You know – t-touch people. Like you do I mean. It’d be weird if I…um…”

 

Keith was obviously floundering, and Lance should have been sympathetic and understanding.

Except when the opportunity was just this perfect, he couldn’t help himself.

 

“Keith.” He tried to sound serious, but had an inkling the wide grin on his face was probably giving away his true feelings. “I’m not making fun of you, I swear, so just hear me out okay? I may be wrong, but it sounds –“ he paused for dramatic effect. “It sounds like you are asking me to…to teach you how to touch.” He bit his lip but it did nothing to contain the mischievous glee currently taking over his entire being – invigorated by the resulting glower slowly forming on Keith’s face. “Maybe,” Lance continued, taking a couple sauntering steps closer. “We thought we were in an action movie, but we actually fell through realities and wound up in a rom-com universe.” He put one hand on Keith’s shoulder and the other delicately over his own heart. “You are a duty-bound soldier – repressed and closed off from any fun or intimacy, and I am a simple boy from a large, affectionate family who offers to help you loosen up. I teach you how to touch people, but somewhere along the way…we teach each other how to love.”

“I had no idea you were such an expert on rom-coms, Lance.”

“I am an expert in several things, Keith. I am a complex being.”

“You know I’m not acting out some weird rom-com fantasy with you, though, right?”

Lance pulled his lower lip fully into his mouth, raising his eyebrows and trying to portray utter innocence – although it was definitely undercut by the devilish glint lingering in his eyes. “So you’re saying you…don’t want a hug? Because,” he added, a note of seriousness slipping into his voice. “It’s okay if you do, you know. And honestly you’d be helping me out a lot.”

“How’s that?”

Lance’s hand was still on Keith’s shoulder, and his fingers tightened reflexively as he shrugged. “Like I said, I’m a touchy kind of guy. And being here with a bunch of randos, plus all that time we spent alone in our lions before this…I’m seriously craving some physical affection, my dude.” He waved his free hand in the air between them. “So you’d be helping me out if, like…every once in a while I could go to you and…replenish.”

Keith’s eyes had been fixed on his face as he spoke, and now they narrowed. “That was…pretty manipulative. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

Lance gave his shoulder a deliberate squeeze because it was either that or let his hand slide down Keith’s arm until their fingers intertwined. “I don’t know to what you are referring, my man. I can’t believe you would even think – even consider that –“ Abruptly he dropped the act, stepping forward into Keith’s space. “Oh, forget it, just let me hug you, you big weirdo.”

Keith’s body was stiff as Lance’s arms slid around his back. But then Lance pressed his nose into Keith’s shoulder with a sigh and it was like something inside his friend switched off.

The only way Lance could think to describe it was that Keith’s body melted against his – and it was honestly almost too much to handle.

Everything about Keith had always been fierce and harsh and – red. But his arms came up to wrap around Lance’s back, now, with the same timid tenderness one would use to cradle something delicate and breakable. His breath was soft and warm and shaky as he let his face settle into the space between Lance’s shoulder and his neck.

And Lance was struck with the same feeling he got every time a child had looked up at him and raised its arms to be lifted up. The same feeling he got when a cat climbed into his lap and fell asleep.

 

It was pure trust, and it made his arms tighten around Keith, holding him closer than he ever would have dared.

 

And Lance was warm again.

Warm and safe and comfortable.

And he never wanted to let go.

 

“So…this isn’t weird?” Keith’s voice was muffled against his shirt. “If I ever…if I came up to you and –“

“Shhh.” Lance’s eyes were closed, simply existing in this moment. “It’s not weird, it’s amazing. Now shut up – I’m recharging.”

 

Surprisingly, Keith did not pull away after two seconds, as Lance had expected him to. And since Keith wasn’t showing any signs of discomfort, he was definitely going to drag this out as long as he was able.

His thumb slid over the ridges of Keith’s spine, and for a moment nothing else existed.

There was only the soft rise and fall of Keith’s breath beneath his hands; only the shiver that ran through his body and down his legs with the subtle way Keith turned his head ever so slightly inwards until his nose brushed against Lance’s exposed skin.

 

There was only the way Lance’s heart thundered in his chest as the urge to press his lips to Keith’s neck was met less and less with the sensible That would be overstepping, and more with the emotional Why not just try it?

 

 

The abrupt, cackling laughter of Matt Holt from outside their tent saved him from toeing that line.

 

 

The sound broke the moment, bringing Lance back to reality.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Keith, his hands moving to rest on his friend’s shoulders.

Keith’s eyes blinked open as if he was waking from the best nap of his life – his expression open and dazed, as if he didn’t know where he even was for a moment. Dazed, Lance realized, and something else. Something almost…sad and forlorn; something that squeezed his heart and made his breath stick in his throat.

“Was that bad?” he found himself whispering – afraid he had missed some glaring sign of discomfort.

“No.” The answer was immediate and firm.

 

And Lance was not prepared for this.

He was not prepared as the forlorn look drained away, replaced by a smile that erased the war from behind Keith’s eyes.

Because it was the same way he had smiled after his first day in the Garrison flight simulator – the same look on his face as he had sauntered down the steps and back into the group, knowing full well that he had blown everyone’s top scores out of the water and into the next county.

 

And Lance was not prepared to realize how vividly he remembered that smile, after all this time.

 

“No,” Keith repeated. “It was really nice.”

Lance had to bite his bottom lip – hard. Physically stopping himself from either doing or saying something to ruin this moment.

Except…

What was he expected to do when Keith wasn’t moving away from him?

How was he expected to even breathe when Keith was smiling like that? When his hands were still resting comfortably on Lance’s waist like it was no big deal –

 

 

Lance forced himself to take a step back out of Keith’s hold, letting his hands fall heavily to his sides. “I told you, man,” he huffed out a laugh. “Recharging.” And then, to his own horror, in some kind of out of body experience, Lance felt his hands rise and aim double finger guns at Keith’s face. “Hey, are you a power outlet? Because I’m a data pad with a low battery, and I wanna –“

To his immense relief Keith shoved his entire palm over Lance’s face, pushing him gently but insistently away.

“You ruined it.” Keith’s voice was deadpan, but that horrible, beautiful smile still lingered around the corners of his lips like the last rays of sunlight on a long, summer’s day.

 

 

***

 

 

The sky was overcast when they emerged from the tent to go eat breakfast with the rest of the group. It was a welcomed break from the heat of the previous days, and despite the potential danger of trekking through a rocky-floored forest in a downpour, a deep, longing part of Lance’s heart thrilled at the thought of rain.

He tried to catch the memory as it came swimming past him from some deep, hidden cavern behind his ribcage, but he wasn’t quite fast enough.

Head tilted up toward the sky, for a moment all Lance could do was stare up through the leaves to the grey expanse of clouds beyond, inhaling the dense, earthy scent of the forest as the memory washed over him.

 

Veronica and Luis running beside him, laughing maniacally as they tried to shield themselves from the storm.

His feet pounding across the now slick and muddied dirt road as water and grime splashed up with every footfall, splattering his bare legs.

The blaze of lighting overhead that should have terrified them as they raced toward the safety and shelter of their house – but only served to invigorate their innate need to prove themselves fearless; to face down the storm and make it through unscathed.

The way Luis had shaken his hair like a dog, rainwater spraying the small entryway of their house as Lance and Veronica shrieked before jumping him and tackling him to the ground in a pile of wet limbs and raucous laughter.

 

 

It was Keith’s fingers pressing tentatively to his arm that pulled Lance back from the memory. Keith’s eyes that grounded him and kept him from losing himself to the grief and homesickness that could consume him like a hungry tiger if he gave into it.

It was Keith’s words that pulled his heart back from the edge of the abyss –

“Hey. If we really are in a rom-com reality and it starts raining, I think you’re obligated to teach me how to loosen up and dance in the storm. So maybe you have that to look forward to today.”

 

It turned out, Lance discovered, that it was impossible to feel sad and homesick while simultaneously snorting with laughter.

 

 

***

 

As soon as Lance and Keith had settled down with their protein bars (which Lance would have taken any day over the Castleship’s food goo), Alvarez and Keira practically jumped them. Keira nudged Keith insistently with her foot until he scooted over to make room for her on the rock he’d chosen to sit on, and Alvarez slung an arm around Lance’s shoulders, closing off their mini circle from the prying eyes and ears of the rest of the group.

“Ok,” Alvarez lowered his voice conspiratorially. “We need you to clear something up for us because this is still so fucking weird.”

“We were wondering how much of our lives might be the same despite our different circumstances,” Keira added, leaning forward. “So tell us how you two met.”

Lance caught Keith’s eye, and in that instant he could see that they were going to have two very different answers.

 

Except his answer was the correct answer, and he wasn’t about to let Keith steal away his moment and spread lies around the camp.

 

“Let me tell you about this little shit,” Lance said, batting away Keith’s affronted sound of protest. “We were at the same school and it was orientation day. And we were all nervous, right? New school, new people, all that bullshit. It was all new and I was just trying to keep my cool and hopefully meet some potential friends, and we were ushered into this big auditorium where the teachers started going over the rules and regs and whatever. And then there’s Mr. Too Cool For School leaning against the wall not even paying attention –“

“You hear one set of rules, you’ve heard them all,” Keith grumbled. “And anyway, I wasn’t –“

“Ba-ba-ba –“ Lance snapped his fingers shut in a stop talking motion an inch away from Keith’s nose. “Zip it. Anyway, I see him over there all by himself and I think hey, I’ll be nice and introduce myself to this poor, lonely emo kid.” He had to bite back his grin as he heard Keith mumble Fucking hell under his breath. “And I’m heading over toward him when he takes one look in my direction and just takes off!“ Lance swung his arm out. “He walks right past me like I didn’t even exist and –“

“What?” Keith’s protest sounds surprisingly genuine. “I don’t even remember you from orientation day!”

“He doesn’t even remember me from orientation day!” Lance repeated emphatically. “I was trying to be nice and he decided he was much too cool and edgy to be friends. So I decided he was gonna be my rival, and I would have to be better than him at everything from that day forward.”

He sat back, folding his arms across his chest and raising a triumphant brow at Keith – daring him to say anything further against Lance’s indisputable point.

 

“His rival.” The weight and history Keira packed into that one word made Lance hunch his shoulders, despite it being directed at his counterpart.

“His fucking rival,” she repeated, the full force of her intense stare catching Alvarez like a tractor beam as he leaned away, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth – the absolute picture of shame and embarrassment.

Keira swung around to face the other two. “This asshole was an absolute dick to me for two years because he just decided one day I was his rival. Which would have been fine – he knows I like competition – except he didn’t think to tell me!” She raised both hands, palms up in a gesture Lance had seem from Keith a thousand times.

“Oh, so you’re saying it was exactly the same in both realities, then.”

Alvarez’s arm tightened around Lance’s shoulders, as though he was trying to protect them both from the venomous sarcasm dripping from Keith’s voice.

“Well, if you hadn’t been so infuriatingly awesome at everything all the time,” Alvarez interjected. “I wouldn’t have had to keep trying to prove myself!”

Leaning even closer against Alvarez’s side, Lance had a fleeting realization that of course he felt validated by those words since – oh, you know – they were the same person and all. But he ignored the weird logic of it and chose instead to revel in the cozy feeling of a kindred spirit. “Exactly! Or you could have at least pretended to understand that not everyone was as perfect as you. I mean, we were all trying really, really hard to do well and you just come along and aced every test! You left me no other choice, man!”

In perfect synchronization, Keira and Keith turned to give each other a look.

Then a slow smile stretched across Keith’s face – making Lance’s heart do something stupid and annoying and completely uncalled for.

“You’re right,” he said, cocking his head toward Lance and Alvarez. “I guess we are just too amazing at everything. There was never any rivalry at all. Because no one could compete with us.”

“There was us –“ Keira held her hand above her head, then lowered it to somewhere around her boots. “And then there was everyone else. Why would we even bother?”

“Why you gotta make fun?” Lance groused.

But his pouty response only made Keith’s smile widen into a grin that crinkled his eyes. “Well, according to you, that’s our thing,” he remarked. Eyes still on Lance, he angled his head toward Keira and directed his next words to her. “When I left the team, he didn’t say he’d miss me or anything normal. He just asked who he was going to make fun of after I was gone.”

Lance turtled his head down toward his shoulders, preparing to be laughed at.

In retrospect, laughter would have been easier. Lance was used to being laughed at; he knew how to react to that kind of response. What he wasn’t used to was having someone audibly gasp at him.

Alvarez snatched his arm back, covering his mouth with his hand as he cast a pointed look at Keira – who was staring back with wide eyes and a poorly contained grin. Their combined reactions made Lance feel like he had just unknowingly admitted to the most scandalous secret known to mankind.

Desperate for some kind of answer as to what he had missed, Lance was relieved to see Keith’s gaze sweeping around the small group with a look that mirrored Lance’s own confusion.

 

He barely had time to breathe before Alvarez was pushing back into Lance’s personal space – his grin downright unnerving in its significance that apparently meant everything to Alvarez and Keira and absolutely nothing to Lance and Keith.

“Who did you make fun of?” He asked, his voice far too innocent. “After Keith left?”

 

Growing up in a large family with several older siblings and many older cousins, Lance was all too familiar with being the butt of some joke, and having others refuse to explain what was so funny.

 

It’s okay Lance. It’s nothing you need to worry about, they had said.

Oh, you’ll understand when you’re older, they had told him with a pat on the head.

 

No matter their intentions, over the years of being continuously dismissed in that way, the words started to take on a new meaning for Lance:

 

 

Don’t bother. You’re too stupid to understand.

 

 

Except, despite what others said or how they tended to treat him most of the time, Lance knew he wasn’t stupid.

And he had been in too good a mood earlier to have this swoop in and ruin his day.

 

“No one.” He glared at Alvarez, hoping to make it crystal clear that there needed to be a point to whatever was happening right now. “Why are you being weird?”

Alvarez raised his eyebrows. “Weird? Oh no, I’m just interested in the fact that that is what you chose to say to Keith. That, over anything else.”

The annoyance settled over Lance’s shoulders like a cloak against the cold. “Yeah, because it’s so interesting. What a unique phrase to use on my part.” He flung his arm out, waving a hand in Keith’s direction. “I mean, come on. Who else could possibly even come close when there’s just a mountain of prime teasing material sitting right there?”

Alvarez’s grin was positively malicious as his eyes slid over to Keira. “Mm, yeah. Prime material, indeed.”

From across their little circle, Lance heard Keith whisper. “What is happening?” A sentiment he echoed – much louder and more demanding.

Alvarez leaned back, cocking his head as he and Keira shared a smile that was as secretive and intimate as a confession. “Oh nothing. Just that…making fun of Keira has always been one of my favorite things to do. It’s how I tell her I love her most of the time. It’s how she knows she makes me happy.”

 

 

And Lance only had two options.

Well, three, but two that would be socially acceptable.

 

Option one was to jump up and deny everything to the point where it became ironically undeniably obvious how he really felt about Keith.

Option two was to just roll with it and pretend he was in on the joke.

 

 

Option three, of course, was to launch himself at Keith, tackle him to the ground and start making out.

 

 

As curious as he was to see what would actually happen if he chose option three, there was a strong chance Keith would react reflexively to any sudden movement, resulting in Lance lying on the ground with a bloody nose, which he wasn’t all that interested in.

 

So he relaxed, leaning casually back on his hands and pretending his heart wasn’t about to palpitate out of his chest. He aimed a smirk at Keith, raising a questioning brow. “You hear that, man? Tell me again this isn’t some weird rom-com reality we’ve fallen into.”

There was a stiffness to Keith’s movements and an insincerity in his smile as he tilted his head at Lance and raised his shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t know, Lance.” His voice sounded light enough, but there was a hollowness to it that made Lance’s stomach sink. “I might need another trope or two to convince me.”

 

It was clearly meant as a joke, so Lance let it slide – like so many other things. He winked at Keith and flapped his hands in Alvarez’s direction, launching into a hurried argument that – love aside – Keith (and Keira) were just the absolute best to make fun of, because it was just so easy.

And he pretended not to notice the way Keith’s eyes dulled.

He pretended not to see the way Keira’s hand brushed his and for a moment their fingers linked.

He pretended not to care that something had happened only the two of them understood, and somehow he had been the cause of it.

 

 

***

 

The path they took today required much more concentration than the previous day’s trek.

It wound up steep hills and zigzagged down rocky slopes.

Low hanging branches scraped across Lance’s shoulders, and exposed roots threatened to hobble him with a twisted ankle.

The only solace was the protective layer of clouds that blocked the blistering heat they’d endured the last two days.

 

Despite the little blip of whatever that was from breakfast, Keith seemed more comfortable today. He walked shoulder to shoulder with Lance, trying to keep pace with Alvarez and Keira as the two regaled them with stories of their lives together.

Lance had heard some anecdotes the previous day, but it was different having Keith beside him as they were told of Alvarez and Keira’s own miscommunicated rivalry, and the fight against their own universe’s Galra. There was something quiet and comforting in the way Keith’s eyes would catch his own, whenever Alvarez or Keira would mention something eerily similar to something Lance recalled from their own past.

Keith even joined in from time to time – offering up moments from the Garrison or fragments of their battles and trials with Voltron.

 

There was something beyond words – beyond teamwork, beyond friendship – in those moments when Keith would give Lance a sideways glance before tossing out an offhand comment of “Oh yeah, we went to a space mall to buy something important – and Lance somehow ended up with a free cow.

There was something beyond intimacy and camaraderie as Alvarez threw his head back with a joyous exclamation of “Shut the fuck up!” at the same time as Keira burst out laughing, grabbing his arm with a playful accusation of “Oh, you would!

 

There was something about this whole day that made Lance want to take Keith’s hand and squeeze.

 

To resist that particular urge, he had picked up a stick from the ground, and spent most of his time either whacking it at offending branches, or picking the bark off where he was able.

Anything to give his hands something to do.

 

***

 

When the rain came, it started as a fine mist that settled over Lance’s hair and nose, and made everything smell like home.

The foliage sheltered them from most of it as their little party marched steadily further and further into the storm, but the occasional drop would slip through the leaves and plop onto Lance shoulder or sneak the back of his shirt.

When the rain picked up to the point where they could head the soft patter on the leaves overhead, Lance felt Keith’s eyes on him. As he turned to glance over, Keith’s face slipped into a soft smile that made a shiver run across Lance’s shoulder blades. He barely had the presence of mind to smile back before Keith was focusing on the path ahead once again.

Lance’s nails dug into the stick in his hands, and for one wild moment he was going to reach out and loop his arm through Keith’s.

Because that smile had said that somehow after all their time in space – somehow after spending two whole years away from the team – Keith still remembered that the rain was one of the things Lance missed most about the earth.

That smile said I know what this means to you.

I’m happy for you.

 

It said you’re allowed to be happy right now, despite everything else.

 

 

Lance’s fingers had just uncurled from their white-knuckled grip on the mangled stick – he had just made the decision to reach out and say screw the consequences – when a voice calling out to Keira from behind them startled him out of his own head.

 

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Adam and Curtis approaching, waving down the leaders. They caught up quickly, slipping into conversation with Keira and Alvarez about something Lance didn’t think twice about.

 

Or, he would have not thought twice about it if not for the subtle by immediate shift in Keith’s demeanor – the hunch of his shoulders, the downwards tilt of his lips, the way he averted his eyes –

Wondering for a moment if they were discussing something upsetting, Lance tuned the conversation back in, but quickly dismissed that idea since they were only talking about who would take first watch that evening.

As he continued to watch Keith out of the corner of his eye, however, he started to make a connection – and the more he observed, the more obvious it became.

It wasn’t the conversation.

It was Adam’s presence, in particular, that was making Keith uncomfortable.

 

 

Lance remembered Professor Adam Wright from the Garrison. He had been kind and helpful; one of those people who gave the impression they had all the time in the world for anyone who needed to talk.

Furthermore, Lance couldn’t recall ever seeing Keith have a falling out with him, as he had with several other teachers. He had never acted out in Professor Wright’s class; never caused any trouble or talked back – so it didn’t make sense why Keith was suddenly acting like he would rather be literally anywhere else in the world.

 

Without realizing what he was doing, Lance found himself gravitating toward Keith as his friend subtly but deliberately put some space between himself and the rest of the group.

 

 

Yesterday had been hell.

Even though they had only been on two separate ends of a small traveling party, Lance had felt the distance between them like a black and bottomless chasm.

It was the same feeling that had been a continual build behind the scenes throughout the years they had known each other; a feeling that grew stronger and more persistent the closer they became – classmates, then teammates, then friends –

It was a feeling Lance was unable to shake no matter how he tried to convince himself of its stupidity – the feeling that one day he was going to watch Keith walk away, and he would never see him again.

He wasn’t even sure why it bothered him as much as it did.

It was unlike the idea that he might never see his family again; unlike the whisper of dread whenever a member of the team went on a solo mission.

It was like an alarm blaring through his mind – flashing red lights and sirens wailing – warning him to keep Keith close.

It was completely unjustified and unexplainable.

 

Yet even at times like this, when Keith was only several feet away, he could feel the cold, clammy hand of anxiety gripping his shoulders – a whisper through his mind like a half remembered dream – He’s leaving again. What if this is the last time? What if you just let him walk away and –

 

 

So it was more an instinctual reaction rather than a conscious decision that made Lance change his own trajectory as Keith shifted away from the group.

 

They had veered off toward the edge of the tree-line where the rain was able to break through the leafy covering. To their right, the ground dropped steeply off into a shallow but rocky ravine – and Lance made a mental note to step more carefully as they moved along the rain-slicked ledge.

Keith, however, did not appear to be walking with as much care – as though his mind was somewhere else entirely – making Lance grateful for once of his baseless precaution that kept him right on Keith’s heels, like a worried service dog.

 

 

The moment Keith’s foot slipped on the wet pine needles near the edge of the drop off, it was as if time itself slowed down.

 

This wasn’t the first time the wheels of time had seemed to grind to a halt around Lance – stretching out a singular moment until every possibly pathway he could have taken narrowed into one final decision, unfolding before him like a yellow brick road.

These were the moments when his body reacted before his mind could explain how reckless and dangerous his decision actually was – pushing Coran out of the way of an explosion, flying his lion in between Allura and the threat she had not yet perceived, diving headlong into battle –

So it was no surprise when his hand was already moving by the time his mind even registered the words Be careful.

Fingers latched tightly onto the collar of Keith’s vest and Lance hauled him backwards with the strength that only a burst of panic and adrenaline could provide.

 

As always happened, however, the moment frozen in time would snap back into place, giving Lance one paltry glimpse at the consequences of his actions with no time left to prevent them.

 

The last thing he saw was the terror in Keith’s eyes – one hand reaching out – before his own feet were sliding out from under him, and his momentum was carrying him over the edge.

 

Everything was panic and chaos after that – dirt and rock and branches whipping past him. For a moment in time, Lance felt both the weightlessness of his free-fall and the gravity pulling him downwards.

There was time for one distinguished thought amidst the rubble of his emotions – a clear and precise wish for his paladin jetpack – and then –

 

 

Ground.

 

 

For what felt like an eternity, there was no air.

All Lance could do was lie there, willing his body to remember how to inhale and exhale, waiting for his brain to comprehend what had just happened.

As his brain began to come back online, however, he wished he could remain in the brief fog of confusion and shock, because with comprehension also came the pain.

 

He had landed on his side, or possibly on his leg, he wasn’t quite sure yet. If he moved his fingers, he could feel them slide over a surface that was hard, wet and uneven – the rocky floor of the ravine, he told himself.

Right.

Because he had fallen.

He had slipped and fallen over the cliff edge into the ravine below.

 

But he was able to remember that; he was able to think and breathe, and that meant he was still alive.

That was good.

 

As he attempted to move – to sit up – it became immediately clear his leg was firmly against that action.

Teeth clamping down hard on flesh of his bottom lip, he tried to breathe through his nose in a meager attempt to quell the wave of dizziness and nausea that accompanied the spike of pain in his leg.

 

Someone was calling to him from underwater – except that didn’t make sense, so he ignored it because there were more important things to deal with.

For example, trying to figure out how he was going to climb out of this ravine with a possibly broken leg, and possibly broken or fractured ribs.

With considerable effort, he was able to push himself halfway up onto one elbow – only then realizing the stupidity of that action, being unaware of the extent or severity of his injuries and all. Except by then he figured it was already too late to stabilize his spine or whatever the movies told you to do – so with a grunt of pain, he pushed himself all the way up to a sitting position, his injured leg stretched out before him and his left arm cradling his throbbing ribcage.

That usually simple action had taken so much of his concentration, that he didn’t notice anything else until someone’s hands were suddenly on his arms.

Lance stared at the pale and grubby fingers splayed out against his own mud-splattered skin before blinking away the confusion and raising his head. For a moment his vision wavered – rings rippling out from a rock plunked into a pristine lake – before clearing to reveal a disheveled and dirty Keith staring back at him with wide eyes and an oddly panicked expression.

Water dripped off the strands of his dark hair, running down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. It was a very pleasant distraction, Lance noted, as his eyes followed the path of one particular drop that decided to veer off course and slide over Keith’s collarbone.

“What…” he began, then shook his head. Oh, his hair was also wet. That was weird. “How – how did you get down here?”

“Where are you hurt?” Keith sounded winded, his hands barely resting on Lance’s shoulders as if he was afraid to cause him any more damage. “Can you move?”

“Huh?” Was the only response Lance could think of, since he was still trying to process how in the world Keith was down in the ravine with him.

Because if Keith had also fallen down here, he seemed entirely uninjured – and that was just unfair.

 

 

Keith’s expression twisted for a second, then he was shifting onto his knees, moving closer and leaning in. His hands were surprisingly gentle as they slid through Lance’s hair.

Lance had no idea why Keith was suddenly petting his head, but he wasn’t about to protest.

Keith’s fingers traveled down to the base of his skull, and Lance let his eyes flutter shut – trying to focus and remind his muddled mind that this probably wasn’t the right time to let himself fall forward and snuggle against Keith’s chest.

For the life of him, though, he couldn’t quite remember why that would be bad as Keith’s hands slid forward, fingers traveling along Lance’s jaw until his face was cupped between both palms.

At the quiet sound of his name, Lance opened his eyes to find Keith’s face much closer than he was prepared for. All he could do for a moment was stare into those large, dark, worried eyes and try to relearn everything he had just remembered about breathing only moments before.

“I don’t think you have a concussion. Your pupils reacted to the light. That’s a thing, right?” Keith’s voice was low and soft and comforting. “But just…keep looking at me, okay?”

Lance blinked slowly, an unrestrained smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Not a problem, Honey Bunches of Oats.”

Weirdly, that made Keith let out a shaky breath. “Okay…okay, Lance, you might be going into shock right now, but I need you to listen to my voice. Can you do that? Can you try to focus for me?”

“I’ll do anything you want me to, sweetheart.”

Keith made a tiny choked sound at the back of his throat. “Please stop.”

Those words were so quiet – maybe not even meant for Lance to hear – but it snapped his attention back to the situation at hand.

The situation where he was hurt, and Keith was trying to help.

The situation where Keith wasn’t someone he could just call sweetheart without it being played off as a joke or a jab.

 

“Look,” Keith was saying as Lance tried to blink away the haze that had been creeping around the edged of his mind. “I think your leg might be broken, so don’t try to move right now. They’re looking for a way to get you out of here safely. You’re going to be fine, and I’ll stay with you no matter what.”

“My leg definitely hurts.” The final defense of his mind’s haze crumbled, leaving room for the pain to charge back in. Lance met Keith’s eyes, wincing as his friend tilted his face up a fraction. “I’m trying not to think about it, but – I did break my arm as a kid and I feel like this doesn’t hurt quite as bad? But I dunno, man. Pain was different as a kid, you know?”

Keith’s fingers remained steady and warm on Lance’s chin – his eyes providing Lance with a place of refuge from the throbbing ache slowly taking over his body. “Okay. Maybe it’s just bruised or something. Does it hurt anywhere else?”

Lance took a moment to self evaluate before giving a small shake of his head. The pain was making him feel a little nauseated. “My side where I hit. Might have broken ribs, but –“ He broke off, daring one full inhale, and –“ Breathing seems pretty okay, so maybe just a bruise as well.” A sudden thought made him snort – and then immediately regret that action. “Ow. I’m gonna be so purple on one side of my body, it will be like we are both half Galra.”

Breathing, it turned out, was decided not pretty okay anymore as Keith’s face settled into something heart-stoppingly soft. “God, you’re such an idiot sometimes,” he whispered – and Lance had never felt so flustered by being called stupid before.

Then, like tearing off a bandaid, Keith’s eyes suddenly and disappointedly left Lance’s to sweep around the ravine. He must have spotted whatever he was hoping to find, because Lance blinked – and Keith was already up and several feet away, bending down to pick something from the ground.

 

The fear hit Lance out of nowhere.

Despite everything his eyes were telling him – despite literally being able to see Keith, that infuriating whisper was back in his ear –

 

He’s leaving you.

He’s leaving you here, alone and injured.

 

And he knew how stupid it was. He knew how senseless and insecure it would sound if he called out to his friend to come back.

Yet that’s what he wanted to do, more than anything else in the world.

 

Come back.

Stay here.

Don’t leave me.

 

And perhaps it was his current state of vulnerability that left his mind more open than before; perhaps it was the pain that brought some previously disguised clarity to his thoughts –

But for one moment, all the fragments of scattered memories merged into a single staggering revelation that culminated around the sight of the mud smeared across Keith’s skin and down his pants.

Because that could only mean one thing.

Keith had followed him down the cliff.

 

Lance had gone over the side, and somehow Keith had shown up only moments later, covered in mud, which meant that there was no way he had waited to find a safe way down into the ravine.

 

Lance had fallen – and Keith had followed him.

Lance’s lion had been sucked into a swirling vortex of uncertainty and blinding light – and Keith had followed him.

 

Lance bent over, shoving his head in his hands as it spun.

For one terrifying, mortifying second he thought he might cry – the panic of the fall, and the pain in his body serving as a catalyst for this new and equally terrifying thought:

 

That maybe his fear had no ground to stand on.

That maybe – maybe – it was completely within his power to stop Keith from leaving, after all. And maybe he would find his answer if he was ever brave enough to just ask.

 

 

Keith’s return was announced by the soft crunch of pebbles under foot and a gentle hand on Lance’s knee.

When Lance raised his head, he didn’t quite understand what he was seeing, and all he could do was stare unabashedly as Keith finished pulling his shirt over his head.

“Um…” he began to say something before his eyes caught sight of that fucking tattoo and all rational thought vacated the premises –

A harsh ripping sound snapped Lance back to reality – the fabric of Keith’s shirt tearing, and reminding him that of course Keith wasn’t just stripping for stripping’s sake.

The apology was clear in Keith’s eyes as they once again caught hold of Lance’s. “It might not be broken,” he said, leaning forward and pressing two sturdy branches to either side of Lance’s leg. “But we should probably keep it stable just in case. So…I’m sorry. This is probably gonna hurt.”

That was Lance’s only warning before the loose strips of the shirt were being pulled taught – binding the branches tightly against either side of his leg from his thigh to his calf, keeping it straight and stable.

Lance’s fingers scraped across rocks and gravel as they dug into the ground – a reflex against the pain that shot up his leg. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe evenly.

Luckily it was over before he knew it, and Keith’s hands were back on his upper arms, holding him upright.

“Hey. How are you doing?”

Lance let out a weak laugh, shaking his head. Sweat was beading on his forehead despite the coolness of the unrelenting rain, and his entire left side felt like it was on fire. “You’re really good to have in a crisis, you know that?”

“Tell me that again when the crisis is over.” The self-deprecating smile that twisted Keith’s mouth made Lance laugh again – the sound breaking off into a wince and a groan.

He raised a hand to rest against Keith’s thigh, telling himself it was purely to steady himself and had nothing to do with the fact that he was in a lot of pain and just wanted to touch Keith.

“Seriously, man,” Lance said softly. “This whole thing is a crisis. One giant crisis, filled with a hundred mini crisis…es? So, out of everyone who could have chased after me through that space-time whatever, I’m lucky it was you.”

For a second, Keith’s hand left Lance’s arm, coming up – knuckles brushing softly across his cheek. “Good thing you consider it lucky, because I would have chased after you no matter what.” His voice was gentle. “If you had fallen through that thing alone, you have no idea how lost I – we would have all been without you, on the other side of it.”

 

Only that morning, Lance recalled, Keith had admitted he was unfamiliar with casual touches. At the time, it had confused him a little – but now he thought he was starting to understand.

It wasn’t that Keith had never touched anyone before, it was that all of those touches had a purpose.

Every time Keith touched another person, it was to make sure they were unharmed – to check for damage, to comfort, to soothe, to steady.

Keith used touch as a crisis response, and there was nothing casual about it. It was almost as if he only allowed himself to be physically affectionate with others when there was a legitimate excuse to do so.

That was what Keith had always done, Lance realized –

 

Until this exact moment in the dirt and the rain, kneeling at the bottom of a ravine in an unfamiliar reality.

 

Because everything else could be written off as something Keith had to do…but the ghost of his touch lingered on Lance’s skin even after he pulled his hand away, and Lance couldn’t help but think that that particular gesture had been purely because it was something Keith had wanted to do.

 

Emboldened by that thought, Lance met Keith’s eyes with a spark of who he had been that morning. “You said I.” He stated, a teasing grin tugging at his mouth. “You’d be lost without me, huh, oh great Team Leader?”

“Pain got to you, Lance?” Keith’s eyes were teasing. “You having auditory hallucinations?”

“Nope. You were totally gonna say that you’d personally be lost without me, and then you chickened out and changed it to we. Like a coward. Own up to your feelings, my man.”

A shadow flickered across Keith’s gaze, and when he smiled at Lance again it was as if he was smiling from behind a glass wall. “Even if I did own up to my apparent feelings, it’s not like you’d remember. You know. Given your track record.”

“You can’t seriously still be mad at me about your precious bonding moment from years ago. I was delirious. I don’t even remember shooting Sendak!”

“What can I say?” Keith’s smile was like starlight – a memory of something far away, and long since past. “It was a really good moment.”

Before Lance could respond, Keith was nodding at something past his shoulder. “Oh, hey. Looks like they found a way to get you out of here.”

 

 

***

 

Curtis, it turned out, was the medic of the squad.

And despite how nice Curtis was, he still had one very irredeemable flaw – that he was not Keith.

Lance was in a lot of pain, and he wanted Keith’s fingers stroking his cheek or brushing his hair back again.

He wanted Keith’s soft voice telling him everything was going to be okay.

And sure, Curtis was sweet and kind and honestly had an excellent bedside manner, but that didn’t make up for his obvious not Keith-ness.

 

 

It had been Curtis, James, and Kinkade who had found a manageable path out of the ravine.

They had carried Lance up while he tried to keep quiet, even though every jostle of his body made him want to whimper like some poor, broken animal.

Once they had made their way back to level ground, Lance was laid down beneath the foliage so Curtis could take a closer look at the damage.

Down in the ravine, Curtis had given Lance a large pill and explained briefly that this would help speed up the healing process, but it would basically make him woozy and disoriented for a minimum of 6 hours, depending on the severity of his injuries.

The pill’s effects had already started to kick in once they reached the rest of the group, and Lance could feel his mind slipping in and out of wakefulness.

 

All he got were flashes here and there –

The smell of wet earth; a drop of rain on his cheek.

Fingers on his leg – his shoe being slipped off his foot as gently as possible, but not gently enough. His vest being removed and his shirt pulled up. Fingers against his ribs –

 

Keith’s eyes.

 

Keith’s face hovering above his, hair slick from the rain, mouth moving with words Lance couldn’t make out above the roaring in his ears.

Keith kneeling beside him, not even wearing a goddamn shirt – and still the only thing Lance could focus on were those stupid, pretty eyes.

 

***

 

The remainder of the day was a complete blur.

Lance remembered moments of being carried through the forest, his mind swimming in and out of reality, as sometimes he was lying on a stretcher and others he was riding on the back of a large, fuzzy, and very friendly caterpillar.

He remembered marveling at the sight of sparkly purple butterflies flitting around Keith’s head, making his eyes glow, and then the next moment seeing his friend as he truly was – muddy, disheveled, and tense, shivering in only his vest as the rain continue to pour down around them.

 

They must have traveled for several hours, because by the time they reached their destination, the medication had begun to wear off just enough for Lance to verbally express guilt over the fact they’d had to carry his weight (quite literally) the entire way.

It was Curtis’s eyes hovering over him, now, as he tried to get up from the stretcher. Curtis’s hands gently pressing him down again, and Curtis’s voice telling him not to worry. He was safe, and among friends.

And then a moment later, Curtis chuckling and explaining that yes, Keith was nearby helping to set up the tent and Lance’s bedroll so he could rest comfortably.

Lance frowned, wondering how Curtis had read his mind, and the man was laughing. A gentle hand touched his shoulder, and a kind voice assured him that he was speaking his thoughts out loud. And very much asking for Keith.

 

To Lance’s relief, it was Keith who helped him settle onto his bedroll.

It was Keith’s voice he heard, sounding like it was echoing from a thousand miles away, as he asked Curtis about Lance’s condition.

Whatever was said in response was lost on Lance because his brain decided now was the perfect time to study the way Keith’s fingers flexed as he spoke.

 

Lance faded in and out as Curtis gave him a more intensive examination, gently prodding areas on Lance’s body and then placing his leg on top of something soft and sturdy.

He was given water and food and instructed to rest – to which he thought he may have saluted, or may have asked once again for Keith. Because suddenly Keith was there – dark eyes hovering above him and, to Lance’s utter delight, fingers tentatively carding through his hair.

He must have drifted off for a moment, lulled into a peaceful state by the feel of Keith’s hands in his hair, because when his awareness returned, the tent was fully dark.

 

 

Feeling a bit more aware of himself, Lance attempted to rise from the bedroll. Before he could, however, someone was sitting up beside him as if rousing from a light sleep.

A hand pressed against his chest as gently as it dared.

“Don’t try to move around just yet,” Keith spoke out of the darkness beside him. “Curtis said the more you’re able to rest, the quicker the meds will help your body heal.”

It was all still a blur in Lance’s mind – the day jumbling into a mess of scattered memories, similar to those times when he had been forced to stay awake for more than 24 hours in a row and time had lost all meaning.

The only thing he could think to say was, “I fell down a cliff.” His eyes sought out the shape of Keith barely silhouetted against the darkness of the tent’s interior. “I fell down a cliff and you took your shirt off for some reason.”

The chuckle Keith let out was part relief, part fondness. “Yeah. I guess you really don’t remember much when you’re injured like this, do you?”

For a wonderful, fleeting moment, fingers brushed against Lance’s cheek again.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sleepy.” Lance mumbled. “Spinny. How are you, my dude?”

There was a brief pause before Keith answered, soft and subdued, “Better now that you seem to be more awake.”

Lance hoped it was actually as dark as he perceived it to be, because it wouldn’t do to have Keith see just how dopey his grin was in response to that comment. “Awww man...” he drawled. “Keith, you were worried about me.”

“You fell down a cliff,” Keith repeated with deadpan emphasis. “You’re extremely lucky you didn’t actually break any bones and just bruised a couple.”

“I’m also lucky you’re such a good friend that you’re losing sleep right now watching over me.”

A moment of tense silence followed, broken only when Keith let out a shallow but audible breath. “I’m…only going to say this now because you’re still kindof out of it and I don’t think you’ll remember much of this in the morning.” There was a rustle of fabric as Keith shifted in the darkness, and Lance held his breath. “I will lose as much sleep as it takes, because I’m always going to be the lucky one, here.”

And Lance found he did not want to respond, even if he had been able to. He wanted to remember those words and that moment for as long as he was able.

He wanted to savor every word Keith spoke during their late night talks and store them in his heart –

 

 

Do you understand, Lance? Losing you is an actual nightmare…

 

 

“There,” Keith huffed. “You can go ahead and forget that anytime, now.”

 

Despite his wishes, Lance could feel the tug of the meds still in his system as they called out to his mind, tempting him back toward sleep. He tried to fight it; tried to cling to this soft intimate moment with Keith in the darkness of their shared tent –

“Not like I forget on purpose,” he slurred, the meds making his mouth lag and his brain wobble. “If I could remember all your stupid bonding moments, I would. You just gotta pick moments when I’m not severely injured, my man.”

“You just have to stop getting severely injured,” came Keith’s response. “I think that’s a better plan.”

Despite the way his mind was folding in around the edges, Lance was able to laugh at that. “You flew through a swirly space thingy after me,” he mumbled, trying to sound accusatory. “You slid down a fuckin’ cliff after me, man. We protect the people we care about…no matter what, you fuckin’ hypocrite.”

Keith was quiet for a moment. Then Lance heard him clear his throat. “It’s different, and you know it.”

Abruptly, everything seemed to shift into something somber and chilly – and Lance wanted desperately to be able to reach out his hand.

Because there was no difference, and he needed Keith to know that.

Because of course there was no difference, and that thought should not have even been there in the first place.

But his mind was slipping back into unconsciousness, and he knew he didn’t have time to unpack all of this, now.

“Hey…” he heard himself saying. “Why was the bonding moment so special to you, anyway?”

The meds were turning Lance’s mind to starlight – his consciousness floating through the vast expanse of space as sparkly lights bobbed past him like lanterns on a lazy river.

Keith’s voice drifted along a cluster of stars, stretching out to Lance’s left like some mystical pathway. “It was the first time you’d ever looked at me like anything…more than a rival.”

Lance was shrouded in the shimmering night sky, feeling safe and warm and honest.

 

You’re so much more than my rival.

 

The words echoed through his mind as sleep engulfed him in its welcoming embrace – and it was only when he awoke the next morning feeling more like himself that he wondered if those words had actually been spoken out loud.

 

End

 

 

Chapter 6: PARTNER

Summary:

The group has a break.
And things start to fracture.

Notes:

There's a very non-explicit NSFW moment toward the end of the chapter. But it's not marked because 1) it's barely a moment, and 2) this whole fic is marked as explicit, so some stuff is to be expected.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIX

 

PARTNER

 

 

Keith POV

 

 

 

 

Keith hadn’t planned to sleep at all.

There had been so much anxiety and adrenaline running circles around his mind that even the concept of settling down seemed impossible.

 

Eventually, though, adrenaline had given way to exhaustion.

 

He had laid down beside Lance, Curtis’s words playing on a loop as he tried to calm his mind: It looks like he bruised a bone in his leg, but aside from that he has no serious injuries. No broken bones. No internal damage that I can detect. And these meds are specially formulated to put the body into a state close to stasis which speeds up the healing process exponentially. He should be fine within two days or so.

 

Still, even after all that reassurance, the only way Keith was able to fall asleep was by placing one palm on Lance’s chest – feeling the rise and fall of his ribcage, and willing those breaths to continue throughout the night.

 

 

 

As his eyes blinked slowly open in the light of morning, the image of Lance falling backwards over the edge of the cliff was still there – a dark presence lurking out of the corner of his eye; the reminder of what might have been. He could still feel the aftereffects of the panic that had exploded in his chest as he had scrambled up and followed, ignoring the yells that had warned him to stop.

 

It had been stupid, of course – scaling the cliff side in order to get to Lance as fast as possible.

It was the part of himself he had never been able to fully rein in – the impulsivity.

The disregard for his own safety.

 

In hindsight, it always felt stupid. But at the time, it had been the only thing in existence.

Because Keith had not been able to breathe until the glaze had cleared from Lance’s eyes and he had started speaking clearly. It had taken everything in Keith not to grab his face and pull him into a rough kiss – hands in Lance’s hair, gasping into his mouth – just to tell him how scared he had been.

 

And after all that – after the terror Lance had put him through, he had made everything worse and so much more confusing once the meds kicked in.

Because Keith knew – he knew Lance was zonked out of his mind. He knew he wasn’t speaking sense, let alone thinking it.

But his words must have come from somewhere, right?

 

Where’s Keith?

I want Keith, I don’t want you.

Pretty eyes.

Keith, don’t leave me.

We protect the people we care about no matter what…

 

You’re so much more than my rival.

 

 

It wasn’t fair, Keith thought with bitter longing as he allowed himself one moment to stare at Lance’s profile in the dimly lit tent.

It wasn’t fair that he had given up hope.

He had given up – he had shut that door – and yet those words from Lance’s mouth had brought it all back.

It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t escape these feelings. It wasn’t fair that he knew he would now have to carry them around like a weighted backpack for the rest of his life.

 

 

Own up to your feelings, my man, Lance had said down in the ravine.

You’re so much more than my rival, Lance had whispered in the dark of the tent.

 

 

If only Lance knew that those two things went together. Hand in hand. Neck and neck.

 

The weight of those words had been so immense, the thought of telling Lance while he was drugged out of his mind started to press against the door to Keith’s mind: Just do it. Just tell him. Get it off your chest. He won’t remember anyway…

The idea had grown larger and louder until he had opened his mouth, drawing in a breath to speak as he lay beside Lance in the darkness. But it was only then the reality of the situation sunk in; the fear that Lance would hear him and remember.

The fear – the unthinkable, unshakable fear – that he wouldn’t.

 

The understanding that if he ever actually spoke the words out loud, something would need to change. Good or bad, it didn’t matter. But the truth was too big, too secret, for it to be spoken and not have anything shift.

So he kept his mouth shut, hand pressed to Lance’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

And he convinced himself that it didn’t matter.

 

 

***

 

 

Lance was still asleep as Keith sat up, rubbing his puffy eyes.

Sleep, it turned out, had been both a blessing and a curse, because sleep had allowed Keith’s body to relax and his mind to calm – except now every movement was a harsh reminder of what he had put himself through the previous day.

Of course, his pain was nowhere near what Lance had experienced, but Keith still felt the effects of scrambling over the edge of the cliff. There were blisters and raw patches on his hands from grabbing onto tree roots and digging into the rocky, clay-like earth of the cliff-side. Scattered bruises throbbed along his legs from where he had slid over rocks and roots. And on top of it all was the soreness deep within his muscles and chest that only came from the tension surrounding the absolute and overpowering anxiety of watching Lance fall over the cliff.

 

It didn’t matter how many times they had been in peril before. It didn’t matter how many times Lance’s lion had been blasted with Galra weapons.

 

Watching him fall had been different. Visceral.

 

Lance’s eyes had locked with Keith’s as he went over the edge – staring, like Keith was the last sight he was ever going to see.

And that wasn’t something Keith could fight. No ships to charge after, no lasers to fire with reckless abandon.

Nothing but the blue of Lance’s eyes as the world caved in around him.

 

 

 

The memory of that moment had Keith’s hand reaching out. His fingers trembled as they brushed some of the hair back from Lance’s forehead. He was so caught up in the action and the feel of Lance’s warm skin, he didn’t notice the moment Lance’s eyes blinked open.

Realization only came when his gaze shifted – and was immediately caught in that same blue.

 

Keith stilled his hand, ready to pull away – but something about the openness of Lance’s face held him in place.

“Hey,” Keith said softly. “How are you feeling.”

Lance shifted, seeming to take quick inventory of his body before he raised one eyebrow. “Like hot garbage,” he proclaimed. “Which is also how you kinda look right now.”

The smile was completely involuntary. “Good to have you back, Lance.”

 

Keith was completely unprepared for the way his breath slammed up the wall of his ribcage, like a wave breaking on rock, as Lance’s expression turned soft and warm.

He was so unprepared, some of that emotion must have broken through the dam, spilling out onto his face because –

“Hey, hey –“ Lance attempted to sit up, but Keith pressed a firm hand against his chest, with a shake of his head. Sighing and settling back down, Lance persisted. “Keith, come on, it wasn’t…it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

 

And what was the point, Keith thought, struggling to hold himself together. Struggling to breathe against the weight pressing down on his chest. What was the point of concealing how he really felt about what had happened? It was only Lance, here with him. No one to judge him if he didn’t hold it together. No one reprimand him for maintaining a stoic, leader facade.

 

He let his eyes drift down to meet Lance’s, and saw his friend’s face fall.

“I thought it was for a minute, there,” Keith whispered. “It could have been really bad.”

The corners of Lance’s mouth turned down in a scowl before he jabbed a finger to the space beside him. “You won’t let me sit up, so you come down here.”

“What?”

“Keith! Just – just come here, okay?”

Slowly, bewildered, Keith complied – settling down onto his side, face turned toward Lance.

When Lance also turned his face toward Keith, they were so close, Keith felt like he was drowning in the blue of Lance’s eyes.

“I never thought I’d have to say something like this,” Lance began. “But…I’m fine. Keith, I promise you I’m okay. Yeah, it was a pretty stupid thing to do, but it all worked out in the end, so –“

“You could have died.” And then Keith’s emotions took full control of his words as he whispered, low and desperate, “Again.”

The word fell between them – seeping into the air they breathed, settling in the intimate space between their faces.

 

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispered, and it felt like understanding. “I know it could have been bad. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

And something about that understanding between them sparked bravery in Keith’s chest. Bravery that made him reach out and take Lance’s hand, pulling it against his own chest.

It was Lance who spoke eventually, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m still…getting used to the fact that you care a lot more than I thought you did.”

 

It’s even more than that.

 

But Keith didn’t say it.

As quickly as it had come, his courage washed away.

Still, he cradled Lance’s hand against his chest and didn’t let go.

 

 

 

***

 

 

Curtis came to check on Lance soon after they had awoken, and was nice enough to explain the situation again, now that Lance was in a mind space to actually comprehend it.

“You’ll be off your feet for a day or so. Maybe not even that.” Curtis said. “Thanks to our genius science team back at O-Base, the meds we have make the healing process significantly reduced. Normally something like this would take at least two weeks to fully heal, but you can probably already feel how far your body has come since yesterday.”

Keith had watched as Lance’s hand began to fidget throughout Curtis’ explanation. He had a feeling he might know what was wrong, and it was confirmed when Lance opened his mouth.

“So what’s going to happen to me?”

Curtis paused, one hand shoved into his med bag. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…you can’t afford to wait here a day, and I’m not gonna let anyone have to literally carry me again, so…”

 

 

Curtis had a kind face.

 

Due to their schedule with Voltron and the Atlas, Keith hadn’t had much of an opportunity to get to know Curtis in their reality. He’d had dinner with him and Shiro once, and Curtis seemed nice enough, but he didn’t know him like he had known Adam.

 

Looking at him, now, however, as the realization of what Lance was saying sunk in… Keith thought he could understand what had drawn Shiro to this man. Because if there was anything Shiro needed in a partner, it was a heart to match his own.

 

Curtis placed a gentle hand on Lance’s arm.

“Lance. We’re going to wait here and let you recover. We can afford to wait one more day, and you may even be back on your feet by this evening with the rate you’re recovering.” His warm, brown eyes flicked to Keith’s for a moment, before he added with a small smile, “Honestly, we all could use some rest. We haven’t heard nor seen the Galra for days, now, and this will be the perfect spot for us to take a breather.”

 

During all the internal mayhem and worry of yesterday’s events, Keith had paid exactly zero attention to everyone except Lance.

But now, as Curtis gave Lance’s arm another pat before rising to his feet and moving toward the tent flap, Keith felt the strange need to follow him; to learn more about this man while he had the chance.

 

Once outside, Curtis turned to Keith with one expectant brow raised. “I think I’ve stated it enough, but I know worry is weird – so I guess I can tell you again?”

“Tell me –?”

“How your Lance is going to be perfectly fine and you can stop worrying.” The words were were kind and almost amused.

“He’s not my –“ Keith shook it off, grabbing the man by his elbow. “That’s not what I wanted to… I mean…” He sighed, shoulders slumping. What was he trying to say, really? What was he even doing?

As Curtis waited for Keith to gather his words, all he could think about was how patient Adam had also been.

 

Patient and calm, until their last conversation, that was.

 

“I don’t know if it’s all the same here,” Keith began. “But Shiro is basically my brother in my own reality. And you and he are…um, together?”

Curtis’ eyes went abruptly, comically wide, and Keith rushed on.

“I’m not trying to offend you if that’s not how you feel, here, but if it is…I just wanted to say that I’m a bit protective over him because of everything he’s been through, but I…I can see why he likes you. When I get back I think I want to get to know you – the other you – better, I guess is what I’m trying to say.”

“Takashi Shirogane?” There was an odd note of something in the man’s voice – something that sounded almost like awe. “Takashi Shirogane is into me? In your reality? He’s in a relationship with…me?”

Keith hunched his shoulders, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. “Yeah? Again, I didn’t mean to –“

Curtis clapped him on the shoulder, a slightly hysteric laugh escaping his mouth. “I can’t believe it! Just wait until I tell Adam!”

At the mention of that name, Keith blanched. “Okay, maybe just forget I said anything. I don’t know what history you all have here, but it’s obviously not the same as –“

“History?” Curtis leaned in, grinning. “History with Takashi motherfucking Shirogane? We have zero history with him. He’s so far out of anyone’s league, the most we can do is admit our collective crushes on him and say that he’s at the top freebie spot on both of our lists.”

Keith pressed his palms together, holding his hands up against his mouth as he inhaled. This conversation had gone so far off the rails from what he expected, he wasn’t even sure what to say anymore.

“But you’re saying he’s actually into me in your world, so that might mean he’d be into me here, too! I might actually have a shot!” Abruptly, Curtis swung away from Keith’s personal space, calling out across the campsite. “Hey, Adam! You’ve got to hear this, you’ll never believe it!”

 

Immediately everything Keith had been feeling was sucked away from the shore of his mind, making room for the tsunami of guilt and shame to flood in. He watched, frozen, as Adam turned and started heading their way.

And Keith couldn’t look at him.

He couldn’t hear his voice.

He couldn’t be near him.

 

He needed to get as far away as possible.

 

 

It was rude to turn and hurry off without tact or excuse.

It was rude to make it so obvious that it was because of Adam.

But on some occasions – even for a person who had faced down war and death – panic left no room for politeness.

 

Keith’s feet carried him into the depths of the forest before he could even pull himself together enough to slow down and realize what he had done.

Tree bark was rough and cold against his hands – but it was a solid, tangible thing that helped ground him.

He leaned against the tree, hair hanging in his face as he tried to catch his breath and calm his racing heart.

 

But his feet were still, now, and it allowed the feelings been running from time to catch up.

 

Guilt.

Shame.

Regret.

Loss.

The emotions that permeated every memory of the people he’d allowed himself to love.

 

 

***

 

 

Adam had been dating Shiro for three years when Keith joined the Garrison program.

Like every other student, part of his curriculum had been Calculus with Professor Wright. However, unlike the others, Keith had been given the privilege of experiencing who Adam was outside of his classroom.

And as much as Keith loved Shiro as his brother, Adam had also been special to him in a way he had never admitted out loud to anyone.

Not even to Adam, himself.

 

 

 

On the first night Shiro had invited Keith to dinner at their apartment, he hadn’t wanted to go. He hated small talk, and especially hated small talk with adults who clearly pitied him because of his circumstances. After some wheedling, Shiro had convinced Keith to go – and he had secretly, preemptively decided to slip out the bathroom window and escape after he’d had some food.

When he had begrudgingly knocked on the door, dread twisting his gut, Shiro had opened it and let him in. Upon entering the warmly lit, cozy place, Keith had been immediately greeted by a delicious smell and the sight of Adam waving from the kitchen wearing an apron that read “Your Opinion Wasn’t in the Recipe.”

They’d had mac and cheese, and it had been the best meal Keith had ever had in his life.

Adam had made him feel comfortable by telling lame jokes and stories about why Shiro was never, ever allowed in the kitchen. He had not prompted Keith to talk about his childhood or any subjects others often pried into, Moreover, he had spoken to Keith as an adult and an equal participate in the conversation, which had come as a complete and pleasant surprise.

 

After that first night, dinner at their apartment had become a semi-regular event, and the more time they all spent together, the more Keith was drawn out of his shell like a curious hermit crab.

 

 

 

The incident that had solidified his love for Adam, however, had occurred roughly six months into his time at the Garrison.

 

It hadn’t been the first fight Keith had gotten into, but he knew better than anyone that there was only a finite amount of disruptive behavior adults would endure before they decided to remove the source of the problem.

So he had stayed where the other boys had left him – hidden behind the chemistry lab with blood running from his nose, scrapes across his cheek, and a hand that throbbed more and more the longer he sat there.

The walk from the chemistry building to his dorm was a long one, and the only path between the two locations had him passing through several crowded areas, with other students and teachers milling about. So he had sat there, trying to figure out exactly how he was going to to navigate that distance without drawing attention to himself or his bloody uniform.

Keith knew from experience that it didn’t matter why the fight had started, and it didn’t matter who threw the first punch. Kids without homes – kids without parents to back them up – were easy to blame. They were easy to get rid of.

An easy solution to the problem.

 

 

Keith had been so caught up with the issue of making it back to his room, he hadn’t realized someone else was there until he was looking up at Adam with wide, terrified eyes before trying to hide his face – hoping that somehow the man had missed the blood.

Adam had crouched down in front of Keith, placing his stack of books and papers on the ground, and all he had said was, “Keith, let me see.”

 

Keith had tried to get him to leave. He had tried to tell him it was fine. That he was fine, he had just fallen or walked into a pole or some other lame excuse that wasn’t fooling anyone.

Except after all that, Adam had reached out for him, and gently tilted his head back, prying his hands away. After confirming that Keith’s nose didn’t look broken, he had taken some tissues out of his jacket pocket and pressed them to his tender nose.

As Adam had examined his face, Keith had watched him – waiting for the moment he knew was coming. Waiting for the long, shameful walk to the Director’s office and the expulsion that was sure to follow.

 

Waiting for him to say it was time for Keith to move on.

 

His brain had hyper-focused on that one idea at the expense of all else, so when Adam finally asked what had happened, he had been the one to blurt out that he would start packing his things, and he’d be gone by the evening.

Adam’s brow had creased in what Keith took for anger – so he kept speaking; words spilling from his mouth that he had never intended. He told the man how sorry he was. He told him how he had let him and Shiro down. He told him how grateful he was for all they’d done, and how they’d treated him.

He had not stopped babbling until Adam had reached out and pulled Keith against his chest, holding him there despite the blood. Holding him there, even as Keith realized how much he was crying.

It was only after he had calmed down that Adam explained gently that they would not be sending him away. That he knew Keith had not simply fallen, and that all he wanted to know was why this had happened.

 

All he had wanted to do was make sure Keith was okay.

 

And it was only because Keith’s walls had momentarily crumbled, he was able to admit that some of the other boys from his class had targeted him. Targeted him specifically because they had somehow learned or guessed he wasn’t interested in girls. And Keith hadn’t cared – it was all stuff he’d heard before. Except the boys had made some choice comments on why Keith was still at the Garrison that had everything to do with a very particular relationship between him and Shiro – and that was something Keith would not let slide.

He knew he deserved the shit people said about him, but Shiro did not.

Not the first person who had shown him actual kindness since his own father died.

Not Shiro, who was always kind to everyone – who never in a million years deserved to be dragged down to Keith’s level.

 

 

It had been the first time he had seen anger that wasn’t sudden and violent.

The fury had built behind Adam’s eyes like a pot slowly brought to boil. It made his jaw clench and the corners of his mouth turn down in a scowl. It made his voice low and sharp as he informed Keith that everything would be all right. That he would take care of this.

The fury had burned through the heat of Adam’s skin as he had reached down and helped Keith to his feet, placing one hand on his shoulder as he steered them toward the nurse’s office.

 

Keith knew anger. He knew fury and rage. He knew all those wild emotions that made people lash out and destroy.

 

But for the first time, he had not been afraid.

And he hadn’t understood why.

 

 

 

That moment had stuck with Keith all through the night and during his morning classes the following day. It had been a welcome distraction from the stares and whispers directed toward the bruised skin underneath his eyes and the bandage around his hand.

He had kept his head down and ignored it all, trying to figure out why it had been comfort he’d felt from Adam’s anger instead of fear.

 

 

 

Professor Wright had been standing at the head of the classroom as they all shuffled in and took their seats. He had watched them, arms folded and face stern as they settled down and got ready for another day of problem solving.

Except Adam had explained to the class that today they would be focusing on a different kind of problem solving before the lesson began.

Keith had hunched his shoulders and let his hair obscure his face as he prepared to have the attention put on him; prepared to be laughed at and talked about behind his back even more than he already was.

It was only when Adam had begun speaking that Keith looked up – drawn out of his own mind by sheer confusion.

Because Adam had told them about his own childhood.

 

He had told them how he had been thirteen years old when his family had disowned him; how he had spent three years living on the streets, believing he would die before the age of eighteen. And he had explained that it was all because of who he loved.

How idiotic and wrong a concept it was, he had mused, to turn someone away and give up on them because they lived a different life than you. How utterly silly and simplistic, because everyone had different lives. Everyone had different beliefs and views and opinions.

How heartbreaking it was to lose the family you loved – the family you still loved, despite everything – because they could not accept the person you were meant to be.

The Garrison, he had continued, was an institute that prided itself on accepting students for their abilities and potential, which meant that everyone in attendance had earned their place within the student body.

They were training to be space explorers, he had added. Which meant the most important thing they could learn was not the math or physics or mechanics of a space craft. It was that the people surrounding them – their peers – may one day be part of a team they would be working closely with. And that everyone here had skills necessary to becoming an amazing astronaut…but they wouldn’t get anywhere if they lacked empathy and teamwork.

 

 

It had only been after classes had finished and Keith had sequestered himself in his dorm that he understood.

 

Anger did not always have to be violent and loud. Sometimes it was quiet and calm. Sometimes it could be used to stand up for others.

And maybe his own experiences did not need to drag him down. Maybe he could use them to make himself into someone worthy of support.

Maybe he could really try to be a bit more like Shiro and like Adam.

 

 

Maybe things would actually be okay.

 

 

And things had been okay for a while.

Until Shiro went missing.

Until Adam yelled at Keith for the first time that he needed to just grow up and let it go; that Shiro was gone, and nothing Keith did could ever bring him back.

 

Until Keith got kicked out of the Garrison.

 

 

And then, further down the line, things had gotten better again.

 

Until Keith learned that Adam had died.

Until he had never gotten a chance to apologize, or say goodbye.

 

Until Adam became just another name in a long list of people who had left.

 

 

***

 

 

A twig snapped behind Keith, making him whirl around, his heart flying into a panic.

 

“I’ve been trying to figure out a way to say this –“

Adam leaned against a nearby tree, folding his arms across his chest, and Keith didn’t want to look at him. He didn’t want to see this exact copy of the man he knew because the one thing he needed from Adam was the thing this version could never give.

Because this Adam had never fought with Keith.

This Adam had never died.

This Adam would not understand Keith’s apology.

 

“But this is a weird situation all around, so I’m just going to…say it.” The man pushed himself away from the tree and took one step closer to Keith who had to squeeze his fists at his sides to stop himself from backing away. “Whatever happened between you and my counterpart in your universe, I want you to know, I am not him. We don’t have the same history.”

When Keith only stared, Adam let out a long sigh. “Look, you have been very obvious about avoiding me. I may have bad eyesight, but I’m not blind.”

“No, I’m…” Keith fought for the proper words – for some reasonable explanation, but it was like trying to catch a fish in a puddle. “I’m not meaning to, it’s just…hard looking at you sometimes. I’ll get over it.”

A flicker of something passed across Adam’s face. Confusion? Guilt? “Okay, that’s…disquieting. Do you mind if I ask what happened?” His next words were hesitant, as if he feared the answer. “Did I – he – hurt you somehow?”

Keith opened his mouth to protest. To deny it.

Except he made the mistake of looking up in the split second before he spoke.

And it was Adam’s face staring back at him.

The same concern he had seen so many times. The same expression.

 

So it wasn’t denial that spilled from his mouth, it was something much, much worse.

 

 

“You were the closest thing I had to a father since my own dad passed away.”

 

 

The words lingered in the quiet of the forest, disrupted only by the soft shifting of leaves and the trill of an insect.

The words Keith had never planned to speak out loud.

The truth that had been digging claws into his heart for years.

 

Speaking them now was so jarring, Keith physically stumbled backwards, holding up his hands to steady himself.

Except it wasn’t Keith who steadied himself, it was Adam’s hands grasping his trembling ones.

 

And Keith was thirteen years old again, hiding behind the chemistry building, waiting for the inevitable.

 

“Our last conversation, we yelled at each other. And…and I spent years planning out my apology.” Keith’s breath was sticking in his chest, but the words seemed to have a life of their own. “I figured out exactly what I wanted to say to you, but then we finally got home and…” His entire body felt stiff and jerky, his muscles seizing up as he tried to contain his trembling. “They told us you had died trying to defend the Garrison. Two weeks before we got there. So if we had just been a bit faster – if I had been a better leader –“ His breath felt sharp in his lungs and he tore himself out of Adam’s hold, using every last ounce of his willpower to pull his emotions back in check. “Fuck. I’m sorry. It’s not you. I know it’s not you. Just forget what I said, okay?”

 

Silence stretched between them as Keith held his breath.

Then Adam let out a very long and vocal breath. “Well. Let me tell you…whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that.”

Keith wanted to crawl under a rock and live out the rest of his life as a grub. “Like I said, just forget it.”

“I’d actually rather not.”

It was the same tone, the same kindness, in Adam’s voice that made Keith glance at him.

The moment he did, he was back in school, watching Adam casually pace in front of the white board at the head of the classroom.

It had been the same, then – brow furrowed, one finger tapping against his chin as his glasses slipped down his nose.

Professor Face, Shiro had called it.

 

“Let me wrap my head around this for a second. Your version of me, he didn’t legally adopt you, did he?”

Keith shook his head.

“But you did see him as a father figure.” This time it wasn’t a question, it was an organization of facts. “And the last time you saw him you had a fight, and he died before you got the chance to apologize. So it’s hard to look at me because I have his face and his everything, but not his memories.”

“Y…yeah.”

Finally Adam turned to Keith, one hand on his hip. “You can still apologize to me, if you need.”

“But…you didn’t do any of those things. You’re the same but not in the way it counts.” Just like me, Keith’s treacherous mind whispered before he could silence it.

“Then your only other option is to apologize to him when you get back to your reality.” As Keith opened his mouth, Adam waved his words off with an annoyed tutting sound. “It still counts, even if the person isn’t around to hear it. Sometimes it’s more about you getting to actually say the words rather than having someone hear them.”

Adam patted Keith on the shoulder, chuckling a little at the confusion on his face. “Keith. Have you never stood in front of a mirror and had a completely fabricated conversation with someone from your life? And then afterwards, even though it wasn’t a real conversation, you still felt better because you were able to voice your thoughts even though no one was around to hear them?”

“I…guess.”

“Then there you have it! It’s the same concept. So if you need to use me as a catalyst for your apology then just come find me, okay?” Adam’s face softened. “Until then, can I offer you a hug? If your Adam and I were the same, you must know I’m a really good hugger.”

Keith let out a breath, caught somewhere between a wheeze and a laugh. When he nodded, Adam stepped forward, and suddenly Keith was wrapped up in familiarity.

It took him back to brightly lit dinners, surrounded by laughter. To talks on an uncomfortable Garrison-issued couch, an arm wrapped around his shoulders. To feelings of safety; of being accepted, of being okay.

“I think it’s incredible that your Adam was like a father to you. I’m happy he got to fill that void left by your own dad.” Adam’s words were soft and soothing in Keith’s ear, and for a moment he allowed himself to shut his eyes and pretend. Pretend he was back in that cozy apartment. Pretend the man he knew was still with him, in this moment. “Family is important, no matter where you find it.”

 

 

***

 

 

Keith’s emotions were worn thin by the time he returned to the tent he shared with Lance.

He could feel the toll the days had been taking on him – not only the stress of Lance’s accident, but…

Ever since they arrived in this reality?

Ever since he returned to Voltron and took up the mantle of leader again?

Ever since he left to –

 

Keith shook those thoughts out of his head as he entered the tent, because the more he realized just how long he had been hanging on, the more exhausted is made him feel.

 

Lance was sitting up when Keith stepped inside, handing Lance the protein bar he’d grabbed from the food rations.

Despite being awake and alert, Lance was unusually quiet, taking the food with only a half-hearted smile and eating it in silence as Keith sat down beside him to do the same.

 

Keith struggled under the heaviness of the silence, wondering if he should ask what was wrong, or if whatever was causing this was a personal matter Lance wasn’t comfortable talking about.

When Lance finally heaved a sigh, his fingers fiddling with the wrapper, folding and unfolding it in his lap, Keith held his breath.

Sooooooo…” Lance stretched the word out. “Curtis said you ran off to have a big emotional talk with Adam about something.” He wouldn’t look at Keith, but it was obvious something was bothering him by the way he twisted the protein bar wrapper in his hands.

Lance bit his lip for a second, giving his head one sharp, little shake. “I’m not trying to pry. I promise I’m not. But…this is…this is the second time you’ve run off and had a talk with someone…um…else.” Suddenly his eyes were on Keith. “If I’m doing anything to… I mean, if there’s anything I’m doing to make you uncomfortable, or…” For once, it seemed Lance was the one struggling to find the words. “I guess what I want to say is that you can always talk to me. If you want. If you need to get something off your chest. You can talk to me.”

Keith’s brow furrowed. “Um. Okay?” he said slowly. “Do you…need to talk to me about something?”

The hesitancy in Lance’s expression shifted to something a bit sharper, and Keith’s stomach sank.

Lance rolled his neck, one hand raising to run through his hair as he let out a tired groan. “Okay. Yeah. You know what? Yes I do want to talk about something. I had hoped this would’ve… nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

 

Keith found himself caught in Lance’s gaze, still not sure if he had actually started breathing again.

 

“I know something is wrong.” The words left Lance like he’d been holding them in for a long, long time. “I know something is going on with you, and I know it’s been going on for a while, now. And…I also know you don’t like to talk about stuff but…sometimes it’s not good to hold everything in all the time.”

 

Throughout Keith’s life, he was often told he had walls up. In the beginning he didn’t realize what it had meant.

But he felt it, now.

He heard Lance’s words, and he felt the barrier slamming into place.

He felt the divide between them, built brick by metaphorical brick, cemented in place with whispers of It’s none of your business and You won’t even care. You’ll just make fun of me.

 

People had always told Keith he had walls up, but they hadn’t gotten it quite right.

Because they weren’t just walls. They were barricades.

 

 

“Nothing is going on, Lance.”

 

There was something different about the way Lance looked at him, then – something piercing in his gaze, like he could actually read Keith’s mind. “Oh no? Then why’d you run off to talk with Adam? Why did you run off a couple days ago to talk with Keira? Why have you been so different ever since you came back to the team?”

There were far too many answers to those questions; far too many ways for the truth to come out. So Keith shrugged, eyes darting away. “It was two years for me. People change.”

He could feel Lance’s eyes boring into the side of his face like a laser.

“And what about the other stuff?” Lance pressed. “Why do you keep running away fr – running off?”

“That’s…private.”

Keith.” The way Lance spoke his name was so thin, so pleading, Keith had no choice but to glance his way. “Look. Okay. If you’re still…working something out, that’s fine. But I…I want to help you. I want to do something to…to show you that you – you don’t have to do everything alone, okay?”

 

It felt like a joke, and a bad one at that.

And coming off the tail end of his conversation with Adam, it started to fray the edges of Keith’s already ragged emotions.

 

“Doing stuff alone is easy. You’re just not used to it.” His voice came out a bit sharper than he had intended. “You’ve always been surrounded by people and noise and… So is that what’s going on with you right now? Are you trying to get me to talk because you’re used to having your friends with you, and you don’t know what to do with yourself without all of that?”

“Holy fuck, man. How’d you even get that from what I said? Are you just trying to flip this back on me to avoid talking about yourself? Did you think I’d be too dumb to notice?” Lance whipped a silencing finger in front of Keith’s face as soon as he opened his mouth to protest. “Nope. Forget that. I’m not letting you use that as an excuse to make this all about me. We’re still talking about you.”

Keith spread his arms out, palms facing the ceiling. “Lance, I don’t know what you want me to do, here! I get what you’re saying about talking to you if I have issues or whatever. But you’re sitting there like I’m supposed to break down and give you some tragic backstory like we’re in a bad TV show!”

“Well, maybe you should! That would be better than shutting down and shutting me out! It would be better than running off to everyone else, because there’s literally only one conclusion I can reach based on that fucking evidence, here.”

 

Keith hated when Lance got angry.

 

He hated what a startling difference it was from Lance’s usual mood.

He hated –

 

“The conclusion that I’m the problem. That I’m the one hurting you somehow. I’m the one you’re running away from.”

 

Keith hated that.

He hated that it was true – just not in the way Lance was thinking.

 

 

“We’re supposed to be in this thing together!” Lance continued, harsh and demanding. “We’re supposed to be friends. We’re supposed to fucking trust each other. Except you keep getting these – these looks and these moods, and you run off and talk to anyone but me.” Lance winced as he sat up straighter – immediately shaking the pain off as he growled, “So either I’m causing the problem and you need to tell me so I can fix what I’m doing. Or I’m not, and you need to let me help. Let me in. Because everything is better when we’re together, and the only way we’re gonna get through this is if we actually act like partners!”

 

Everything was catching up to Keith.

All the stress, all the anxiety, all the exhaustion, all the unending responsibility –

“Partners?” To his horror, he found himself whispering, “Like Keira and Alvarez?”

 

The horror mounted, like a wave that refused to break, when Lance didn’t immediately laugh his words away. When he didn’t brush it off or turn it into a joke.

Cheeks pink and eyes bright, he met Keith’s gaze. “Yeah.” There was something in Lance’s voice – something resolute; something fervent – that made Keith’s heart stutter. “Exactly like them.”

 

 

And that was the crest of the wave – breaking, spilling over, spiraling downward –

Because Lance didn’t get it.

He would never understand what those words actually meant to Keith.

 

 

“Keith, please.” Lance’s voice cracked, and Keith couldn’t breathe. “That face – what is going on with you? What’s wrong? What did I do?

Keith’s throat was tight, but he made himself shake his head; made himself speak, even as he pulled away from Lance, putting space between them. “You didn’t do anything. I promise you. Everything is fine.”

 

“Then why do you look like your heart just broke?”

 

 

And there was nothing he could say to that because –

Because it had.

Because it broke over and over, and it would continue to break, until –

 

Until he pulled himself together.

Until he got his emotions back under control.

Until he finally, officially, put those last stupid, hopeful thoughts to rest.

 

Except Keith wasn’t prepared for the way Lance’s anger shifted, then – the way it turned dark and simmering and deadly, deadly calm.

 

“I fell off a cliff trying to protect you. The least you could do is pretend to trust me.”

 

Lance was so, infuriatingly calm. His voice was so low and controlled, that Keith needed to fill the space.

Because no matter how much he tried to tame it, his own anger had always been the wild kind.

No matter what he wanted, he wasn’t made to protect.

He was the one who hurt others.

No matter how hard he tried not to.

 

“I never asked you to protect me!” Keith growled. “You think I wanted you to fall off a cliff for me? You think I wanted any of this? You think I want whatever the fuck this argument is right now?”

“I don’t know what you want,” Lance retorted. “I don’t know anything because you won’t fucking talk to me!”

 

It was something dark and ugly that slid around Keith’s heart, then – tendrils curling around the organ until it had no room left to expand. “You want me to talk to you?” His voice was cold and sharp. “You wanna know what I want? I want you to never protect me like that again. Never put your life at risk for me again – and if you don’t already get why it’s a stupid thing to do, you’ll know soon enough.” There was only ice behind his eyes as he raised his eyes. “The truth is, it doesn’t matter what I want in the end though. Because we’re never going to be partners. Not in our reality.”

 

And Lance…froze.

 

Keith watched his eyes dart quickly away before returning without the anger behind them. He opened his mouth, but no words followed.

 

The ice had wormed its way through Keith’s veins and into his heart as he rose to his feet.

“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” Keith let his words carry him out of the tent. “We don’t have to talk for me to know you could never be partners with someone like me.”

 

 

 

***

 

 

Curtis’ optimism that Lance would be recovered by the following morning was well placed, as even by that evening Lance was slowly moving around the camp.

A fact that Keith discovered from afar, as he was actively avoiding Lance.

 

He didn’t have the energy for another confrontation. And since he wasn’t entirely sure why Lance had gotten angry with him in the first place, he knew if they talked it would most likely spark up another argument since he wouldn’t know what specifics to avoid.

 

So ignoring was his best option.

Ignoring and avoiding and accepting that nothing would ever change between them.

 

 

Keith spent his afternoon on patrol around the perimeter alongside Kinkade. Which, as it turned out, was exactly what he needed, since Kinkade didn’t seem to want to talk any more than Keith did.

In fact, after their initial greeting and a brief explanation of what to keep an eye out for on patrol, they spent their entire trek through the surrounding trees in silence.

 

Only as they reentered the camp, Kinkade drew them to a halt with a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Keith,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I think I can guess why James keeps pulling you aside. I have known him for a long time, and I can see what goes on around me, even when people do not feel like sharing.”

 

The mention of James made Keith’s stomach sink.

 

“He is not a bad guy,” Kinkade went on. “But I feel I should inform you that everyone has agreed to spend one more night here, to give your Lance a chance to fully recover by morning. I know some of them had agreed to use it as an excuse to enjoy themselves, as long as our patrol and the next came back negative for enemy activity.”

“Enjoy themselves?”

“We have been in this forest for long enough to discover a plant that causes short-lived but strong inebriation. And if I know James as well as I believe I do, he will most likely make you another offer tonight.”

 

After the rollercoaster of a day he’d had, Keith hadn’t been able to imagine what could have possibly made it worse. However, the thought of a drunken James coming onto him was definitely on the top of that list.

 

“I appreciate that,” he said, hoping he sounded as sincere as he felt. “I know he’s your friend, so thank you for looking out for me.”

Kinkade nodded and moved to walk past Keith. Then, apparently thinking better of it, he turned back, hand still on Keith’s shoulder. “Like I said, I am an observant guy. If things get to be too much for you, you come find me. James is my friend, yes, but if you need to get away from him, you let me know.” After a moment he added, “And if you ever find yourself simply needing company without the pressure of conversation, you can find me for that as well. It is something I would also appreciate.”

And strangely, after everything, Keith found himself smiling at that.

“That,” he said, “is definitely something I will keep in mind.”

 

Kinkade offered Keith a small smile of his own before heading off to check in with the next patrol. Keith watched him walk away for a moment, before turning to head toward the supply tent to see if he could grab a bite to eat.

 

He froze, one foot poised to take a step – caught under the weight of Lance’s gaze from several meters away.

Lance sat on a nearby crate as Curtis knelt down to check his leg, and it was immediately obvious he had been watching the entire interaction with Kinkade.

Watching and glaring – a fact that he did nothing to hide as Keith met his eyes.

 

And that, Keith decided as a scowl pulled at the corners of his mouth and he dropped his gaze, moving quickly away, was the most confusing and infuriating part of this day so far.

 

Because Lance looked jealous.

 

 

***

 

 

The following patrol came back reporting negative activity, so Rizavi eagerly took it upon herself to gather the leaves and boil them into whatever weird alcoholic concoction they planned on drinking.

Curtis declined to join in, and softly informed Lance that the drugs were technically still in his system and he was still healing, so he would not be able to partake.

And Keira and Alvarez agreed to remain sober in the off chance something was to come up that required quick thinking.

 

Keith didn’t want to get drunk, nor did he want to be around a group of drunk people he didn’t know. And above all else, he didn’t want to be near either Lance or James, who had both been watching him with very different but equally obnoxious looks throughout the day.

He waited until the rest of them were seated around the small campfire with drinks in hand, already engrossed in telling stories and jokes, before he slipped off toward the edge of camp.

 

The need to get away had crested its peak and had begun to slip over the other side into the need to hide: Keith didn’t want to just not talk to anyone, he wanted to be left completely alone.

 

For once, he was thankful for his genetically superior night vision, as it allowed him to find a large tree with low hanging limbs and dense foliage with relative ease in the darkness of the forest.

It had been so long since he had climbed a tree, the sensation of his palms on the rough bark brought back a wave of bitter nostalgia. Memories of his own father trying not to look worried as he stood below Keith’s precarious perch with his arms raised, ready to catch him if he fell.

 

Trees, it turned out, were not as comfortable as he had remembered them – but Keith didn’t need comfort. He just needed to be alone. So he settled onto a branch on the far side of the tree, and leaned back against the trunk, shutting his eyes and letting the sounds of the forest wash over him.

 

The night breeze rustled the leaves around his head and brushed across his skin like a tender caress. And for one moment in time, Keith simply existed.

No war; no alternate realities.

No responsibilities as a leader.

No strangely jealous and angry Lance.

No unwanted propositions from James.

No memories of the Adam he had known.

No guilt.

No regret.

No heartbreak.

 

 

 

But the moment was fleeting.

 

 

 

Two voices began to draw closer, pulling Keith from his serenity and back to the world.

The voices were deliberately low, and so he did not realize who they were until they came to a stand directly below his tree.

“We’re probably far enough away by now that they won’t hear us if, you know, you want to get a little loud.”

And Keith’s heart immediately plummeted into his stomach.

“One of these days, this war will be over and I can finally be as loud as I want.” Keira chuckled. “And maybe even one day we can fuck in a real bed, too. Not saying I’m not a fan of the sauna that is our tent, or having my back pressed against a tree trunk, but –“

“Oh Sweetheart,” Alvarez crooned. “One of these days I’ll give you everything you deserve.”

“You already do,” came the gentle reply. “But I still feel like I lose ten pounds when we fuck in the tent.”

 

Keith had one hand clapped over his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut.

He wasn’t one to pray, but he offered up a silent prayer, now, to any deity who might be listening that what he thought was about to happen was not actually going to happen.

 

The pair were not directly beneath the branch on which he sat, and he was easily hidden from view among the dense leaves, but there was no way for him to climb down and escape without them noticing him.

He was trapped, and it was awkward.

He was trapped –

And it was horrible.

 

He couldn’t see them, but he could hear them.

They weren’t loud – obviously keeping things discreet so as not to draw attention from the camp – but it was quiet enough in the forest that Keith’s proximity made every breath, every moan, every movement, every whispered word sound like gunfire against the night.

 

God, Lance, I love it when you do that.

Lance, you feel so good.

Please…I need you inside me –

 

Just like that…

Right there…

Come on…

Oh fuck –

 

Baby.

Sweetheart.

Love.

Lance.

 

Lance…Lance…Lance –

 

 

 

It was quick – it had to be – but it felt like hours to Keith, perched on his tree branch, trying to shut out the world.

He was lightheaded from trying not to breathe, trying not to listen, trying not to exist, by the time he heard Alvarez murmur, “Can I cum inside?” – trying not to hear those words in Lance’s voice. Trying not to picture Lance’s face as he said them –

 

Keira must have given some affirmation because a few seconds later they were both breathing hard – coming down and collective themselves.

 

 

Keith still didn’t dare to breathe, but at least it was over.

It was over and he could permanently scrub it from his memory.

He could wipe it from his mind along with any thought that he and Lance might ever –

 

“Hey –” The quiet concern in Alvarez’s voice caught Keith’s attention, despite his efforts. “Sweetheart, darling, baby – it’s okay.”

To Keith’s horror, he could hear the tears in Keira’s voice when she spoke. “You talked about giving me what I deserve. But I can’t… I –”

Sweetheart –“

“No, Lance, I know how much family means to you.”

“Baby, we talked about this.”

“I know, but I can’t help but think you’ll – you’ll change your mind.” She sniffed, mournful and anguished. “Because I’m the one who’s wrong.” A harsh, mirthless chuckle was ripped from her throat. “Keith said the same thing the other day. About being the thing that’s wrong in his own life, and that’s…it’s the same. I’m the one who can’t have kids anymore. I’m the one who can’t give you –“

“Keira. I don’t care.” There was conviction in Alvarez’s voice. “We can figure this out if that’s what we want. But it has to be what we want. Together. We’re always better together, you know that.”

“I know.” Keira let out a wavering breath. “But it just…gets to me sometimes, and I think if you ever found someone else – someone who could give you everything. If I hadn’t gotten shot –“

“Hey.” Alvarez interrupted. “When this is all over, we’re going to get married. That’s a promise, and nothing is going to change that. We can still have a family – not because it’s something you think I deserve, but because it’s something I think we would be great at together – and something I can’t see myself doing with anyone else but you.” He must have pulled her into a hug, then, because Keira small sob was muffled as if it was pressed into the crook of his neck. “There’s no one else but you, love. You’re all I’ve ever needed.”

 

 

***

 

 

Keith remained on his branch after they had returned to camp.

He sat there so long that when he finally tried to move, he found his muscles had locked up, making climbing down painful.

 

 

He refused to meet anyone’s eyes as he stepped up to the campfire, taking the cup Rizavi offered him and downing it in one go as she gave an impressed whistle.

The liquid burned going down, but Keith didn’t care.

Kinkade caught his eye, giving him a look of obvious concern, but Keith didn’t care.

 

 

Today was too much.

This place was too much.

The inside of Keith’s own mind was too much.

 

Everything was too much.

 

And Keith didn’t care anymore.

 

 

 

End

 

Chapter 7: COWARD

Summary:

Lance knew something was wrong. But he never imagined it would be THIS wrong.

(aka some things are brought to light and addressed)

Notes:

WARNINGS ON THIS CHAPTER:
PLEASE READ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- Mentions of suicide
- Non-explicit, but implied graphic violence
- Alcohol-induced negative and harmful thoughts
- There is also a moment that *could* be seen as sexual assault, although within the context of the story that is not how the moment actually comes across to the characters involved (i.e. not the intent of the moment)

I really want to stress that you should approach this chapter with caution, as it is very dark and emotional, and deals with a lot of heavy themes surrounding self-worth, sacrifice, cruelty, and death.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVEN

 COWARD

 

 

Lance POV

 

 

Jealousy, in Lance’s educated opinion, was the stupidest thing to feel.

 

Jealousy was a horrible, spiteful voice whispering in his ear of all the things he could never do, all the failures he would have; of all the expectations he would never meet. And no matter how many times he told that voice You’re wrong, it kept coming back.

 

He despised the feeling, because he knew it was irrational.

 

He knew he shouldn’t be jealous that Keith was able to talk to other people about whatever was going on with him. Rationally, the only important thing was that Keith was able to talk about it – regardless of whether or not he was talking to Lance.

He also knew he shouldn’t be jealous of the way Alvarez got to look at Keira. He shouldn’t be jealous of the way she returned his gaze. He shouldn’t be jealous of the unspoken connection they shared and how the world seemed to fade away when their eyes met. Rationally, he knew that, despite being alternate versions of Keith and himself, they were still different people. Different people with different lives, and it shouldn’t matter that Alvarez got to openly look at Keira the way he wanted to look at Keith.

He especially knew he shouldn’t be jealous of the way James looked at Keith. He shouldn’t be jealous of the way Kinkade’s hand had lingered on Keith’s shoulder. Rationally, Keith could do what he wanted with whomever he wanted, and he didn’t need Lance’s permission.

 

Irrationally, though, the need to feel special in Keith’s eyes was so all-consuming, it made him want to scream.

 

He wanted to be the one Keith trusted above everyone else.

He wanted to be the one person Keith turned to when he needed it most.

 

 

 

Lance understood, now, how he had misinterpreted that feeling in their early years together. How it had fueled that stupid rivalry in his mind.

It made so much sense how his younger brain would have jumped to the conclusion that Keith was special because he was someone Lance needed to beat; someone Lance needed to be better than.

 

It made even more sense now – after Lance had finally come to the realization that Keith wasn’t special because of all the things he did better than Lance; he was special because there was something about him that Lance had always gravitated towards.

He was special because he was someone Lance wanted to hang onto for the rest of his life.

           

He was special, because he just was special to Lance, and all Lance wanted was to be special to Keith in return.

 

 

 

Jealousy simmered below the surface as Lance watched the others, drunk and laughing, around the campfire.

And he hated it.

 

He hated the fact that Keith hadn’t looked at anyone as he approached the campfire. He hated how quickly he had downed the cup Rizavi had offered, before requesting another. Because even in Lance’s limited experience with alcohol, he knew the difference between someone who was drinking for fun and someone who was drinking because they felt the need to get drunk.

 

He hated more than anything how obviously Keith had ignored him.

 

 

Lance had watched as Keith took his second cup and turned sharply away from the circle.

The jealousy in his chest had grown dark and protective as a barely visible smirk played across James’ face. The jealousy had intensified at the look in Kinkade’s eyes – the way he chewed on his lower lip as if trying to figure out if he should do something.

 

Lance hated all of it.

 

Lance knew Keith wasn’t his. Not to look after, not to protect, not to comfort –

But that didn’t stop the jealousy from gripping him by the shoulders, pushing at his vocal chords, until he wanted to stand up and yell at both of them “Back off!”

 

He wished he could just ignore it all.

He wished he could let it all go – accept that Keith could look out for himself; allow himself to be fine with the fact that he was not the one Keith needed.

 

But in the end, Lance was only human.

A stupid, cowardly, jealous human on his bad days.

 

A sensitive, protective and intuitive one on his good days.

 

Because despite how many others stepped in between him and Keith, there was still one thing that set Lance apart from all the rest: He knew Keith.

He knew something had changed. He knew something was different. He knew something was wrong.

And even more than his own feelings – even more than his own wishes and hopes – he was, and would always be, Keith’s friend.

 

And he knew with a sinking dread in the pit of his stomach as he watched Keith wander off toward the edge of the camp, that whatever that something was, it was getting worse.

 

He had known long before their argument in the tent earlier that evening. But Keith’s heartbroken expression, and the words he had spoken had been the final nail in the coffin; concrete proof of Lance’s suspicions.

 

We don’t have to talk for me to know you could never be partners with someone like me.

 

The words had been the dagger that embedded itself in the center of Lance’s chest.

The tone of Keith’s voice had been the hand that reached out and twisted the blade.

 

Because Lance couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever choice Keith had made as he spoke those words – whatever decision had fueled the resignation in his eyes – if Lance let it slide again, if he ignored it and moved on, it would be a mistake he would regret forever.

 

 

***

 

Curtis’ hand on Lance’s shoulder was a distraction from his inner turmoil.

“Sorry.” Curtis’ brows raised in a sympathetic look. “But whatever you’re feeling right now is showing all over your face. I didn’t know if you wanted to be so obvious about it.”

“Thanks. I didn’t realize.” As good as Lance was at hiding some of his deeper insecurities and feelings, his surface level emotions had always been fairly easy to read.

Curtis leaned in close, bumping their shoulders together. “You and Keith have a fight or something? Not –“ he added quickly, “that I’m trying to pry, but I know injuries can bring out intense emotions in people – especially when it’s someone they love, and –“

“He doesn’t love me.”

Curtis pulled back a little. “Sorry, what?”

“Keith,” Lance grimaced. “He doesn’t love me. We’re teammates.”

For what felt like a solid minute, Curtis stared at him, mouth slightly open. Then he held up both hands in a gesture of pure defeat. “Nope. Sorry. I’ve already heard my quota of unbelievable news today. Is your leg feeling okay? Because I need to find Adam and vent.”

“My leg is fine.”

 

It was, surprisingly. Some lingering pain and numbness, but Lance could walk well enough – albeit slower than normal – and at the rate it had healed, he knew he’d be fine enough to travel the next day as long as they weren’t scaling mountains or running marathons.

 

Curtis gave him one final pat on the shoulder accompanied by an annoyingly pitying look, and Lance turned his attention back to the rest of the group.

Rizavi and Matt were laughing raucously at something he had missed. Keira and Alvarez were cuddled on the opposite side of the fire, Keira’s head resting on his shoulder as Alvarez’s fingers combed through her hair. Kinkade was talking to Ina and –

 

 

And James was gone.

 

 

Lance was up and away from the campfire as fast as his legs would allow.

 

Maybe it was the jealousy’s influence. Maybe he had no reason to be acting this paranoid.

Maybe he was about to intrude on something Keith wanted.

Maybe everything was fine and he was overreacting.

 

But maybe he was right to worry.

 

And that last tiny maybe wasn’t something he could ignore.

 

 

 

Lance’s leg was stiff as he stumbled through the camp, head on a swivel.

It wasn’t long before he heard the soft murmur of voices from somewhere within the tree-line.

 

His pace slowed as he approached, just in case he was wrong.

Lance edged around the last tent, trying to stay hidden as he tried to get a view of what was happening.

 

 

Keith had his back pressed up against the broad trunk of a tree and James stood in front of him.

Too close, Lance immediately noted with a sudden, angry swoop of his stomach.

James was gesturing, his voice rising and falling so Lance couldn’t catch every word.

“…doesn’t want you,” James was saying. “You know that. You know it’s not the same.” His voice dropped as he leaned in, some of the words getting lost. “…both can’t have what we want. So let’s have this. Let’s pretend.”

Keith’s movements were heavy, like if he stepped away from the tree, his legs might give out. “Don’t wanna pretend. It’ll only hurt more.”

“It won’t hurt, I promise. It’ll be okay. Just give me once chance to pretend you are her, and I’ll make it so good for you.”

 

Keith’s words had made Lance’s heart stutter in his chest.

James’ words had been like an electric shock through his system.

 

Lance could feel his heart pounding so hard, it felt like a terrified animal bashing itself against the bars of its cage. Because this was so, so wrong.

 

Lance knew all too well what it was like to feel not good enough.

But being made to feel like you weren’t even as good as your own alternate self was some next level bullshit.

It was cruel, and it was wrong.

 

James hands, reaching out and sliding up Keith’s sides, pulling him closer – they were wrong, too.

Because nobody deserved to be touched in that way, if that touch was for someone else.

 

James leaning in and pressing his lips to Keith’s neck as Keith turned his head away and closed his eyes – and it was so, so wrong that it snapped Lance out of his shock.

Blood surged through his body again, moving his legs forward.

 

“Hey, man,” he called out, hurrying out from behind the tent.

 

James jerked away, turning cold eyes on Lance, his hands never leaving Keith’s waist. “Go away. Can’t you see we’re busy?”

“I can see you’re both drunk,” Lance retorted, matching James’ glare. “So I think this is over.”

James cocked his head. “Hm. You’re saying that like it has anything to do with you.”

“And you’re acting like Keith has shown any interest in you, which anyone with eyes could see he hasn’t. So I’m done talking to you.” Lance turned abruptly to Keith who was watching him, eyes glazed and head lolling back against the tree. “Hey, Team Leader, I need you for something.”

A horrible smile stretched lazily across Keith’s face. “Course you do. Always ‘cause I’m the leader. Only that.”

Lance took one step forward, his eyes softening. “Keith. I need you.”

The smile lingered for a moment before slowly fading from Keith’s face. “You need me?”

“I need you,” Lance repeated, holding out a hand.

 

Several tense seconds ticked by as Keith stared at the offered hand. Then, unsteadily, he disentangled himself from James’ hold and wobbled over to Lance. Keith’s hand was warm as it latched onto Lance’s – and his body was warmer as he stumbled into Lance’s chest with a soft grunt. Lance maneuvered him until he could get one arm around Keith’s waist, supporting him as he slumped heavily to one side.

James looked about one second away from starting a fight, fists clenched at his sides. “Keith, my offer stands. Let me know when you realize this will help both of us.”

Lance rolled his eyes, guiding Keith as quickly as he was able back toward their tent. “Just fuck off,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Lance?” Keith slurred, voice laced with confusion. “Where’re we going?”

“We’re going back to the tent, buddy,” Lance said, adjusting his grip on his friend. “Although I’m gonna be honest, I might have to drop you off and go punch James in the face. That drink hit you pretty hard, huh?”

Keith snorted. “He totally wanted to fuck me. You defending my – my non-existent honor or something?”

“Yeah,” Lance snapped. “He wanted to fuck you. Did you want him to?”

Keith made a non-committal noise. “Dunno. Could’ve pretended like he said. Not like I’ve gotten any action since I left the fucking Blade.”

 

Lance chose to not think about that tidbit of information.

Chose to ignore the image of some faceless Blade member pressing Keith into a mattress, leaning over him, hands sliding down his bare back –

 

Keith slumped in Lance’s hold as he reached for the tent flap, hefting his friend as best he could with the other arm. He practically had to drag Keith inside, and once he got him on the bedroll, Keith flopped bonelessly to one side.

 

Lance’s leg was throbbing a little by then, but he grabbed a water bottle from their supplies and shakily lowered himself beside Keith on the ground.

“Hey, man,” he said. “Think you can sit up to drink some water?”

Keith’s eyes cracked open, swiveling up to stick on Lance’s face. For a moment, he only stared, his brows pinching together.

“You look angry.”

Lance ran a hand through his hair, wondering whether or not it was even worth it to explain. Keith probably wouldn’t remember anything in the morning, anyway.

 

“Yeah,” he finally conceded. “I am a little angry. What are you doing, man? This isn’t you.”

“Y’don’t know anything about me. You said…’cause I don’t talk.”

That made Lance’s frown darken. “So you’re telling me you’re the kind of person who would just let that asshole Griffin do whatever he wanted to you? You’re the kind of person who would get absolutely shitfaced so he couldn’t even walk straight?”

Keith snorted. “I n…never walk straight.”

“Keith – come on.” It would have made Lance laugh under difference circumstances, but not now when all he wanted was a serious answer.

Uuuugh. Whaddyu want from me?” Keith rolled over onto his back, letting one arm fall heavily across his stomach. “Everybody always fuckin’…wants stuff from me. Always…disappointed.”

“What do you mean?”

Keith grunted, waving a heavy hand through the air. “Sh-Shiro wanted me to lead when we all know that’s fuckin’ stupid. Stupid decision. ‘M not a leader. Not a fuckin’ good and selfless person that people follow. A…llura wanted…wanted me to not be Galra. Not like I wanted that either. Dad wanted me to be something. Like do something good with my life. My…my mom wanted me to be…be more than I was.” He ran a hand down his face with a drawn-out groan. “Fuckin’…Griffin wanted to pretend I was Keira and fuck me, an’ dunno how that works with the, ya know, dick and all, but fuckin’ – why not? Iss not like I’m good as…as myself anyway. Not like… It’s not like I’ve gotta say in any of this. So why can’t I be – be selfish for one night, huh? Just one night an’ just forget about what everyone else wants. Jus’ forget that I’ll never be what they expect of me. Jus’ forget that I’ll never…never get what I want.”

“What do you want?” Lance gently peeled Keith’s hand away from his face, only to have it yanked away.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter!” Keith snapped. “Jus’…told you. Never gonna happen. ‘Cause there’s people who deserve good things and thas’not… Not me. All my foster parents an’ teachers…they knew. Always told me. Should’a listened.” He sighed, long and weary, closing his eyes.

“Hey, man,” Lance said, nudging his shoulder. “Don’t fall asleep like that. Can you roll onto your side for me?” For once in his life, he didn’t know what to say to this unexpected insight into how Keith viewed his own life, because it was so far from what Lance had expected.

All Keith offered him was a shake of his head. “Comfortable. Fuck off.”

“Keith, you’re really drunk.” Lance nudged him again. “You can’t sleep on your back, okay?”

 

It was so different, seeing this side of Keith. Seeing his cheeks flushed and a wry smile so quick to take over his face. It was so unlike him, to hear the words flow unhindered from his lips.

And Lance decided that it was another thing he hated.

True, he had always wondered what Keith would be like without the restriction of his inhibitions or responsibilities. But in those times he had thought about it, he had always imagined Keith being happy.

Happy, worry-free, light…

Not this.

 

“Can you imagine? Legendary fuckin’ Black Paladin lets go for one fuckin’ night and chokes to death on his own vomit. Whadda fuckin’ hero.”

“Um yeah, that’s exactly what we want to avoid.” Lance gave up any pretense of politeness, and reached out, trying to make Keith roll over.

He was surprising strong for a drunk person as he resisted, though, slapping Lance’s hands away. “Just fuckin’ leave me alone.”

“Seriously, man? Do you want to die choking on your own vomit?”

Keith’s eyes opened pensively toward the darkened ceiling of the tent. “Nah,” he slurred. “Wanted to die pret-precting protec…saving you all. Like a hero.” He grinned. “But, hey, this’d get you off the hook. W…wouldn’t have’ta deal with all my bullshit anymore.”

 

Lance pulled back, staring down at Keith. His hand hovered in the air between them like he had just been burned.

 

Because obviously his question had been rhetorical.

Because of course Keith didn’t want to die.

Because of course he knew Lance wasn’t just…

 

He leaned down, feeling his heart pound hollowly against his ribcage – suddenly wanting nothing more than take Keith’s hand and hold on forever. He pressed his knuckled against Keith’s shoulder, instead. “What do you mean by that? You know I like having you around.”

 

Abruptly – heart-stoppingly – Keith’s glazed, drunken eyes turned shiny. He grinned up at Lance with the most forlorn expression Lance had ever seen and whispered, “Not in the way I wish you did.”

 

 

Lance’s lungs felt like they were too large for his chest. Trembling fingers snaked out to pluck a stray hair that had stuck to Keith’s forehead, and tuck it behind his ear. “How…how do you wish I did?”

But the moment was broken, and Keith only grimaced. “Doesn’t matter. You’re too…too good. Too nice. Don’t deserve… All my…foster parents, they said…” he shut his eyes again. “Said I …wasn’t worth… Whatever. Gotta get y’all back home, an’…an’ then you’ll be rid of me.”

“Rid of you?”

Keith’s nod was curt and resolved. “Never…never belonged. Prob’ly already lived too long. It’ll be fine.”

Lance’s hands were shaking. He couldn’t feel his legs. “Keith –“ His voice was shaking, too. “I don’t…nobody wants you to die. You…you do know that, right?”

Keith only smiled at that, small and sad, his eyes still closed.

“Unless.” There was a wave cresting over Lance’s head – a wall of dark, churning water, just waiting to crash over him and pull him down, down, down –  “You’re trying to tell me that…you want to die. Is that what you want, Keith?”

He didn’t open his eyes. “Told you. Doesn’t matter what I want.”

 

The wave broke.

Water filled Lance’s lungs and he couldn’t breathe.

It stung at his eyes until the vision of Keith before him on the bedroll swam.

 

 

Keith,” he choked out.

Keith’s eyes opened blearily as Lance cupped his cheek and turned his head to the side. “Hm?”

“I…I do want something from you, too. I want us to talk about this when you’re sober, okay?”

“You’re makin’ a bigger deal outta this than y’ should.” Keith reached over and sloppily tapped Lance on the nose. “Don’ even remb-memmer what I said to you.”

Lance caught his hand. “You said a lot of things I didn’t like,” he confessed. “You said a lot of things we need to actually talk about, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Keith’s eyes roamed across his face for a moment. “You don’t look angry anymore.”

“That’s because I’m sad.”

“No sad, Lance. Too good for sad.”

Lance’s fingers squeezed around Keith’s hand. “Please, can we talk? Maybe tomorrow? Please, can you try to remember this?”

Keith rolled onto his side, his knuckles knocking gently against Lance’s thigh at the edge of the bedroll. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

 

 

Lance stared at Keith as his eyes closed and his breathing eventually evened out.

He clutched his hand and stared, and stared – watching him breathe, memorizing every sharp angle of his face, hearing those drunken words play through his head.

 

You knew something was wrong, he chided himself, trying to swallow down the tightness in his throat. You asked him to talk to you.

 

Finally Lance gave in and slipped around behind Keith, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing his nose into Keith’s shoulder. He tried not to make a sound as he lay there, clutching his friend – letting his silent tears soak into Keith’s pillow.

You knew something was wrong, he repeated over and over.

 

 

But he had never imagined it would be this wrong.

 

 

***

 

 

The thing that dragged Lance from his restless slumber was the feeling of Keith trying to extricate himself from Lance’s arms.

The minute his waking brain caught up to what was happening, Lance’s fingers wound in Keith’s shirt, his arm becoming a lead weight around his waist.

“Lance –“ Keith’s voice was rough. “I know you’re still half asleep, but I really need to get up.”

“You gonna come back?”

 

Keith seemed to sense the gravity in that sentence because he paused, his hand stilling where he had been trying to pry Lance’s arm away.

 

“Of course?” There was confusion in Keith’s voice. “I just need to take a piss and I’ll be right back?”

“You promise?”

Confusion morphed into annoyance, judging by the soft growl Keith let out as he finally slipped free of Lance’s hold. “Okay, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I don’t have the bladder to figure it out right now. I’ll be right back, so just –“

He was on his feet and escaping out the tent flap before any further protest could be uttered.

 

 

Lance lay alone on the bedroll until the soft crunch of Keith’s footsteps faded out of earshot.

 

Stupid, he reprimanded himself, slapping a palm to his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut. He finally talked to you – he finally started to open up – and the first thing you do is…smother him? Get your shit together.

 

Lance could hear several others shuffling around outside the tent, and he made himself get up – made himself go through the routine of brushing his teeth.

He was doing what little he could to wash his face when Keith returned.

 

Keith’s gaze, trailing down Lance’s body, was so intense it felt like a physical touch. It lingered for a few seconds before Keith was moving closer, grabbing his own toothbrush and toothpaste tablet.

“How’s your leg?”

 

Lance flexed his toes inside the boot he had never bothered to remove the night before. “Fine? I guess the meds work like the pods in a weird way. Speeding up the process and all.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed. “Good. That’s…that’s good.”

Lance held his breath, waiting for Keith to break this awkwardness between them – waiting for him to actually address the thing they needed to talk about.

 

But Keith only brushed his teeth.

And said nothing more.

 

 

***

 

 

The tense silence between them stretched beyond the walls of the tent.

It didn’t stop Lance from sticking close to Keith’s side, however, as they packed up and got ready to move out with the rest of the group.

Keith’s eyes kept drifting toward Lance with soft confusion that slowly morphed into concern and annoyance as they trudged through the forest.

After the third time Keith physically bumped into Lance while trying to navigate the uneven ground of their path, it nearly sent both of them lurching toward the ground.

After gaining their balance back, Keith’s fingers wrapped around Lance’s bicep and he pulled him in close, hissing in his ear, “What going on with you today? If your leg is hurting, you gotta let me know. You can’t just keep doing…whatever this is.”

Lance had opened his mouth to respond – to scoff and remind Keith that he knew exactly what was going on. Except the words died in his throat as he realized with a dubious kind of despair that maybe Keith really didn’t remember.

 

Maybe he didn’t remember saying any of those dangerous, terrifying things he had let slip under the influence of that weird alcoholic tea.

Maybe Lance would have to relive every heartbreaking moment of it just so he could explain to Keith the importance of the talk he still hoped to have.

 

And maybe, the pessimist in him added, if Keith didn’t remember, he would just claim ignorance, and try to brush it away like it wasn’t the only thing that mattered right now.

 

“My leg’s fine. Just stiff.” Lance mumbled, hating the lie and hating himself for giving in to it. “Sorry.”

He could feel Keith’s eyes on him, disbelieving. But when Lance offered no other explanation, Keith let it go and they continued on in silence, as the others chatted and gossiped and laughed around them.

 

And with every step, Lance felt more and more like a coward.

 

 

***

 

 

When the attack came, they were given no warning.

 

 

One minute Lance was trudging along, trying to make himself open his mouth and talk to Keith – and the next, chaos was unfolding around him.

 

He hadn’t realized how much he’d been conditioned for battle until the sound of gunfire had his body instinctively ducking for cover – one hand reaching for his bayard.

As his fingers closed around nothing, however, he realized just how distracted he had been with everything else that it had slipped his mind these people were also involved in a war.

The blind focus he had put into trying to figure out what was wrong with Keith, coupled with the fact they hadn’t seen another soul outside of this immediate group since they arrived on this world, meant Lance had forgotten the purpose of their stealth was in order to avoid combat.

 

Most vitally importantly right now, though, was since he hadn’t been thinking about those other things, he had also forgotten one now completely essential piece of information:

 

Neither Lance not Keith had nor been given weapons.

 

 

From the bruising grip Keith had on Lance’s arm as they crouched behind a fallen tree, he had just come to the same realization.

 

Shots rang out around them.

Voices yelled.

One cried out in pain.

And Lance’s blood was boiling with the need to act – to help –

 

 

He understood the look in Keith’s dark eyes too late.

He comprehended Keith’s grip on his arm loosen just a fraction too slowly.

 

His own yell – harmonizing with the chaos and noise around them – fell on deaf ears as Keith slipped away from him. As Keith, in all his brash stupidity, moved closer to the action – armed with neither a weapon nor a plan.

 

Lance glanced frantically around for anything he could use to defend himself, his mind buzzing with the need to follow Keith out into the fray.

 

And that was when yet another realization struck him, freezing his hand for a moment as it reached for a sturdy branch near his boot.

 

Of course he ran out there without so much as a goddamn thought.

 

Of course he had always been reckless. Of course Keith was the one who threw himself into danger; the one who flew into blackholes and ran through fire and dodged asteroids.

 

 

Because Keith didn’t care what happened to himself.

He never had.

 

 

Except there’s just one little problem with that, Lance thought, fingers wrapping around the branch – pebbles biting into his knees as he rocked forward, peering out from behind the log.

 

Because Lance really fucking cared what happened to Keith.

 

 

 

Staying low to the ground, Lance slipped out from behind the log, moving quickly until he was able to duck behind a nearby tree, pressing his back to the rough bark.

As always happened with any combat he engaged in, Lance used his adrenaline towards focusing on everything he was able to – scoping out the bigger picture, keeping track of where his allies were and where his help was needed most.

He mourned the lack of his bayard’s sniper rifle form, as this was the area his intense focus was best used. He secretly loved being the eye in the sky. It helped him feel like he was a vital piece of the puzzle – like he was protecting his friends and teammates, and as long as he was up there looking out for them, nobody was going to get hurt.

It was the one area where he was most comfortable; where he knew he was good.

And as much as the rest of the team groaned when he referred to himself as “sharpshooter,” he knew they recognized it, too.

 

             

Being on ground level, Lance had to take in the situation piece by piece each time he dared poke his head out from behind the tree trunk – fitting each individual snippet of information together to form a bigger whole.

           

It seemed as though they had been ambushed from the front, as that was where the action was heaviest.  He could see the rest of the squad members barricaded behind trees and rocks – popping out occasionally to return fire.

Rizavi was on the ground, hidden behind a boulder, and even from the distance, Lance could see the patch of red seeping around her fingers as she clutched her upper arm.

Curtis was crouched beside her, attempting to tend to her wound as shots whizzed above their heads.

There was a distinct thud into a tree trunk to Lance’s left, and he realized – even though he should have before; even though of course – that these were bullets, not lasers. Not blasters or ion weapons. Actual bullets.

 

These weapons would not cauterize any wound they inflicted. These weapons would leave them bleeding out.

These weapons – he realized with mounting horror, as he caught sight of Keith’s empty, weaponless hands – that if any of them got hit badly enough, he wasn’t sure just how much damage one of Curtis’s magic healing pills could fix.

That suddenly this was very real and very dangerous, and he wasn’t sure if Keith realized that.

 

Keith, who was out there with only a flimsy vest to protect himself.

Keith, crouched low to the ground, preparing to make his way toward the front of the group, like he planned to take on the enemy using only his fists.

 

The enemy who were currently firing on them with fucking guns. This universe’s version of the Galra who could take Keith away from him.

Stupid, reckless, fearless Keith.

 

Stupid, stupid, stupid Keith who was so focused on what lay ahead of him, he didn’t see the two soldiers who had snuck around to the back of the group.

 

 

Kinkade had his back pressed against a tree several yards away. He was the only one who happened to glance back; the only one aside from Lance who noticed.

Kinkade called out to Keith – shouting his name as a warning – but by that time it didn’t even matter.

Because the second Lance saw the two soldiers slip out of the trees, he had already fallen too far and too fast down the rabbit hole of imagined terror that came with the thought of losing Keith.

 

The first soldier was down by the time Keith’s head whipped around at the sound of Kinkade’s warning.

 

Lance hadn’t realized his accuracy applied to objects thrown as well. He had just picked up the rock with the mere hope of causing a distraction, but the next thing he knew it had struck one soldier directly on the bridge of his nose, and he was crumpling to the ground.

The second soldier froze for a split second as his partner fell – and then his gun was raised.

Lance was hidden from his view, and he apparently had not seen where the rock had been thrown from, so he did the only instinctual thing he could, and aimed his gun at the only person he could get a clear shot on.

 

The forest faded away from Lance, melting into the dark abyss of space.

 

His heartbeat was in his ears as images flashed through his mind –

 

The smile melting from Keith’s face as he turned and walked away from the team.

The dead-eyed expression Keith had worn on every call with Kolivan.

The way Keith’s gaze slipped inward on occasion.

The hurt on his face as he turned and hurried away from Lance the other day.

The heartbreak on his face as he –

 

 

Keith could protect himself. It was just a fact.

It had never been about Lance not trusting Keith to look out for himself; it had never been about Lance doubting Keith’s skill or abilities or sense.

It had always been about one thing and one thing only: Lance just wanted to protect Keith. Because he was precious. Because he was worth protecting.

 

And because, right now, Keith didn’t believe either of those things about himself.

 

 

 

That desire to protect was a need, now, pounding through Lance’s brain; roaring in his ears –

 

Being a sniper and a paladin from inside a giant robotic lion meant Lance rarely had to be up close and personal with his casualties.

But he had trained his ass off after Keith had left.

He had channeled all of his frustration and loneliness and guilt into sparring sessions on the training deck. He had trained with feet and fists, and with his broadsword – and he had become good. Maybe not Keith’s level good, but still more than capable of holding his own in a fight on the ground.

 

Yet even if he hadn’t trained, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Training didn’t matter now.

Not now, when every movement of his body was fueled by pure rage and adrenaline and that insatiable need to defend, to save, to shield –

 

Lance had always seen his kills through the scope on his bayard. He knew that whenever he pulled the trigger, whoever was on the other end of it would either lose their life or be incapacitated.

But they never saw the shot coming.

So Lance never saw the moment their expressions shifted from determined and fierce to something…stricken and terrified.

 

He never had to look into the eyes of another living being and witness the moment they realized they were about to die.

 

He never had to feel their blood on his hands.

He never had to hear the sickening sound of a solid object meeting flesh and bone.

 

 

The air burned as he dragged it in and out of his lungs. The muscles in his arms ached from the effort.

 

Somewhere at the back of his mind, he knew his opponent had been the enemy – he had seen the man’s unfamiliar face, he had seen the different uniform.

Except only now as Lance stared down at what was left of this person, did he see the pale skin peeking out from beneath the pooling blood. Only now did he see the black hair and dark, unseeing eyes.

 

The tide had pulled away from Lance by the force of his rage, and now – suddenly, blindingly – it all came rushing back up to meet him.

 

All the things he had heard Keith say last night.

All the horrors he had tried to block from his mind during their time with Voltron.

All the nights he had spent, trying to fall asleep in the Castleship – unable to stop his imagination from picturing Keith, lost and forgotten, in his Blade uniform. Keith, left by his team, alone and bleeding out with no one coming back for him –

 

The image of the fallen soldier at Lance’s feet blurred into Keith.

He saw Keith’s dark hair and pale skin.

He saw Keith’s eyes, wide and clouding over.

 

Because what was stopping Keith from being in this exact position? What, except skill and dumb luck? What was preventing this fate for him if he decided one day his own life wasn’t worth the effort anymore?

What was preventing him from this fate if one day he decided to stop fighting?

 

What if one day someone came after Keith, and Lance wasn’t there to stop it, like he had here and now?

 

 

No.

 

Lance was shaking. He could feel it throughout his entire body. He could feel his ribs caving in with the strength of his conviction.

He would be there. He had to be there.

 

Lance…

 

He would never let this happen to Keith.

 

Lance?

 

He would never let anyone hurt him – even if he had to protect Keith from his own, dark and ugly thoughts –

 

“Lance –“

 

 

Keith’s voice, calling his name, finally broke through enough for Lance to raise his head.

 

Even as he did, he was afraid.

Afraid of what he might see.

Afraid of what a frightening mess he must look like, now.

Afraid…that all he would see in Keith’s eyes was the same fear he was projecting onto himself at what he had done; at what he was imagining.

 

The heavy, smothering worry in Keith’s eyes was almost as bad.

 

The branch slipped from Lance’s blood-slick fingers and then Keith was in his arms. He didn’t remember moving. He didn’t remember crossing the space between them – only the stiff fabric of Keith’s vest as his fingers uncurled against it. Only the shuddery breath Keith let out by his ear.

Only Keith’s arms coming up to wind around his back.

“Lance, are you okay?”

There was so much gentle concern in Keith’s voice, it only served to push Lance closer to the edge, and all that came out of his mouth was a broken, “Don’t go. Don’t go, Keith,” muffled into the side of Keith’s neck.

“I’m not…I’m not going anywhere.” It was so obvious Keith was desperately trying to remain calm for Lance’s sake. “I’m right here. I’m here.”

But Lance could only shake – only cling to him as he tried to focus on the press of Keith’s hands steadying his back.

“Lance, please –“ A flicker of urgency filtered into Keith’s voice. “H-he shot at you. I need to check if you were hit. You know what adrenaline does – you probably wouldn’t even notice –“

 

But Lance couldn’t let go.

He was on the verge of completely breaking down; on the verge of pulling Keith’s face into his hands and kissing him until he couldn’t breathe…

 

“We have to keep moving.” It was Alvarez’ voice – Lance’s own voice – that pulled him out of it. Alvarez’s voice, sounding like the calm, sensible voice in his own head, telling him to pull himself together. “We can’t linger here in case there’s more of them.”

It was Alvarez’ hand on Lance’s shoulder that made him unwind his arms and take a step back.

“Yeah.” Keith’s eyes never left Lance’s face, wide and searching and still so full of concern. “We got this.”

Lance hadn’t even realized he was clasping Keith’s hand until Keith gave his a little squeeze. “We got this, Lance.”

Lance bit his lip, unable to speak. But he did manage a nod.

 

As they hurried away from the scene now littered with the bodies of fallen Galra soldiers, Lance never once glanced back at the two he had put on the ground.

 

 

***

 

 

Besides Rizavi, who had taken a bullet through the arm, Kinkade and Adam had both sustained minor injuries. None of these injuries were life threatening, or required as much care as Lance’s fall had the other day. This was fortunate, given their now pressing need to move even more stealthily and hurriedly away from that area and hopefully toward a secure and hidden location where they could set up camp for the night.

 

Keira guided them with ever more caution than usual, making them stop and take cover on several occasions when potential enemy movement was detected or perceived.

Many of these instances were no more than regular forest noise, but on one occasion as they hid in a grove of evergreens, the clear and distinct sound of twigs snapping and muttered voices could be heard from somewhere a little too close for comfort.

 

 

As the sun had begun to dip toward the horizon, Matt, who had been scouting ahead of the group, guided them toward a secluded cavernous area on the side of a slope, where the soft sound of a waterfall drowned out any major noises they could make.

 

 

By that time, the soldier’s blood had dried on Lance’s hands.

Dried, and adhered to Keith’s hand, as he had never once let Lance go since the attack.

 

 

Lance had pulled himself back from the verge of a breakdown, but it still felt inevitable – a lurking presence out of the corner of his eye, threatening to tear apart the fragile shred of mental normalcy he had been able to scrounge together.

Every breath felt like a decision he had to make correctly, and his body ached in the same weak, quavering way it always did after a gut-wrenching cry.

He had put all of his trust in Keith, as they had made their way through the forest.

And, although it may have sounded ironic after Lance’s intense surge of protectiveness during the attack – after the need to save Keith’s life and make sure no harm came to him – it wasn’t all that illogical. Because even though Lance didn’t completely trust Keith to look out for his own safety anymore, nothing could make him doubt Keith’s ability of willingness to keep Lance alive.

Lance was so focused on holding himself together, he only vaguely heard Keith talking to someone about getting cleaned up – followed by a tug on their joined hands indicating Keith was leading him somewhere.

 

 

It was the jolt from the icy water Keith shoved their hands into that shocked Lance’s system enough to restart his brain and clear away the haze.

 

“Are you with me?”

 

Lance let his eyes swivel over to meet with Keith’s, and found something hard in that gaze. The concern was still there, peeking around the corners, but it was accompanied by something else, now – something that demanded answers.

Swallowing thickly, Lance nodded. “Y…yeah,” he croaked. “Yeah, I am.”

“I’m gonna get you cleaned up,” Keith’s voice was as rough as his hands as he started to scrub the dried blood from Lance’s skin. “And then we’re going to talk.”

 

 

***

 

 

There was a small cavern by the base of the waterfall.

The sounds of rushing water masked their voices from prying ears, and Keith took full advantage of that – folding his arms and raising his voice to a stern, take no prisoners level.

“What is going on with you today?”

Lance pressed against the cavern wall behind him, feeling the cool, rough sensation of the rock against his back and hoping it would help ground him. “What do you mean?” From the second he opened his mouth and a snappy tone emerged, however, he understood there was no way of starting this off in a civil manner. There was too many emotions inside his heart screaming for escape. “Was it so wrong of me to protect you from getting attacked?”

“Lance –“ Keith held up his hands, trying very obviously and ironically to be the calm one. “That wasn’t…that wasn’t you protecting me. That wasn’t you at all. You beat that guy to death, Lance. With a stick. Do you understand that? What is going on?”

“Well maybe that’s just who I have to be now.” It was infuriating, the way Keith was standing there like he wasn’t the direct cause of Lance’s actions. “I think you made it pretty clear that you’re not going to do it, so I guess I’m just being a good right hand man, here, and –“

“I’m not going to do what?”

“Keep yourself safe.” Breath was catching high in Lance’s lungs. He dug his fingers into the sinuous cracks and veins of the rock, trying to focus, trying – “Keep yourself alive.”

A hint of something flickering across Keith’s gaze. Recognition? Understanding? Acceptance? “I…don’t know where this is coming from,” he spoke carefully. “I’ve always been able to protect myself.”

Lance pushed himself away from the wall – away from the chill of the stone, away from anything holding him in place. He stood on his own, vulnerable and resolute, because now was the moment he had been putting off; now was the moment they worked this out. “Oh yeah? Look me in the face and tell me you want to stay alive, then.”

Keith’s eyebrows pinched inwards before he was shaking off the expression and taking a half step backwards. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You remember, don’t you? You’re just pretending to ignore it.” Lance wasn’t having it. He wasn’t dancing around this any longer. “What you said to me last night. Telling me that you basically wanted to die.”

Keith’s shoulders had stiffened after Lance’s first question, but now he visibly relaxed – which was only fuel to the flames of Lance’s growing anger. “Oh. Well…sorry you had to hear that. It really isn’t a big deal though.”

“Keith – what the fuck?”

Keith raised both hands in a shrug. “What? What are you –“  Then he paused, eyes narrowing at Lance. “Is that why you’ve been acting so clingy? Why you’re so…angry?”

“Yes!” Desperation had pushed its way to the front of the pack, grabbing hold of Lance’s ribs like prison bars. “Of course fucking yes! But also…I’m really sad, Keith. Fuck – I’m just…sad at you, you dick.”

“That’s not –“

“I know it’s not a fucking expression, but it’s what I am!” Lance felt like he was trying to reason with a brick wall. “How can you not see this as a big deal? Why was it a big deal when I died, but not now? What am I supposed to do with this, Keith? Like, how concerned do I need to be? Should I not leave you alone anymore? What do I…” Desperation gave way to guilt as Lance slumped back against the cavern wall, hands pressing against his eye sockets. “Fuck. I knew something was different. I knew something was wrong.” He wasn’t sure he was even talking to Keith anymore. “I should have pushed harder. I should have made you talk to me. I should have done something.”

The rushing sound of the waterfall served as perfect background music to accompany the quiet regret in Keith’s voice: “I wish I hadn’t said anything.”

Lance sniffed, not looking up. “Yeah? Well, I wish you’d said something earlier. I wish you didn’t have to get black out drunk to actually tell me how you feel. And I wish you understood how much I want you around, and…and how much I wish you wanted to stick around.”

One of Keith’s boots kicked at a loose rock, sending it skittering away across the spray-dampened ground. “I’m not gonna – uuuugh. Lance. Do you seriously think I’m gonna go and off myself the minute I’m out of your sight?”

“That’s kinda what it fucking sounded like last night.”

The frustration in Keith’s tone built. “It’s not like that. I don’t know how I can… Hey. Look.”

Lance waited for him to continue. When he did, his voice had gone surprisingly gentle. “Lance, look at me.”

 

The fading evening light played across the sharp features of Keith’s face, catching on the troubled expression pinching his brow. And Lance had never felt so conflicted, as he wanted to reach out and smooth that expression away with a tender touch, even as his anger boiled in the pit of his stomach.

 

“I’m not suicidal, so you don’t need to worry about me, okay? I promise it’s not like that.” Keith drew in a breath and held it for a moment before letting it out on a long sigh. His next words were chosen with a kind of meticulous apprehension. “But…if I have the choice between me dying and someone else dying, it had better be me. I don’t know if I can explain this, but…it’s like, if I died, it would be okay. No one is waiting for me back home, so it wouldn’t be as bad.” If his words weren’t already speaking volumes to Lance, the indifferent shrug would have made his point known.

“Like at Naxzella, right?” Keith continued, like they were discussing what to eat for lunch. “If Lotor hadn’t shown up, and I’d have been able to go through with it, it would have been worth it because it would have saved you all. Because if I have the chance to make a difference; if I have a chance to protect everyone, I’m going to take it without any regret, no matter what it costs me. We’re in a literal war. This shouldn’t be a hard concept to get!”

Lance’s muscles were locked so tight, everything felt cold and rigid and numb. Because – “Gone through with what?” His voice sounded hollow to his own ears. “If Lotor hadn’t shown up –“

“The rebels weapons weren’t working, remember? And we needed something to shatter the barrier around the cruiser that was there – to disrupt the witch’s control over the bomb.” Keith shrugged, palms up. “So I was going to use my ship because we were out of options. It would have worked, but Lotor showed up and –“

“You were going to use your ship to break the barrier. Your ship…with you inside it?” When Keith only gave a small expression of acknowledgement, Lance’s hands began to shake. “You wouldn’t have survived that.”

“That’s my point, Lance. That’s what I’m trying to say. If I have the choice –“

“You did have the choice. You chose to kill yourself.”

Keith exhaled slowly through his nose, like he was trying to remain calm. “No. I chose to save you all.”

“By sacrificing yourself.” There was a buzzing in Lance’s ears. He felt like something was pulling Keith farther and farther away from him; like he needed to do something right here and now or Keith would slip out of his reach forever.

 

“I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“No, I don’t understand – because you told me you wouldn’t try to end your life, and then gave me a literal example of a time you actually, consciously tried to do exactly that!”

“It wasn’t about me, that’s what I’m saying, though!” Keith threw his hands up, voice rising in exasperation. “The choice wasn’t I’m depressed and I can’t handle this anymore. It was If I don’t do this everyone is going to die.” He took a step toward Lance, eyes cold and brows pulled down in a scowl. “The choice was If I am not the one to do this, someone else might. Someone with a family. Someone who will be missed.”

 

He had moved closer to Lance, now, yet he had never felt so far away.

Under normal circumstances Lance might have backed off. But not now. Not when he couldn’t feel his legs enough to move, even if he had wanted to.

 

“Like I learned from the Blade –“ The certainty in Keith’s voice was chilling. “It was a necessary sacrifice.”

In comparison, when Lance spoke, his voice cracked on a pitiful attempt to convey confidence past the tightness in his throat. “You’re not a necessary sacrifice, Keith. You’re not a mission. You’re not some replaceable soldier. You’re the one who doesn’t understand.”

“Oh yeah? And what don’t I understand?”

“You don’t seem to get how much I missed you while you were gone. And somehow you seem to think that none of us would care if you died!”

“Because you wouldn’t.” Keith sounded so sure, so adamant – and it didn’t make any sense.

But it did help pull Lance out of despair and back toward anger, because – “How do you know that?” he demanded. “You fucking don’t. You left, Keith! You left to join the Blade, and apparently you weren’t going to come back. You weren’t going to –“ The words felt sticky on his tongue. “You don’t know what it was like without you.”

Lance’s anger was apparently contagious.

“You think I just left on – on a whim?” Keith’s fists clenched at his sides. “I left because you all made it very clear I wasn’t wanted anymore!”

Lance threw his hands up. “How, Keith? How in the fuck did you come to that conclusion? Because from where I was standing, it was super obvious that you wanted to leave for the Blade. And that nothing any of us said or did could have stopped you, you stubborn asshole! We didn’t force you out. We didn’t tell you to get lost, we –“

“You didn’t have to!” Keith snarled. “I know what it means to walk into a room and have everyone look at you like – “ Abruptly, he cut himself off, running his hands through his hair.

“Like what?”

Keith shook his head, letting his bangs hang over his eyes.

Lance took one step forward. “Look at you like what, Keith?”

 

“Like you all hated me so much. Like I didn’t belong anymore.”

 

The words caught Lance off guard – an image of Keith’s face falling as he walked away from the team that day flashing through his mind.

“You were all so angry at me,” Keith continued, tone subdued and gaze fixed on the ground. “Everyone was always so obvious about how bad I was as the leader, and I knew I could never…I just couldn’t live up to it. I couldn’t be…” He shook his head again. “We were one too many. Someone needed to go, and it…it had to be me.” When he glanced up, his eyes were hard and his smile sharp and humorless. “I know I’m bad in most social situations, but I’m pretty much the expert in figuring out when I am not wanted anymore. So I started pulling away from the team.”

 

Lance wanted to interrupt. He wanted to protest and deny it all, but he wasn’t sure that he could.

 

“At first, I was selfish. I wanted to see if anyone would notice. I wanted you all to realize that you needed me. But –“ For one second, Keith’s voice faltered before leveling back out. “But you didn’t. It was so easy for you all to go on without me, so I needed to leave. I was screwing everything up, and everyone knew it. Everyone knew I was the problem, but no one was ever going to say it, so –“ He laughed, harsh and bitter. “So of course I wasn’t gonna come back. Except I did, and now you’re all stuck with me again, and I…I’m trying? I’m trying to make it work because for so long, I just wanted to be part of…” Keith’s sharp teeth clamped down on his lower lip as he swayed, tense and frozen for a moment before drawing in a huge breath and straightening up.

Lance watched the emotion drain from his face. He watched those elegant features settle into something blank and apathetic – and the change was so stark, it was as if Keith had literally placed a porcelain mask over his face. “But I’m not, because it’s never mattered what I want. So, yeah. I’m not going to kill myself, but I have always been the expendable one, so –“

 

The mask fractured into genuine surprise as Keith stumbled back, his reflexes kicking in just in time to catch himself from falling over with the force of Lance’s two-handed shove.

 

“I’m sorry – shit – I’m sorry, it’s just –“

 

The expression that took over Keith’s face as their eyes met showed Lance exactly how unhinged he must have looked in that moment – shaking, furious, tears on his cheeks – but he was already so far past the point of caring.

“This is the closest I’ve ever been to actually hating you. And I would…I probably would,” Lance choked out. “If I didn’t hate myself just that much more.”

“Why would you –“ Keith seemed to still be recovering from the shock of that shove.

“Because I wanted to ask you to stay. That day. The day you left.” Lance was relieved he was still able to speak through his tears. “I saw you leave. I saw the look on your face, and I wanted…I wanted to run after you. I wanted to tell you we could figure things out and find a way for everyone to…” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Keith’s. “I thought I was doing what you wanted by staying behind. I thought if I’d said anything, it would have only made things worse. I thought you wanted to go! And now…you’re saying that if I had been just a bit less of a fucking coward, you never would have left? And if you had never left, you might not have tried to fucking blow yourself up? You might not think that you’re expendable? You might actually believe me when I say I missed you so fucking much, Keith. Every fucking day –“ His voice finally gave out, caving under the pressure and breaking with his tears. One hand reached out and grabbed onto the front of Keith’s shirt, needing to grasp onto something – needing to touch him –

 

“Don’t hate yourself for this. It’s not your responsibility.”

“Stop – just stop it!” The words slid from Lance’s lips on a sob, shattering on the floor. “You didn’t – you weren’t even gonna say goodbye. At Naxzella. We were right there, and you weren’t –” The realization brought on another burning wave of anguish. “You were just going to disappear –“

Lance felt Keith shift on his feet, but he refused to let go of his shirt.

“There wasn’t time.”

“That’s bullshit!” Lance snapped. “You didn’t say goodbye because you knew – some part of you knew we’d never let you do it!” The sharp intake of breath from Keith only confirmed what he already knew was right. “And you know what? I don’t even care what the others would’ve done, because if you think for one second I’d be okay with you sacrificing your life to save mine, you’re a fucking idiot! You have no idea how important you are to me!” Lance’s voice cracked with all the sharp severity of a plate smashing against the floor. “You don’t know what it was like to be without you! You don’t know what it was like to miss you every day. Every fucking day, Keith, I just – I just wanted you back!”

 

There was more he wanted to say. More points he wanted to yell at his idiot friend and teammate, but as Lance’s head snapped up, eyes fiery and lips curled back to continue his tirade, Keith’s expression stopped his breath.

Because Lance couldn’t keep up his attack against someone who looked so defenseless. He couldn’t yell at Keith, when for the first time, it looked like he was allowing his emotions to finally and completely show through.

Keith’s lower lip gave an almost imperceptible tremble as he whispered, fierce and anguished, “Well, I know what it’s like to miss you every fucking day. For two years. It broke my heart, Lance.”

 

 

Those words were the nudge that finally sent Lance over the edge.

 

 

He crumpled, his body caving in on itself, legs buckling. The ground was harsh and unforgiving as it collided with his knees. The sob he desperately tried to muffle behind his hands was even more so.

 

Lance was so lost in the brutality of his own misery, he didn’t know when Keith crouched down before him.

He only heard Keith speak his name once, quietly – but the world was closing in around him, and all he could manage was a shake of his head.

 

He couldn’t look at Keith.

He couldn’t form words.

His ribs felt like they were breaking, piece by piece, under the weight of his own lungs.

 

 

Keith’s hands sliding gently over his shoulders and down to his chin didn’t help. Keith’s fingers tenderly raising his head up so they could look at one another only made the tears come harder.

 

“Stop putting this on yourself, because it’s not.”

 

Lance tried to shake his head again; tried to protest, but Keith’s fingers tightened on his chin.

“It’s not.” Keith’s leader voice – all firm command and certitude – usually calmed Lance, but now it only made things worse. Because Keith should be the one breaking down right now. He shouldn’t be the one feeling the need to hold it together for Lance’s sake.

 

“Would I have stayed if you asked me?” Keith continued. “Yeah, but this isn’t on you. You’re so much more important than you think. You are the least expendable one out of all of us, and I needed you to see that.”

“Shut the fuck up, Keith!” Lance forced the words out on a sob. “I don’t fucking care! I just needed you. I needed you!”

Keith pulled back, his eyes widening. “Lance –“

“You – you left, and there was just this giant fucking hole in my life where you were supposed to be!” Lance had never broken down like this in front of anyone before – not even his own mother. “You were supposed to stay. You were supposed to come back. I can’t – I can’t lose you, and you don’t fucking understand that! You mean so fucking much to me – h-how can you not get that?”

“And you’re supposed to understand how important you are!” Keith snapped. “Because being without you was a fucking nightmare. So don’t feel guilty. Don’t call yourself a coward. Because you’re most of the reason I’m still –“ He broke off suddenly, rocking back on his heels.

“I’m what?” When Keith didn’t respond right away, Lance pressed. “I’m most of the reason you what?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Please…please give me something, here. I’m drowning, Keith!”

Keith let out a shuddering breath. His hand trembled as he wiped it across his nose. “Look, you don’t…you don’t realize how much you got me through, okay? Even at the Garrison, even when we were fighting. Arguing with you and thinking I annoyed you – it was so much better than being forgotten, okay? Even if we were just competing or whatever, you…you made me feel like I was part of something for the first time in my life.” Keith was folding in on himself, his arms wrapping protectively around his torso. “And it was different…it was different than with Shiro. He made me feel like I could be more, but also that I was supposed to be more. You made me feel like I was…like I was enough…just the way I was. Like maybe I was okay…just being me.”

 

The tears were still tracing harsh lines down Lance’s cheeks, but Keith’s words were a lifeline.

Keith’s words were a mirror, reflecting back the exact moment he, himself, had realized he wanted to be Keith’s friend and not his rival. That maybe he had found someone who could accept him, with all his flaws and all his strengths.

 

“So when I was stuck on that space whale with my mom…I thought about you, okay?” Keith’s fingers tangled in his hair, one arm shielding his face. “I thought about all the stupid things I’d been through that no one else would laugh at except you. The stupid shit that no one else would get. And thinking about being able to laugh with you again made all those days seem less…lonely.”

“I thought about you, too,” Lance whispered hoarsely. “I started training because it reminded me of you. I convinced myself if I trained hard enough, it would somehow bring you back. Like somehow if I just kept training, I would give you a reason to come home. Like if I could have just been more like you and less of a coward –”

Keith made a small, choked noise at the back of his throat. “You’re not a coward. Stop calling yourself one.”

“Yeah? And you’re not expendable. This is a two-way street, here, sweetheart.” The skin around Lance’s eyes was already red and raw, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop this next wave of tears any more than the previous ones. “Because like it or not, I fucking care about you. I care what happens to you. I care how you treat yourself. And I want –“ His throat was closing up again. “I want you to stick around. I want you to stay. I…I need you in my life, Red. I just –” His breath quavered pathetically, but he forced himself to keep going. “You – you said being without me was a nightmare? Well, being without you was hell. And I’ve had to deal with that too many times already. You keep leaving – over and over, you walk away or run off or throw yourself into situations without any concern for coming out on the other side of it. And every time you do, you’re putting me through hell, Keith. Do you get that?” He wiped furiously at his cheeks. “I fucking care about you so much. Please…please stop treating yourself like this! Please stop treating yourself like you don’t matter because it just…it hurts so much!”

 

Lance’s broken sob sounded hollow, bouncing off the walls of the cavern.

 

Then, so quietly it was almost inaudible above the noise of the waterfall – “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

Lance shook his head, his eyes squeezing shut. “I know that. I know you don’t. But you’re – you’re being really cruel to my friend, and that fucking hurts, okay?” Breathing was a chore. “I know I can’t change your mind right now. I know I can’t…erase twenty fucking years of this mindset you’ve got. But please just…please try to understand that you really fucking matter to me? Even – even if you don’t matter to yourself yet…you matter so much to me. You’ve always…”

Keith’s bottom lip had been clamped between his teeth. “You’ve always mattered to me, too.”

Lance gave one sharp shake of his head. “No. Keith, no – this isn’t about me. Can you stop deflecting for one second and just listen to –“

 

“I need it to be about you.”

The amount of vulnerability in Keith’s voice and his eyes took Lance’s breath away.

 

“I need this to be about you,” Keith repeated, quiet and imploring. “Because you’re right. I won’t start believing I matter to myself overnight. But…but knowing I matter to you – that means more. That’s what I need.” Keith’s fingers twisted in his lap, nails biting into the skin of his palms, as he stubbornly held Lance’s gaze. “If I can matter to someone like you, that’s more than I could have ever asked for. If…if I can remember how…how you reacted here, it will help because I never –“ Keith’s breath shuddered in his chest. “I don’t ever want to be the reason you hurt. I don’t want to be the reason you think of yourself as a coward, because you’re probably the bravest person I know, and you – you help me to be brave. You help so much, Lance…”

 

Lance could only stare at him. He wasn’t even sure if his heart was beating anymore. He wasn’t sure if he was breathing.

 

Slowly, he shifted forward until their legs were pressed together. When Keith’s eyes caught Lance’s, they were shiny, despite the stubborn downward curve of his lips.

“W-what?”

Lance only shook his head. “Just…being brave, I think.”

Before Keith could protest, Lance leaned in, cupping Keith’s face tenderly in his palm. He pressed one lingering kiss to Keith’s cheek before he let his arms wrap snugly around Keith’s back. He buried his head in the space between Keith’s neck and shoulder and squeezed.

 

“Lance –“ Keith’s voice cracked, and Lance tightened his arms.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Keith repeated his name, small and thin and broken.

Without thinking, Lance pressed a firm kiss to his neck – and then Keith’s arms were winding around him. His body shook once, and a small sniff was muffled against Lance’s shoulder.

Keith’s hands were trembling so violently, Lance could feel it through his vest. “I missed you so much.”

Lance’s breath left him on a shaky exhale. “I missed you, too. I just…I can’t do this without you, Keith.” The tears were back, stinging in his eyes but not falling, as memories of their conversation washed over him. “Please don’t leave me.”

 

And then everything was fraying, splintering, shattering apart as Lance heard the tiny whisper against his hair: “I don’t want to.” Keith’s voice fractured into something desperate and pleading and choked with tears. “I want to stay, Lance. I’m…I’m so tired of being alone. Please –”

 

Lance’s arms squeezed tighter, like if he could just hold on long enough and hard enough, he could mend all the parts they had broken, down here in this cavern. He shook his head as best he could without loosening his grip. “No. No, Red, you’re not alone, okay?” His hands were in Keith’s hair as he felt Keith’s shoulder tremble. “Hey, listen to me. You are not alone. No matter what happens, you will always have a place with me. Everything is better when we’re together, okay? Do you hear me?”

 

Keith made no response, but he broke in Lance’s arms.

 

And Lance held him throughout his tremulous, little sobs, and the way his body caved in on itself. Because it was what Keith needed.

 

Because it was what Lance needed, too.

 

 

***

 

Neither of them knew how long they stayed there, huddled together on the cold, damp ground, but neither wanted to be the one to let go first.

Lance’s arms had lost their crushing tightness, and now his head rested comfortably against Keith’s shoulder. He could feel the rise and fall of Keith’s chest. He could feel the soft tickle of Keith’s hair against his temple. He could feel the soft stroke of Keith’s fingers trailing small paths up and down the nape of his neck.

 

“I meant what I said, you know,” Lance murmured. “Missing you was the fucking worst, and I’m not doing it again. So if we make it back to Earth after all this, I don’t want us to go our separate ways and lose contact, okay? And if…if you jet off back to space, I want to tag along.”

For a moment he thought he’d messed up when he felt Keith begin to pull away. But then Keith’s fingers were on his chin, tilting his head up.

 

There was something so intimate about being this close to Keith. Something that made Lance hold his breath, captivated by the tiny flecks of purple he saw in Keith’s irises.

 

“You’d really be okay with that?”

Lance could only nod, feeling his chin tremble again.

“Okay, then.” A wavery smirk tugged at one corner of Keith’s mouth – and Lance wanted to press his thumb against it. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

The pet-name made Lance’s heart jack hammer in his chest, but he forced himself to say, “Don’t…don’t agree if that’s not what you want, too.”

Keith blinked large, dark eyes at him, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and clamping down on it with his teeth. Lance could feel the shaky rise and fall of his chest, before he was swallowing and giving one small nod. “I do want that. I would…love that.”

The grin those words pulled from Lance’s lips was involuntary and unavoidable. All he could do was hide his face in Keith’s shoulder again with a breathy sigh of “Yeah. Me too.”

 

 

***

 

 

Both of them were reluctant to separate, but the chill and dark of the night creeping in forced them to climb back up to the camp and join the others.

Lance’s fingers had latched onto the back of Keith’s shirt, and he never let go as they walked past several pairs of prying eyes to where someone had blessedly already pitched their tent.

Even as they went about their nightly routines, neither strayed far from the other’s side.

 

Something had changed in their relationship, down in that cavern. Something had shifted.

 

Whatever this unspoken, unacknowledged thing was, it made Lance not even think twice about crawling into his bedroll and scooting over to one side, looking expectantly up at Keith to join him.

Apparently that something was exactly the same for Keith, because he slipped into Lance’s bedroll without hesitation.

 

 

The two of them lay in silence for a moment, Lance on his side and Keith on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the tent.

“I might have nightmares.” Keith’s voice broke the silence surrounding them.

“I know.”

“I might wake you up.” It sounded like a preemptive apology.

Lance flipped over onto his back with a sigh. “If you feel so bad about it, then go back to your own bed.”

The silence pulled them back in for a moment, before Keith whispered. “I might…hug you again in my sleep.”

Lance turned his head to the side to find Keith already watching him, eyes wide and wary. “You know, if that’s the case, we should probably just get that part over with,” he whispered, the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

He didn’t question it when Keith pushed himself up on one elbow; he only slipped his arm beneath his friend and let Keith settle into place against his side.

 

The weight of Keith’s arm around his waist felt right.

Tracing his fingertips up and down the exposed skin of Keith’s bicep felt as comfortable as breathing.

 

 

“Stay with me, Red,” Lance whispered into the darkness.

 

 

Keith gave no response, but Lance felt him press against his side just a little more. He felt Keith’s fingers wind around the fabric of his shirt. He felt the soft, shuddering breath Keith let out against the sensitive skin of his neck.

 

And Lance knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was it for him.

 

This was everything.

 

 

 

END OF CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

Chapter 8: IDENTICAL

Summary:

Keith begins to realize some things.

Notes:

WARNING: Graphic violence/blood.
There is also now a mini comic based on a scene from this chapter made by iybms, and it's amazing!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT – IDENTICAL

Keith POV

 

 

 

Keith could count all the times he remembered crying on one hand.

           

The years spent with his dad were the closest to normal he had ever had, so naturally he had cried the same way any child would – after skinning their knee, or having a nightmare. But he didn’t have any real memory of those times.

 

He had cried after his dad has passed away, of course.

But his time being passed around to different foster homes and orphanages had taught him to keep his emotions tucked away as much as he was able.

 

Ever since then, the only other times he could recall crying were with Adam, when he thought he was going to get kicked out of the Garrison, and then once, alone in his cabin, when the realization the Shiro might actually be gone forever had really sunk in.

 

Oh, and one more time – silent tears falling into the folds of the scratchy blanket he had wrapped around himself after the battle at Naxzella, when he realized that no one from the team was going to reach out and check it he was okay.

 

And then…last night.

In front of Lance.

Against Lance’s shoulder as Lance held him and whispered that he wasn’t going to be alone.

 

 

The last thing he had ever wanted was to cry in front of Lance, because it had been drilled into Keith’s brain that tears were nothing but a weakness.

Except… Lance had also cried.

Lance had used his tears to hammer his point home – he had unleashed his emotions on Keith, and had left him defenseless in their aftermath.

And not once during that entire conversation had Keith thought of Lance as being weak.

Lance had stood before him, tears dripping off his chin – shaking and sobbing and shouting – and Keith had never felt more cared for in his life.

 

Furthermore, Lance had not made fun of Keith for breaking down – because of course he hadn’t.

Because Lance hadn’t needed Keith to be the leader in that moment. He hadn’t needed Keith to be strong and fearless.

He hadn’t needed Keith to shove his emotions away; to put on a brave face and pretend everything was all okay.

He had needed Keith to open up. He had needed him to be truthful.

He had needed him to be emotional.

 

 

He had needed Keith to be human. And that wasn’t a weakness.

 

 

***

 

 

The tent was still dim as Keith’s eyes peeled open – eyelids heavy and raw from the previous night.

As he shifted on the bedroll, two things became obvious.

The first was that he had forgotten how tolling emotional outbursts were, physically and mentally. His muscles ached and his limbs felt as heavy and slow as his mind.

Which was partially why the second things took him a moment to realize.

 

He was pressed up against Lance’s side, one knee nestled in between his thighs. Keith’s arm was not only thrown across Lance’s stomach, but one of his hands had snaked underneath the shirt, where he could feel the warmth of Lance’s skin and the gentle rise and fall of his ribcage.

 

Upon that realization, Keith froze, his mind spinning out as he desperately tried to think of how he could extract himself without waking Lance.

But then he paused.

 

Because…something had changed.

Something had happened last night, and he was sure Lance knew it, too.

 

It was more than the other day when they had woken up entangled, and Lance had been so nonchalant about physical touch. It was more than the few hugs they had exchanged before.

 

They had shared something down in that cavern by the waterfall. Their embrace had lingered to the point where Keith had felt comfortable; to the point where he was starting to feel familiar with the sensation of Lance’s back and shoulders beneath his hands.

It hadn’t just been a hug.

It had been the beginning of something new. Something different. Something that made Keith remain where he was as the fear of being caught snuggling up against Lance faded into the background of his mind.

 

 

Keith couldn’t decide if it was a fearful sound or something else, but either way, it made him want to press closer.

His fingers twitched with the sheer effort of keeping them still – from keeping them from sliding further up Lance’s shirt. His whole body was tense, fighting against the urge to shift his weight on top of Lance.

Because he shouldn’t.

He knew he shouldn’t.

 

So, with more effort than he had ever put into anything, Keith slid his hand from beneath Lance’s shirt, reaching up to gently shake him by the shoulder. “Hey, you awake?”

Lance’s head fell to the side, that same sound coming from the back of his throat.

But this time there was no mistaking it.

 

Lance’s body shuddered and his brow screwed up – and Keith was all too familiar with the signs of a nightmare to ignore what was happening, now.

“Lance. Hey – wake up.”

Lance made another noise of discomfort, his face scrunching and his fingers twitching.

Unthinking, Keith heaved himself up, hovering over Lance as he shook him by the shoulder as gently as he could.

Fortunately, it worked, as Lance’s eyes flew open, his gaze bleary for a minute as he adjusted to the world around him. Those eyes finally settled on Keith’s face, wide and clear.

Except Lance didn’t shrink away from him. He didn’t yell in surprise or squirm out from beneath Keith’s arms. He simply stared, his expression softening – and Keith didn’t know what to do with that.

“You were having a nightmare, I think,” he blurted in a poor attempt at an explanation. “I wasn’t – I mean… Sorry, I was just trying to wake you up.”

He attempted to move, but Lance’s fist was wound up in his shirt, holding him in place.

 

“Keith? This right here? This is wrong.”

 

Keith’s eyes darted away as a painful spike surged through his gut, but before he could respond, Lance was pushing against his chest, and suddenly Keith was flat on his back staring up at Lance with wide eyes.

Lance bit his lip, as he tried to keep his grin at bay. “If I remember correctly,” he murmured. “This is your preferred position.”

 

Keith was reeling from what he had thought was the ultimate rejection, so it took him a moment before –

 

“Oh, get fucked Lance!” He tried to put all the indignance into his voice, but the words dissolved into a laugh of equal parts relief and humor.

“Me get fucked? I thought you were the one who – “

With a growl, Keith grabbed Lance around the waist, hooked one leg between his and flipped them over again.

 

Lance was laughing breathily, his eyes sparkling as he grinned up at Keith – and Keith was too caught up in the moment.

Too wound up from the previous night; from this morning – from the sight of the person he loved smiling up at him like that –

 

He was in between Lance’s bent knees, and he leaned down – not quite far enough to put his weight onto Lance, but enough to hear it as Lance softly caught his breath.

“Did you ever consider,” he whispered, trying not to smirk. “That being on my back is not my preferred position?”

Something dangerous passed across Lance’s face. “Oh yeah?” He raised his hands, making a motion like he was writing something down on a notepad. “Do enlighten me so I can take notes. And be sure to include all the specifics.”

“One day, if you’re very good, I might give you a demonstration.”

 

 

The words seemed to have a similar effect on both of them because just as Keith froze in panic over what had just come out of his mouth, so did Lance, his mouth falling open and cheeks flushing with color.

Hurriedly, so Lance would not notice how his own face was reddening, Keith got up and moved over to their supplies in the corner, busying himself with anything to take his mind off of what had just occurred.

 

“I will have you know,” Lance’s smug voice made Keith’s shoulders hitch up half an inch. “I have been very good lately. I saved your life, and defended your honor, and got you to open up so we could have a deep, meaningful heart to heart last night. I think that deserves something, don’t you?”

Keith tossed a halfhearted glare over his shoulder – only to find Lance sitting cross-legged on the bedroll, grinning like an idiot.

“Yeah, it does deserve something,” Keith replied, suppressing the flutter in his chest as he stepped back over to stand above Lance. “Here,” he said, holding out a hand. “Your reward is the act of brushing your teeth. Congratulations.”

“Awww man,” Lance groaned, grabbing Keith’s hand and letting himself he hauled up to his feet. “That’s a boring reward.”

He grabbed his own supplies, and they both went about brushing their teeth in silence.

Keith finished first, turning to get the rest of his gear ready. He heard Lance finishing up, and when he turned back around Lance was watching him, head cocked to one side.

“How are you feeling?”

For a moment, Keith could only stare back, trying to sort out his thoughts; trying to decide how truthful he wanted to be.

“If you actually meant what you said last night…” he said finally. “Then I’m good.”

Lance held his gaze for a second, before stepping closer.

There was nothing but sincerity in Lance’s eyes. “I meant literally every word I said last night.”

Keith’s fingers curled into fists as he fought off the urge to reach out and grab Lance’s shirt. “So, if…when we get back to the team… After we win our own war and go back to Earth.” His heart was hammering out an erratic rhythm against his ribcage. “If I came to you after a while and told you I wanted to head back out here – to explore and travel and have adventures, you would –“

He went quiet as Lance held up a finger. “Hm. Nope. See, you’re forgetting one very important piece of information there, man. You wouldn’t need to come find me, because I would…” For a moment Lance faltered. He drew in a breath before letting it out, his face settling into something oddly determined. “I would really like for you to come and meet my family.”

Keith’s heart rate skyrocketed, making him feel lightheaded. But that elation was immediately stamped down by the crushing foot of doubt. “That’s not…we don’t –“

“It’s for people who are important to me.” Lance raised an eyebrow. “And after last night, you should definitely know you are one of those people.”

 

Maybe it was the lingering honesty from the previous night – maybe it was the after effects of Keith’s walls crumbling down – but he heard himself whispering. “Yeah, but I didn’t think I was…that important to you. To meet your –“

“Seriously? Even after everything I said to you? Yelled at you?”

Keith found it hard to meet Lance’s eyes. “I know. But it’s…not the same. I mean, we’re…we’re the only ones here. And our emotions were really high last night. So just…” he drew in a shallow breath. “You’re saying it now, and that’s… But when we get back, after everything is over, if you don’t…if you change your mind, I’m just saying it will be fine. I’ll underst –“

Keith’s words were cut off as anger flashed across Lance’s face and then he was striding forward and grabbing Keith – his hands sliding into Keith’s hair as his fingers cupped the back of his neck.

“Red, listen to me.” Lance was all seriousness.

He was so close, Keith found himself holding his breath.

“Everything I said last night…I didn’t say what I thought you needed to hear, okay, I –“ Lance floundered for a second, his cheeks tinged pink. “All the things I said were things I had always wanted to say to you. They were already there, in my head, before all this.”

Keith found that his hands had latched onto Lance’s sides without his permission.

“You are important to me.” Lance’s voice was soft and earnest and it was almost too much. “You’ve always been important to me. What I’m saying is, it – it won’t change when we go back, okay? It won’t be different.”

Keith squeezed his eyes shut and –

“Look at me, Red.”

“I don’t want to cry again.” The words escaped on a shaky breath. “I…I want to…”

 

He wanted to kiss Lance.

More than he’d ever wanted to do anything in his life.

And he knew if he opened his eyes, that temptation would win out.

 

“I want…”

 

But it was more than that.

 

He wanted to find the words to convey how much Lance meant to him. He wanted to give Lance everything that he deserved. He wanted to show Lance how important he was; to make him see that he was…

He was everything.

To Keith, he was everything.

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Lance’s voice was a lifeline pulling him back. “I get it. Big feelings are hard, right?” For a moment Lance paused, his thumbs brushing absentmindedly across Keith’s cheekbones. “Just think about it, okay? You don’t have to. But if you wanted…I’d love for you to meet my family, and I know they’d be so happy to meet you, too.”

 

Blindly, eyes still shut, Keith pitched forward until his forehead met with Lance’s shoulder.

There weren’t words that balanced along the tightrope between acceptable things to say to a friend, and everything he wanted to say to the person he loved. Not in this situation. Not here, with Lance’s fingers gently combing through the hair at the back of Keith’s neck.

 

The hope he had tried to smother for so long was back – blazing like a wildfire in Keith’s chest.

 

I want to kiss you.

I want to hold onto you forever.

I want to meet your family.

 

I want –

 

“I want to be better,” Keith’s voice decided to say instead. “When I meet your family. I want to be…” Better. Worthy. Good enough. Someone you can be proud of. “I don’t want to be your pathetic friend who can’t handle his own emotions.”

Lance’s fingers stilled in Keith’s hair. “I…know you’re not just going to immediately believe me if I deny that whole statement, so…” He paused, and when he continued, Keith felt the soft press of Lance’s cheek against his hair. “This’ll just be something we work on together, okay? I’ll help you realize there’s nothing pathetic about you, and in exchange maybe you could help remind me that I’m not a failure and a coward.”

“You’re not –“ The immediate response was to deny it, of course. Because Lance wasn’t a coward or a failure, and Keith knew that. But Lance was right – it wouldn’t have changed anything for his own feelings to be denied, so instead he pressed in just a little closer, murmuring, “Okay. Whatever you need, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t meant to say it, the pet name had just slipped out with all the sincerity in Keith’s heart.

They were so close, Keith felt the shuddering breath as it traveled through Lance’s body. “Okay.” Lance’s breath ruffled Keith’s hair. “Okay, yeah. One more request. Just…keep calling me that.”

Keith dared to turn his head just a little – just enough so that his nose brushed against Lance’s neck. “If you keep calling me Red, we’ve got a deal.”

Lance’s laugh was breathy and warm. “Oh, you like that, now? Because I recall –“

“You called me that when you told me I wasn’t alone.”

Abruptly, Lance was pulling away, his hands on Keith’s cheeks, his eyes dark and blue and close and full of intensity. “And you called me sweetheart when you agreed to stay together after all of this.”

 

Lance was so close, and Keith was going to kiss him.

He was right there – and Keith was definitely going to kiss him.

He was –

 

“Lance –“

 

He might –

 

 

I would really like for you to come and meet my family.

You are important to me.

Look at me, Red.

Stay with me, Red.

 

 

The realization hit Keith in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs.

The hope blazed bright – a massive, fiery ball of anticipation and desire, because –

 

Because Lance was going to kiss him.

 

He could practically see the decision being made.

He could see the choice – the resolve – in Lance’s eyes.

He could feel it in the way Lance’s fingers tensed against his head.

 

 

And Keith wanted it so badly, he let his eyes slide shut again. He let his hands press gently against Lance’s back, urging him on.

He let his body betray his heart.

 

 

The kiss was so gentle – just the barest press of Lance’s lips against his – and yet it swept Keith up in the current of his own emotions, making his fingers curl against the fabric of Lance’s shirt. It made him press into the kiss with the smallest sound at the back of his throat.

It made him want to open his mouth. To let Lance in. To give himself over.

 

But then Lance was pulling away, his breath shuddering from his lips on a reverent whisper of Keith’s name.

Keith’s arms were fully wrapped around Lance’s back, his own breath high in his chest –

And then he was tilting his head, pressing back in, his lips against Lance’s. And they were soft and pliant, and Lance’s hands were burying themselves in Keith’s hair, cradling his head, pulling him in, and –

 

 

“Keith. McClain.”

 

 

They broke away from one another, their eyes searching the others’ – trying to hang onto this one moment of intimacy, before Lance was scowling and turning toward the tent entrance. “Yeah. We’re both awake.”

 

Keith heard Curtis’s feet shift on the grass outside their tent. “Right. So…we’re packing up soon. Just wanted to let you know, and…check to see if you’re both okay.”

Lance opened his mouth, but Keith silenced him with a little squeeze of Lance’s waist. He raised his voice enough for Curtis to hear, but addressed his answer directly at Lance. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

 

He didn’t hear Curtis’ acknowledgement. He didn’t hear him leave.

Battles could have been raging on the other side of that tent flap, and Keith still wouldn’t have heard it.

 Because Lance’s eyes were wide as they held his own, and the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth looks a lot like hope to Keith.

 

 

 

***

 

 

Stepping out into the daylight felt strange.

Everything around Keith was moving normally – functioning as it always had. And that was strange because it felt as though it shouldn’t be.

Everything that had happened since they entered the cavern the previous night, right up until their interrupted kiss only moments before, was such a monumental shift in Keith’s world, he felt like the actual world should have also changed to accommodate it.

 

The act of packing up their tent was both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing, because it was a distraction that gave Keith something to do with his hands, but a curse because it left him alone with his thoughts.

His thoughts that were still raw and vulnerable after everything that had been brought out into the light.

His thoughts that painstakingly went back over every part of his and Lance’s recent interactions, picking each word and phrase and gesture apart to the point of overthinking.

The more Keith’s mind relived everything, the more it dredged up feelings of guilt and shame – feelings that could not be appeased by Lance’s earlier words of reassurance.

 

Feelings that lead him down a familiar darkened path that ended in his inner most insecurities and fears.

And with every step down that path, he was reminded more and more of one thing in particular.

 

He was the leader of Voltron.

He was responsible for Lance’s life and the lives of his whole team.

And despite his earlier concession that Lance wouldn’t see his tears as weakness, he couldn’t rid himself of the gnawing fear came in the aftermath of his breakdown.

 

What if when you get back, the voice inside his head whispered, Lance tells the team that you are not mentally fit to lead anymore? A leader must be the strongest. And you admitted to him just how broken and fragile you really are.

 

No. The force of Keith’s thought bled through into his limbs, causing him to yank one of the tent stakes from the ground with more force than necessary. Lance isn’t like that. He doesn’t go behind peoples’ backs and throw them under the bus. He said he was being honest. You can trust him. You know you can. He –

 

He kissed you.

 

 

Keith’s hand stilled above the next stake as that thought momentarily quieted the darkness creeping through his mind.

 

Lance had kissed him.

Lance had kissed him.

 

He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t –

 

But what if he didn’t mean it? The intrusive darkness whispered. What if he was just feeling sorry for you?

Stop it. Keith bit his lower lip, standing up and running a hand through his hair. Just shut up.

 

Lance was a huge flirt, he knew that. But Keith also knew him well enough to know when he was being serious. He knew Lance well enough to know that he wasn’t the kind of person who would play with someone else’s emotions – especially after learning so much about how Keith really felt.

 

But what about Lance’s emotions? The darkness breathed in Keith’s ear. What if he was just caught up in everything and wanted to be close to someone? Not you. Just…someone.

 

And that, unfortunately, wasn’t something Keith could shut down without any doubt.

Sure, Lance had said he was special. But many people were special to Lance because that was just the way he cared for others. That was just the kind of person he was.

And sure, Lance had said he was being completely honest about the things he had said the previous night. But Keith also couldn’t completely dismiss the circumstances that had brought those words out. He couldn’t say with certainty that things would be the same after all of this; he couldn’t think so highly of himself that he could be sure Lance would still feel the same way after they got back home.

 

 

 

“Hey, man. I just wanted to check in on you.”

 

It wasn’t Lance, as Keith turned around, but Alvarez standing there, holding out a protein bar.

Keith took it with a sigh. “Yeah. I’m fine.” His eyes narrowed as they trailed briefly up and down the other man’s body. “How about you?”

Alvarez folded his arms across his chest and raised one eyebrow, fully judging. “Spare me the Kogane “I’m fine” that means actually everything’s falling apart.” He leaned into Keith’s personal space. “Or maybe you’re forgetting that I know Keira on a very personal level, which means I know you.”

 

Keith regarded him for a minute. Alvarez did know Keira. But more importantly he knew himself, which meant he also knew Lance.

 

“How long have you and Keira been together again?”

“That’s…a pretty loaded question.”

Keith frowned. “No it’s not?”

Alvarez gave him a pointed look before settling back into one hip. “No, you see, it depends on what you want to know. How long have we been messing around? How long have we officially been in a relationship? How long have we had feelings for each other? How long have I known she’s the love of my life?” He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “All different answers.”

Keith’s surprise must have shown on his face because Alvarez laughed.

“Oh, please. Do you really think I could be around her all day for years and nothing was gonna happen between us?” Before Keith could even answer, he smacked one palm against his forehead dramatically. “Oh, wait. That’s right. I forgot you are literally the same person as she is, and apparently have absolutely no idea that you’re just walking around being the hottest person in existence.”

When Alvarez only looked at him expectantly, Keith held up both hands. “Are you looking for a response? What am I supposed to say to that?”

“You could own up to it, for starters. Take responsibility for your own hotness and the things it does to little old me.”

Cheeks burning, Keith averted his eyes. “So you…do you think I’m hot?”

Alvarez snorted. “My dude, I am literally dating you, so –“

That drew Keith’s attention back to the face that was both so familiar and so unfamiliar at the same time. “You’re dating Keira.”

“Yeah.” Alvarez gave him a look like And?

“I mean,” Keith persisted. “There’s a difference.”

Alvarez’s eyes searched his for a moment before a serious look settled in. “Oh, you really think there is, don’t you?” He put one hand on his hip and cocked his head to one side. “Okay, so I think this is a conversation you should have with your own Lance.” As Keith opened his mouth to speak, Alvarez leaned in, holding up a silencing finger. “Because if you have to ask why there’s no difference to me, there’s a part of him you don’t know apparently, and it’s not my place to tell you.”

“Why not,” Keith grumbled. “If everything is apparently the same?”

“Because it’s still his life.” Alvarez clapped a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I’ve already lived this part, and I’m not super into having to repeat it.” He started to step away, walking backwards and, in true Lance fashion, shooting Keith double finger guns. “Besides, conversations like this with Keira usually ended up with me using my mouth in some form or another, and since we haven’t established if that would qualify as cheating, I’m gonna leave you and your own Lance to handle that.”

In further Lance fashion, Alvarez smirked at Keith, whose face was stuck in what he could only assume was the epitome of embarrassment.

In a whisper loud enough for anyone close by to hear, Alvarez added, “You’re thinking about it, now, aren’t you? We’re very good, I can tell you that much.”

He even had the audacity to wink, before turning to leave Keith with that image in his head. Which only made the situation worse, because apparently the only thing Keith thought to respond with was to call after Alvarez’s retreating back, “Yeah, well, I’m not so bad myself!”

“Oh, I am well aware!”

 

“Not so bad at what?”

Keith knew how red his face must have been as he tried not to look at Lance who had sidled up to help him pack up the rest of the tent.

“Nothing!” Keith snapped at the same time Alvarez called over his shoulder, “All the glorious uses of the mouth, my dude!”

“All the –oh.” Lance caught up to the meaning mid-sentence.

For a second Lance’s eyes caught Keith’s and they both shared a glance, red faced and wide eyed, before both hurriedly looking away.

Keith could hear Alvarez’ cackling laugh as he moved further away, before he was calling out to the rest of the group that it was time to put the final touches on their packing and move out.

The two of them finished packing up their tent and supplies in awkward silence, and Keith tried his absolute best to look anywhere but at Lance’s mouth.

 

 

***

 

 

The group moved more cautiously through the forest, in the hopes of avoiding another sneak attack. The last one had ended with only several minor injuries, but it was clear and present in everyone’s minds that it could easily have been much worse.

Keira strode out at the front of the pack with a demeanor Keith was all too familiar with.

Every swing of her arm, every step, every twist of her head all screamed out the need to protect everyone. The responsibility of making sure no mistakes happened again. The guilt over her own inattentiveness, and how others had been hurt as a result.

Keith knew those feelings in his bones.

Guilt and pressure and the overwhelming burden of not allowing even the smallest slip up were old friends of his.

 

Except now, watching Keira – understanding her feelings at his very core – he also couldn’t shake the knowledge and utter certainty that she was wrongfully blaming herself.

 

They had been ambushed.

No one had seen it coming.

And Keira, had no more chance of somehow miraculously having some precognition of the attack than she did of single handedly finding a way to send Keith and Lance back to their own reality.

 

It hadn’t been her fault.

Keith knew it hadn’t been her fault.

And yet she was blaming herself. She was taking responsibility for the potential of what could have been, and bearing it on her own shoulders.

 

Keith was so caught up in trying to sort out his internal revelation, he startled as Lance shoved his pack into Keith’s hands.

“Hey, hold this for a sec, will you?” was all Lance said, before he was trotting up the line, until he was walking shoulder to shoulder with Keira.

Keith watched as Lance bumped his shoulder into hers, leaning in and saying something in a voice too low to overhear. Keira started to respond with something, but Lance was already waving a finger in her face, shaking his head and speaking some more. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze before turning and trotting back to Keith.

He took his pack from Keith’s hands and slung it back over his shoulder, carrying on as if nothing had just happened.

 

“What was that all about?”

Lance cast a sideways glance over at Keith. “Oh, come on. You guys are exactly the same.”

When all Keith could muster was a look of confusion at that statement, Lance heaved a heavy sigh, adjusting the straps of his pack over his shoulders. “You think you hide it well, but if someone knows what to look for, it’s really obvious when you’re stressed or upset, okay?” He jabbed an elbow against Keith’s ribs. “It took me two seconds to realize that of course she would be blaming herself for the ambush yesterday because that’s what you would be doing in her situation, dude.” The pack jostled again as Lance shrugged. “Sometimes it just helps to hear that it wasn’t anyone’s fault, I think. Or at least, that’s what I hope.”

 

It was the smallest thing, but Lance’s words impacted with such force, Keith almost stumbled over his own feet.

Because how many times had they been returning from a battle or a mission, and Lance had come up next to him with a clap on the back or a squeeze of his shoulder? How many times had Lance mentioned something off-hand that had made the guilt churning in Keith’s gut lessen just enough for him to not sink into a mental spiral of everything that could have gone wrong?

 

“Hey, man, that was rough but now we’ll know better for next time, right?”

“Keith, buddy…you did your best, okay? No one could have seen that coming.”

“We’re all good, you know. It’s war, after all. We’ll get through this.”

 

“I didn’t –“ Keith choked out. “I didn’t know you knew me that well.”

That seemed to sober Lance up a bit, however. His fingers wrapped around the straps of his pack as his feet scuffed at a protruding root. “I don’t always know,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know enough to know…how you felt about yourself.”

The sentiment made a scowl pull at the corners of Keith’s mouth. Reflexively, he reached out and wrapped a hand around the strap just below Lance’s own hand, giving the pack a soft yank – enough to draw Lance’s attention. “You don’t have to know everything. You’re not supposed to know everything. You don’t have to protect me and take care of me just because –“

“Tell that to yourself.”

 

There was something hard in Lance’s voice – an obstinate gleam in his eyes – and Keith had no comeback to give. Because hadn’t he just been thinking the same thing in regards to Keira?

 

Lance tapped his pinky finger on top of Keith’s fist. “Somebody has to protect you, Keith. Somebody has to know you that well to –“

“Please don’t.” Anxiety rose in Keith’s windpipe. “Don’t say that like it’s your duty. I don’t want that.”

“Somebody has to –“ Lance persisted. “Because you’re worth protecting. And you wanna now the stupidest thing, Keith? I want it to be me. I want to be the one who –“

 

“Sorry to interrupt.”

 

Keith released the strap on Lance’s pack, turning to see Adam hastening up beside them.

“We don’t have a lot to spare.” The man swung his own pack off one shoulder, reaching into it as he fell into step with the two of them. “But it is idiotic to handicap ourselves by not using every resource available, until we get back to Oriande. We don’t want a repeat of yesterday.”

 

Keith was hesitant to take the gun Adam held out to him.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle one, but he didn’t trust himself with a firearm as much as he did with a blade.

“We’re getting close to our destination.” Adam adjusted his glasses with a finger. “And hopefully you won’t even need to use these, but we agreed it would be better if you both were armed, just in case.” Adam’s arm shot out, grabbing Keith by the shoulder as he leaned in. “Hold on a sec…you both do know how to use a firearm, don’t you?”

Lance’s fingers had been deftly fiddling with the weapon as Adam spoke. “Oh, yeah, we’re good,” he said without looking up. “A bit different from our stuff back home, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

Keith pressed his lips together. “You don’t…have any knives, do you? I can use this if I have to, but –“

"Knives?" Adam wrinkled his nose. "We're not trying to get that up close and personal with the enemy."

“Hah!”

 Lance looked up from tucking the gun into his waistband at the small of his back to find both Keith and Adam staring at him expectantly. He hunched his shoulders up, waving a hand in Keith’s direction.

“Look, long range weapons are great, but I’ve seen Keith tear through a battlefield quicker than anyone with a  gun could ever do. You put a blade in his hand, and just like…set him loose and you’re all good to go.”

“Yeah, well –“ Keith ducked his head, feeling his ears growing hot. “Lance once saved me by shooting a knife out of the air after someone threw it at me. With a gun in his hands, you won’t even need me at all.”

“Well, well, well.” Adam’s dry tone drew their attention away from each other. “I see why I had to listen to Curtis complain about you two the other night.”

“What are you talking about?” Lance asked.

Adam only held up his hands in surrender. “No. I know better than to get involved.” He gave each of them a pointed look. “Just keep those close. As I said, let’s hope we don’t have to use them. But better safe than sorry.”

With that, he turned and strode away.

Keith’s gaze trailed after him, until he fell into step with Curtis. They were out of earshot, but Adam said something to Curtis who raised both hands toward the sky in a gesture that was clearly one of vindication.

Gingerly, Keith mimicked Lance – the gun’s metal handle cold against his skin.

 

“Sooooo.” Lance leaned into Keith’s field of vision as they continued onwards. “Shiro had a thing for him, right? In our reality, I mean.”

That made Keith chuckle. “Yeah. If being engaged can be called ‘having a thing.’”

“Oh shit. Really? Huh. Guess that means I owe Tyler ten bucks.” Lance sat in the memory for a second before asking, “So then…Shiro is…gay? Bi?”

“Gay.” This was one of those moments, Keith realized, where he could choose to let Lance in.  He could shove down the usual feelings of don’t bother him he won’t care, and he could choose instead to take a chance and see where something went.

“They actually…” Keith spoke carefully, “helped me. A lot.”

Don’t overthink it, Keith silently egged himself on. Just talk. Just trust him.

“I don’t know if you remember, but Adam once gave a whole speech about how the Garrison wouldn’t tolerate prejudice of any kind, and what he’d had to deal with growing up.” The expression on Lance’s face – the way he appeared intent on every word – made reassurance settle over Keith’s shoulders. “That was…kindof because Jeremy and Rafael and their group had just beat me up because they found out I was into boys.”

Lance’s hand was on Keith’s arm, fingers gripping tight. “Fuck, dude. I do remember that. I remember you coming to class all bruised and shit. I mean, it wasn’t like…the most unusual thing. You kindof did fight a lot. But I dunno…this felt worse. Like it stuck with me.” He pulled his hand back, heaving a dramatic sigh. “And to think, you couldn’t even be bothered to remember me at all!”

“That wasn’t my fault! Do you have any idea how much you changed in the year after I got kicked out?”

“Changed? I didn’t change!”

“Yeah, you did. You were –“ Keith couldn’t help himself. “Bigger. Cooler. Grizzled.”

“Oh, how dare you.” Lance gasped in fake outrage. “Besides,” he added, bumping his shoulder with Keith’s. “You were. You jumped down from that ship and were just like –“ Without breaking stride, Lance launched into several poses more appropriately found on the cover of a romance novel. “Ooooh look at me and my muscles and my flowing hair –“ His laughter was muffled as Keith shoved a hand in his face. “I definitely wasn’t any of those things.”

Keith rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Right. You were just. Taller. Leaner. With perfect skin and broader shoulders. How stupid of me.”

“Wait, back the absolute fuck up. What?”

“What?”

Lance waved both hands in front of his own face as if to erase the whiteboard of his mind. “Call me crazy, but it sounds like you might have found little old me to be just a teensy bit attractive back then, my man.”

Keith opened his mouth, but it took a second of stammering for him to form the cogent sentence of, “You know you’re attractive Lance. It’s not a big deal.”

“Dude, there’s a galaxy-sized difference between me thinking ‘you know I’m actually not that bad on a good day’ and hearing you actually say it. Out loud. To my face!”

Keith’s attempt to hide behind his bangs was a meager defense. “Ugh. Can you not? I already blurted out to Alvarez if he thought I was hot. I think I’ve had enough embarrassment until at least tomorrow.”

“Of course he finds you hot!” Lance immediately lowered his voice when Keith shot him a warning glare. “He’s literally dating you, dude.”

“That’s exactly what he said.”

“Duh. We’re the same person.”

 

The two of them seemed to realize the implication behind those words at precisely the same moment, if the wideness of Keith’s eyes and the sharp inhale of Lance’s breath was any indicator.  

 

“Because if you have to ask why there’s no difference for me, there’s a part of him you don’t know apparently,” Alvarez had said.

And that had been weighing on the back of Keith’s mind.

Because he wanted to know. He had to know.

Lance had kissed him, and –

 

“Lance, you called me objectively attractive before.” Keith’s heart was in his throat, but be pressed on. “And you –“ He thought he knew, but he had to be sure. “Lance –“ There was no other way to ask, and if he didn’t get it out, now, he would spend the rest of his life wondering. “You aren’t…straight, are you?”

Lance only had time to open his mouth before they both heard it.

 

Lance’s gun was in his hand, and Keith was signaling down the line behind them.

 

The group was immediately on full alert – everyone now acutely aware of the noises through the trees, distinctly moving toward their position. Noises that Keith couldn’t pinpoint, but didn’t sound exactly human to his ears. Or at the very least, did not sound the way he thought a group of soldiers would.

 

“We should hide. Get low, close to the ground. Quiet, and out of sight.”

Somehow the controlled cadence of Ina’s hushed voice from behind Keith made him even more nervous. There was no fear on her face, though, as he glanced back at her, but her brows were drawn inwards slightly as she cocked her head to better hear the sounds.

Kinkade was closest to Ina and had heard what she said as well. He turned, motioning to Rizavi, Curtis, and Adam to get down on the ground, as he did the same. Keith cast one look at Lance and then the two of them were hunching down, crouching with their backs pressed to the trunk of a nearby tree, hopefully hidden in the surrounding bushes.

Kinkade gave a short, bird-like whistle, motioning to the rest of the group, and within seconds, everyone was out of sight.

Lance’s shoulder was pressed against Keith’s, and he was thankful for the contact as the sounds drew closer, moving through the trees at a slow, inconsistent pace.

Trying not to make a sound, Keith shifted just enough so he could crane his neck and peak out from behind the bush obscuring them from view.

At first there was nothing.

Then something shifted from behind the trees.

 

He watched, eyes wide, as a small herd of creatures began to emerge from the forest, moving slowly and methodically in a line past their hiding place. They looked similar to moose – tall, with spindly legs and wide antlers – but also had long necks and wooly coats like alpacas.

As they moved past, one of the creatures raised its head and let out a low, guttural groaning sound that sent a shiver skittering up Keith’s spine.

He remained perfectly still, barely breathing, until the creatures had passed by their location, thankfully oblivious to the humans crouching nearby.

 

As soon as the creatures were out of sight and the sounds of their footsteps faded into the distance, Kinkade gave that same bird-like whistle, signaling the all clear.

Keith turned to look at the two crouching near them. “What were those?” Even though the creatures were gone, he still felt as though he should be whispering.

Ina’s head cocked to one side, her eyebrows pinching slightly inward. “They were dellon. Everybody knows.”

Kinkade put a hand on her shoulder. “Remember, they are from a different reality. Dellon may not exist in their world.”

“They looked like something we call moose,” Keith offered. “Do you not have those, here?”

Kinkade shook his head, while Ina muttered “That is a stupid word,” as she got to her feet.

Keith and Kinkade shared a look, and neither could help but smile as Ina continued to repeat the word “Moose” in varying cadences beneath her breath.

 

Turning back to clamor to his feet, Keith was met with Lance’s outstretched hand.

Lance’s eyes were warm and bright as he hauled Keith up – hanging onto his hand even after he normally would have let go.

“You were with the Blade.” Lance sounded slightly breathless. “When I came out to the team. I’d forgotten.” He jabbed his free thumb at his own chest. “I’m bisexual as hell, my man. It’s actually pretty obvious.”

“I didn’t want to –“ Keith cut himself off before he could utter the word hope. “Assume,” he finished, lamely.

“I would have thought the – you know – kiss would have been a dead giveaway – but this is you we’re talking about.”

“Things aren’t always black and white,” Keith grumbled.

“Nah, man. Sometimes they’re pink, purple, and blue!”

Keith drew in a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And sometimes I can’t stand you.”

He moved to walk away, but found himself being tugged back by the hand Lance still clasped around his own.

“I think the fact that you kissed me back would say otherwise.”

 

“All right, everyone, let’s keep moving!” Keira called out to the rest of them. “Matt, James, I need you to scout ahead so we can –“

Her voice faded out as Keith watched Lance’s expression waver. Something settled over his features that looked strangely like uncertainty as he hurriedly dropped Keith’s hand, shoving both of his into his pockets.

It was a gesture Keith had come to learn was one Lance often did when he was feeling insecure or in need of comfort or reassurance. It was a thing he had hated himself for ignoring, but hadn’t known what to do to make things better.

But now, as they fell back into step with one another, Keith leaned over, bumping his shoulder into Lance’s. He still wasn’t entirely sure how to erase that expression on Lance’s face and bring back his smile, but he knew he wanted to try.

 

“I’m sorry.”

The words were spoken so softly, Keith barely caught them. And they were so unexpected, all he could think was to blurt out “What for?”

Lance drew in a sharp breath, letting it out slowly as his shoulders hunched. “Look, I’ve been kindof…beating myself up about it all morning, so I’m just gonna…” the next breath he let out sounded more like a groan than a sigh. “I know that I probably shouldn’t have kissed you. I should have asked, at least. But, fuck, man – you were just so –“ He broke off, shaking his head, his lips pressed together. “I know that your emotions were high and I swear the last thing I was trying to do was – was take advantage of you when you were actually being vulnerable with me, but –“

“I was going to kiss you.”

Lance’s head swung sharply in Keith’s direction, his eyes wide and completely caught off-guard. “You – what?”

 

And Keith was afraid.

He could feel every thump of his heart. He could feel the sweat sliding down his spine, and the way his breath didn’t quite want to leave his lungs.

Because this was the truth he had shoved to the darkened parts of his mind with the rest of his dashed hopes and forgotten dreams. A kiss could technically have still been chalked up to high emotions and being caught up in the moment. But not this. Not the admission he had long since decided Lance would never hear.

Not the words that might send him down a path that shed light on all his hope and heartbreak and years of denial.

Keith ran a hand through his hair, trying to hide the slight tremor in his fingers. “I’m sorry, too.” He was so afraid…but Lance deserved to hear this. He deserved to know that it wasn’t a mistake in Keith’s mind. “But you…everything with you is so intense and real. And you were saying things that I…I couldn’t just ignore them anymore. I’ve held myself back so many times, but –“ He shook his head, wetting his lips as his mouth went dry. “Not after last night. Not while you were holding my face in your hands. Not after you invited me to meet your family.“ Keith’s voice was growing so thin, he had to stop, trying to mask his nerves with a shrug. “You were right there, and I was going to kiss you. But you beat me to it.”

“What do you mean you’ve held yourself back?” There was something so urgent in the tone of Lance’s voice, and it matched the way Lance’s hand shot out and gripped Keith’s wrist, fingers squeezing tight. “Keith – tell me that means what I think it means.”

Keith hunched his shoulders. “How am I supposed to know what you think?”

Lance scowled in response, tugging on Keith’s arm like he didn’t even have time to waste on a response to that. “Have you wanted to kiss me before?”

The fear was back, clawing at Keith’s throat. The fear that even now whispered He’s going to laugh at you. He’s going to reject you. You’re about to ruin everything.

Lance’s face hardened as the only response Keith could muster was to open his mouth and then snap it shut again. “Do you want to do it right now?” Lance pressed, “Because I do.”

“You…want to kiss me?”

“So fucking badly.”

“Really?” Keith had never hated himself more than in that moment. He had never hated how desperately, grossly hopeful and small his voice sounded.

You’re the leader of a goddamn legendary war machine, he chided himself. You’re better than this.

But Lance didn’t seem to even notice his moment of weakness. Or – even more strangely – if he did notice, he didn’t seem to care as he whispered back, equally earnest and quiet – “All the time.”

It was only then that Keith’s eyes caught the smallest tremor in Lance’s free hand as it came up to tug at the strap of his pack.

 

Lance, the sniper.

Lance, the sharpshooter.

Lance, who always kept a cool head in battle; who Keith could rely on to have his back and keep everything together during the most hectic and terrifying moments.

 

Lance’s hands were shaking.

Not because of battle. Not because of some life or death situation.

Because of this.

This conversation. This admission.

 

And maybe, Keith realized with stunning clarity, he wasn’t as alone in this as he had originally thought.

Maybe – just maybe – this meant as much to Lance as it did to him.

Maybe this was the real moment to throw himself in without fear of the consequences. Maybe he was meant to be reckless, because maybe this was a choice that warranted risking everything.

 

 

“You really are the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

 

The shudder that passed through Lance’s body was basically confirmation, as was the too-nervous laugh that left his mouth. “Can’t be brave if you’re not fucking terrified, I guess.”

“You don’t have to be.” Keith barely even recognized his own voice. “Not anymore. Not with me.”

Lance’s eyes were so bright and so blue. “Okay, but I could actually really use a straight answer, here, my man.”

“I’m sorry.” The moment was too perfect. And there were too many emotions bubbling up in Keith’s chest. “The only answer I can give you, here, is really, really fucking gay.”

Lance inhaled sharply through his nose, his lips pressed together.

 

Before he could respond, however, there was a commotion from the front of the line.

Both Keith and Lance turned to see what was happening, just in time to catch Keira motioning the rest of them forward.

Lance still had one hand wrapped around Keith’s wrist, and he didn’t let go as they moved to join the others.

Once they were all gathered, Keira addressed them in a low voice. “The good news is that we are closer to Oriande than we thought. The bad news is that there is a squadron of roughly twenty Galran soldiers camped out between us and the base.” She motioned with a nod of her head in the direction they had been going.

“How are they looking?” Kinkade spoke up.

“Ugly and mean and in our way,” Matt muttered, to which James rolled his eyes.

“They look like they are well rested,” he clarified. “They look like they’ve been camped out there for a while with provisions and nothing but time on their hands.”

Alvarez planted a hand on one hip. “Yeah, but we could use that to our advantage. I mean –“ he waved his other hand around the group. “Sure, we are all fucking exhausted and beat up and seriously in need of a shower holy fuck –“

“However –“ Keira prompted, flashing him a warning glare.

However,” Alvarez repeated with emphasis. “If they have been camped out there, resting and eating without any sign of trouble, maybe they won’t be prepared for us and we can take them by surprise. I would even go as far as to say they are waiting for an attack from O-Base. Not one from the other side.”

“Oooooh a sneak attack!” Matt perked up, giving Alvarez’s shoulder a light punch. “Stealth mode. I love it! Let’s go!”

“You don’t have a stealth mode,” Rizavi groused, to which Matt flipped her off with both hands.

“I’m so stealthy, you don’t even know when I’m being stealthy!”

“One actually helpful point,” Kinkade cut in before that could progress any further. “Is that Keira is actually very skilled in stealth. And Alvarez is the best sniper I know –“ he held up a hand when James opened his mouth. “And yes, I know I’m good, but we all know he’s the best.”

Keith bit the inside of his lip as he saw both Lances puff up with pride.

“Oh. I see. Very beneficial. Tactical.” Ina nodded, one finger tapping her chin.

“See what?” Matt asked. “We know they’re amazing. So what?”

 

Suddenly all eyes were on Keith and Lance.

 

“They are amazing,” Kinkade concluded. “And we have two of them.”

 

 

***

 

 

Moving stealthily through the underbelly of an alien space station, or the sleek corridor of a ship was one thing. Attempting the same maneuver – unseen, unheard, unnoticed – through a forest rife with dry leaves and protruding tree roots was another thing entirely, and the pressure was getting to Keith.

Kinkade had said that Keira was amazing at stealth, which meant he had to be, too.

They were relying on him to be the best.

They were relying on him to be the leader.

Once again, the lives of others were in his hands.

 

They had divided into two groups. Keira had taken Adam, Ina, Rizavi, and Matt around the right flank of the Galran camp, while Keith was to lead Curtis, James and Kinkade around the left. Lance and Alvarez were going to approach the camp from the center, positioning themselves within firing range, so as to protect the others from afar if need be.

The plan was to sneak in and incapacitate as many of the soldiers as possible, as quietly as possible, so their little group did not get overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

 

The closer Keith moved toward the camp, the more his heart began to pound. He tried to focus on the task at hand, but that only brought on the anxiety of proving himself and holding up the standards set by Keira.

He tried to think of the battle ahead – to kickstart his body and mind into paladin mode.

He pulled upon his previous experiences, trying to find something to latch onto that would help calm him so he would not slip up.

           

You can do this, he reminded himself. You’ve been in battles before. You’ve had far worse odds, and you’ve survived. Your team has survived. Don’t overthink it. Just yourself, and trust the people around you.

           

He let himself breathe deeply – let the clean forest air fill his lungs and relax his muscles.

           

The laughter and voices of the unsuspecting Galran soldiers could just be heard through the trees when Keith paused and turned back to his little team.

Keeping his voice low, he motioned them over. “James, Curtis, and I will sneak into the camp and take out as many soldiers as we can. Kinkade, I need you to keep your weapon ready and guard out backs in case any of them try to ambush us from behind.” He met each of their eyes individually, relieved to see they were all taking him seriously. “Remember, we want to make this as quiet as possible so only resort to guns if there no other option. When we get close enough, we’ll scope out the layout and choose out best approach, then wait for Ina’s signal. Any questions?”

When all Keith received was a shake of their heads, he drew in another steadying breath. “The odds of us making it through the whole camp without a fight are very low, so be prepared. And stay safe. Protect each other.” He gave them all another pointed look before motioning them to continue on, slow and soundless.

           

 

The closer they crept toward the camp, the louder the voices became – boisterous, lively, laughing voices – and it only confirmed Alvarez’s suspicion that the soldiers were not prepared for an attack.

It only served to further spark confidence in Keith’s chest – his previous anxiety slowly draining away to make room for the anticipation setting in.

Most of the noise from the camp was coming from the center, which was where Keith assumed most of the soldiers were congregated – eating, drinking, hanging out.

But from their vantage point, he could see several stragglers around the edges of the camp, and these were the ones they would target first.

Without making any large or sudden movements that could potentially draw the attention of the Galra, Keith gestured to James and Curtis, pointing out who they would be targeting first. James raised an eyebrow at him, making a curving motion of his hand – asking if he should loop around the side of his target’s tent – and Keith gave him a thumbs up.

Kinkade’s hand landed firmly on Keith’s shoulder, letting him know he was prepared.

The four of them waited, poised in readiness as they listened for the whistle from Ina on the opposite side of the camp. Several seconds ticked by as Keith tried to drown out the sounds of the soldiers and natural whistles and chirps of the birds high above them in the trees.

Then he felt a tap on his shoulder from Kinkade, indicating he had heard the signal – and it was time to move.

Keith’s senses were on full alert, now, adrenaline fueling his limbs as he crept toward the soldier who sat on a crate with his back toward the forest as he scraped the mud off the sole of his boot.

He didn’t even see it coming before the sharp strike Keith delivered to his carotid sent him crumpling to the ground. Keith took one moment to scan the area of a blade of any kind, but moved on quickly as none appeared readily available.

He stepped carefully around the tents, scanning the area for his next target and the path that would lead him to it without detection.

As he snuck past the opening of a tent, two things happened simultaneously. A soldier stepped out, blinking and stretching in the daylight, and a small, startled grunt sounded from somewhere off to Keith’s right. The sound was enough to catch the soldier’s attention and then he was staring with wide eyes and an open mouth directly at Keith.

Keith darted forward, his instincts kicking in. The soldier’s arms were still slightly raised from the stretch, and Keith drive his knuckles directly into the man’s armpit – leaping forward to clamp a hand over his mouth to muffle the cry of pain he let out. He used his momentum to pull the soldier back into the tent, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and squeezing until he felt his body go limp.

Eyes sweeping the small, dimly lit tent and coming up empty once again, Keith wondered in annoyance if these Galra owned blades of any kind whatsoever. This would all go so much quicker if he got his hands on a sword or knife.

           

As Keith stepped out of the tent, however, the low rumble of conversational sounds from the center of camp turned sharp and loud – and then the areas was filled with shouts and the distinct clatter of weapons.

A shot rang out, cutting through the air – sending a cloud of birds screeching up into the sky from a nearly tree – and Keith was moving.

Stealth has lasted as long as if was able to, and now it was time to dive in and do what he truly did best. Fight.

           

A shot whizzed past Keith’s head as he dodged – dropping and rolling behind the cover of a nearby crate. He crouched low, reaching for the handle of the gun he’d stuck in his waistband earlier, and –

 

And it wasn’t there.

 

Keith felt the shock of a bullet cracking against the side of the crate he crouched behind. He tried to make himself as small as possible as his eyes swept the area, hoping maybe his gun had just slipped out and dropped to the ground somewhere within his reach.

But it must have happened back in the tent, or possibly while he was running toward the action. Either way, he was pinned down behind meager cover with no weapon and no immediate escape.

 

He could hear the yells of familiar voices, and the crack of gunshots so he knew the Galran soldiers’ attention was not focused solely on him – but even with his speed and agility, the chance of escaping to better cover without harm was extremely slim.

A shadow fell across Keith’s face and his adrenaline kicked into overdrive. He swung around, attempting to sweep the legs out from under the soldier while simultaneously avoiding the shot he knew was coming.

The soldier’s eyes were cold and dark and full of hatred as Keith caught a glimpse of them past the barrel of the gun – and then blood was spraying across his face.

The soldier topped forward, and Keith had enough presence of mind to stick one foot up and kick him away before the Galran’s dead weight pinned him to the ground.

 

“Keith! Catch!”

 

The reaction was pure instinct – born from years of hearing that same voice call out to him amidst the chaos of a battlefield. Keith’s hand shot out, reaching for the object he vaguely saw flying in his direction.

The moment his fingers wrapped around the rough hilt of the machete, everything changed. Keith took half a second to admire the sturdy blade in his hand, before the adrenaline and fire inside his chest roared to life, driving him to his feet.

 

 

After one particularly intense mission where the paladins had to go in on foot to rescue a group of their allies who were under siege from a group of Galra pirates, Hunk had informed Keith he had “rushed in there like a bat out of hell.”

Keith had never heard that phrase, nor did he know why bats would have been condemned to a life of eternal damnation in the first place, but ever since, it was something that popped into his mind each time he kicked into full gear during a battle.

 

He felt it now – the adrenaline surging through his body, propelling the muscles of his legs to move faster, push harder. He felt it in each brutal swing of the machete; each time it connected with armor or flesh. He felt it high in his chest – the inferno of energy and power blazing behind his ribcage, compelling him to keep going no matter what.

This was where Keith excelled. This was where he was at his best – nothing held back, nothing in his way.

Fighting. Protecting. Doing something. Driven on by the strength and rage and ferocity that lay below the surface of his every day life.

 

 

He caught a flash of blue eyes and brown hair in the fray, and without thinking, hurled his blade with deadly accuracy at the soldier trying to sneak up behind Lance. The machete embedded itself in the startled soldier’s chest, and then he was falling backwards as Keith sprinted across the distance between them.

He put one foot on the fallen soldier, and yanked the blade free, kicking the man away with a grunt. He spun, and then he was back to back with Lance.

 

Everything settled into place.

 

The yells and screams and clamor of combat faded out, leaving Keith with only the warmth and familiarity and comfort of Lance at his back, and the way they two of them moved together.

They separated and converged, lunged and dodged. They communicated without words, protecting each other at whatever cost.

 

It was like a dance only the two of them knew. Something all their own. Something no one else could every quite understand.

And it was the place Keith felt most at home.

 

 

As the last of the soldiers fell and the forest returned to its natural state of quiet and tranquil, Keith took a moment to simply lean back against Lance as he tried to catch his breath.

He felt the chuckle Lance let out; felt his heaving breaths as he pressed back against Keith – and the urge to turn around and wrap him up in an embrace was too difficult to ignore.

 

Except it wasn’t Lance, as Keith turned to face him.

 

Alvarez threw his head back and began to laugh, loud and unhinged.

“It’s not the same,” Alvarez mimicked Keith’s words from before, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oooooh, look at me and Keira, we’re so different because we have different junk. It’s not like we fight exactly the same way and work together really well with whatever Lance is handy.” He slung an arm around Keith’s shoulders, squeezing him tight against his bloody vest. “Here you go, you adorable little shit.”

Keith was too stunned to even struggle as Alvarez leaned forward, planting a firm kiss on his cheek before pulling back and giving him a wink and a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for having my back out there.”

“Hey guys!” They turned in unison to see Keira wrapping her arms around Lance. “I’m keeping this one. Look at him, he’s all flustered, even though he was a total badass and saved me out there multiple times!”

Alvarez started off across the camp toward them, huffing and waving his hands. “Excuse me, I am also a badass! You can’t just trade in your Lance for a younger, newer model!”

“Sorry, love. You’ve been replaced.”

“Bullshit! You just called me love!”

 

Keith lost track of their conversation as his eyes locked with Lance’s.

For what felt like a lifetime, neither of them moved, simply staring dumbly at the other as the realization sunk in of what had just happened.

Then Keith’s feet were moving.

Lance met him halfway. He was grinning like a maniac, his eyes wild and fierce as they always were after a good fight.

Keith’s fingers grazed briefly along the shallow cut that ran the length of Lance’s cheekbone before he was pressing forward, falling into Lance’s arms and squeezing like he never wanted to let go.

Lance buried his face in Keith’s neck. “Please tell me this isn’t your blood.”

“I don’t think so.” It came out on a huff of relief – of having Lance here with him. Of being able to hold him after a fight the way Keith had always needed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Lance breathed. “Yeah, I’m good.”

They stayed there for a moment longer, before Lance gave Keith one final squeeze and withdrew his arms.

“I really thought I was with you back there,” he admitted, his eyes twinkling. “I guess we really do make a good team, no matter how you mix and match.”

Keith drew in a long breath – calling upon the remnant of his fading courage and adrenaline – and squared his shoulders. “The first time you said that to me,” he began. “The bonding moment – the reason I made such a big deal out of it? To answer your question from before, that was the first time I wanted to kiss you and held myself back.”

Lance made a strangled sound at the back of his throat. “Keith, that was…years ago.”

The utter disbelief in Lance’s voice as almost laughable. “Yeah, well…however long it was for you, it was still two years longer for me.”

“Well, I don’t blame you. I am a complete and utter catch. It’s no wonder you’ve been head over heels for me since we were teenagers.” Lance caught himself mid-preen, immediately wrapping both arms around his head as if he was trying to hide. “Fuck, pretend I didn’t say that. This is a lot and my brain doesn’t know how to process this information. Don’t even look at me.”

“Hey! I’m the one who had to admit it!” Keith countered, biting back a grin. “Why are you acting embarrassed? I thought you literally had no shame?”

“I don’t! Wait, what? I don’t know, Keith. Shut up! Leave me alone!”

 

“What’s with him?”

They had both been so caught up, neither had heard Matt come up beside them. He jerked a thumb in Lance’s direction. “Is he injured, or –“ Then he took a look at Keith’s face. “Oh man…you are super red, bro. Shit. What did I just walk into? No, don’t answer that.” He made a horrified face, slowly backing away the way he’d come. “Just…come on, we’re almost at the base, and we wanna get there before something else happens.”

 

 

 

***

 

 

Oriande lay in a valley surrounded by cliffs.

It appeared to be an old facility of some kind. A warehouse, perhaps, or a repurposed medical building. The walls were overgrown with ivy and moss, which served to held disguise it from prying eyes.

As the group crested the cliff overlooking the base, Rizavi let out a cheer. Their pace quickened, their shoulders relaxed, the mood lightened.

They were home, and they were safe, at long last.

 

Keith took a moment at the cliff’s edge, as the others began to hurriedly descend the winding path that cut along the cliffside. He breathed deeply, letting the cool evening air fill his lungs one last time. He let the sun soak into his grimy, blood-speckled skin, and he shut his eyes – allowing himself to simply exist in this moment before descending the cliff and having to deal with what came next.

Lance’s fingers slipped in between Keith’s own, and he instinctually gave a responding squeeze.

He looked over at Lance, allowing his eyes to catch and linger on the other’s face – on the way the sun’s dying light brightened his face, reflecting back the hope and relief, and that raw look of affection that made Keith’s chest ache.

 

“Welcome to O-Base,” Matt interrupted again, clapping Lance on the shoulder as he strode past them toward the path. “I’m gonna go find my sis.”

 

Lance ignored Matt’s intrusion. His eyes never left Keith’s as his smile turned resolute and encouraging. And Keith knew exactly what he was trying to say.

 

We’ve got this. We are going to make it back home.

 

 

END OF CHAPTER EIGHT

Chapter 9: TALK

Summary:

Lance and Keith meet some (old) people, and do some things together.

Notes:

WARNING!
THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT WHICH INCLUDES TWO NSFW ILLUSTRATIONS!

NOTE:
I know some of the images may not be working. I'm trying to fix it, but there's only so much I can do.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

 

CHAPTER NINE - TALK


Lance POV

 

 

 

 


It was the look in Keith’s eyes.

It was the way he had held Lance’s gaze after that terrifyingly impulsive kiss – clinging to the remnants of the moment with the same breathless need Lance had felt inside his own chest.

 

If Keith had shied away; if he had tried to brush the moment off or pretend it never happened, Lance would have carried around the guilt of letting himself give into such a reckless urge for the rest of his life.

But Keith had drawn him in with the trust and vulnerability in his eyes. He hadn’t stopped Lance as he gave in and allowed his heart to drag him forward into the kiss. And afterwards, Keith had held on, giving Lance the courage to stand by his actions.

Giving him the courage to talk about it afterwards – and the way Keith had responded turned Lance’s courage into a promising kind of hope. A hope that was on its way toward becoming something real.

 

 

“I was going to kiss you.”

“I’ve held myself back so many times, but –“

“You really are the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

 

Arms wrapping around him.

A face buried in his neck.

Fingers warm and strong between his own.

 

Lance knew something had changed for them, down by the waterfall.

At first, it had felt like comfort. Ease and familiarity and peace in Keith’s presence.

But the more the feeling made a home in Lance’s chest, the more he came to realize how much bigger it was than his initial thought.

For the first time in too long to remember, he felt whole. He felt solid and grounded. He felt like he wasn’t reaching for some far off and unnamable concept that was supposed to make him feel like a human being again.

 

He had taken a huge risk, and it had been okay.

He had put himself out there, and he had been enough.

 

Keith’s presence at his side made Lance feel safe and secure, even as they approached the unknown of whatever lay inside the grey, moss-covered walls of Oriande.

Keith’s eyes, dark and intense, tethered him to the earth, and made him feel untouchable.

And Lance realized that despite the uncertainty of their circumstances and their futures, what he felt, here and now, was happiness.

           

***

 

Two armed soldiers guarded the entrance to Oriande, and as soon as they caught sight of the group approaching, they raised their weapons – calling out for them to halt; to identify themselves.

It took a few minutes of shouted discourse and de-escalation before the soldiers agreed to allow Keira to approach.

Lance couldn’t hear what they were saying, but his eyesight was better than most, so even from this distance, he was able to catch how the soldiers relaxed once they got a better look at Keira and her dog tags.

 

After a moment of discussion, the rest of the squad was waved forward.

As they approached, Lance pulled Keith to the middle of the pack as subtly as he could, in the hope that the soldiers would not be able to get a good look at them. Obviously known members of their rebellion returning from behind enemy lines would be no issue, but Lance guessed Keira probably hadn’t broached the subject of the two alternate reality anomalies yet.

Despite his efforts of trying to pass unnoticed, the minute he heard the telltale sound of a gun cocking from behind, he went immediately compliant – pulling Keith down to the ground with him, and raising his hands above his head.

If this had been an actual infiltration mission, Lance would have let Keith take control, knowing his battle reflexes would kick in and save them from capture. But here, when all they wanted was to be able to get into the base as allies, quick and calm obedience was key.

Fortunately, Alvarez was of the same mindset, and also the same realization, as he positioned himself in front of Keira who was very obviously getting ready to argue. He explained that Lance and Keith were very assuredly not Galra spies, but he understood how it was an unexpected situation and would require a lengthier discussion with the officers in charge of this base.

 

Lance and Keith were restrained with zip ties around their wrists, and the whole squad was ushered through the heavy doors, as one of the soldiers radioed for a team to meet them at the west entrance.

The backup team arrived shortly, and Alvarez caught Lance’s eye with a look that said We’ll figure this out, just hang tight, before the rest of the squad was lead off down the corridor to the left, while Keith and Lance were maneuvered off in the opposite direction.

Based on the little Lance remembered of how Allura had described Oriande, he had been expecting this base to be a bit…brighter. Oriande in their reality was some ethereal place with pastel colors, imposing statues, and grand structures reaching toward the heavens.

Here, the ceilings were low and the walls were grey concrete. The air smelled dank and stale, and their footsteps echoed with a hollow kind of confinement, while the overhead lights flickered with all the welcoming appeal of an underground parking structure.

During their hurried pace down the corridor, Lance was only able to catch Keith’s eye one time. That second of contact made him send up a tiny prayer that wherever they were being taken, they would not be separated.

Because he knew that look.

That was the look Keith wore into battle. It was the look he wore during meetings when someone on the Atlas crew thought to question or belittle anyone on his team.

It was the look that stated if they were separated, Keith would fight – and that wouldn’t do when the thing they needed right now was to come off as unproblematic as possible.

 

Fortunately for everyone, they were spared that potential outcome by a small figure barreling around a corner and almost crashing into the soldier at the front of their group.

Pidge caught herself, straightening her wrinkled lab coat and swiping a stray strand of hair out of her face before raising an accusatory finger directly at Keith.

Katie, Lance corrected himself, taking in her messy ponytail, and slightly older appearance.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve, disappearing for weeks and making me think you might be –“ That was as far as she got before the anger morphed into wide eyed fascination as the realization settled in that she was not, in fact, addressing Keira.

Katie’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses, flicking between Keith and Lance with a look that was equal parts confusion and manic curiosity. “Well, either you were gone for much, much longer than I realized and something weird happened, or I am way more sleep deprived than I thought and have started hallucinating. The latter would not be ideal.”

“Dr. Holt –“ one of the soldiers began, but Katie held a hand up in front of his face.

“Can’t talk. Much too interested in the copies of my friends you’ve got with you.”

The soldiers exchanged a glance before one of them ventured, “They arrived with Lieutenant Kogane’s squad. We are taking them to a holding cell until Command can determine who they really are, and what to do with them.”

“You want answers, and you thought you’d lock them up instead of bringing them to my lab? You know, my lab – the place where I can personally get you those exact answers? The place where the smartest person on this base spends all of her time? Didn’t cross your mind?”

“We were just –“

“You were just not thinking. Which is why there’s a change of plans, and they’re coming to my lab.”

“We cannot leave you alone with them.”

“Then hang around. I don’t care.” She turned abruptly on her heels and started back down the corridor at a brisk pace. “Now come on! I’ve got so many tests to run and so little time in the day!”

 

The lab reminded Lance of a slightly larger and more tech-filled version of the Garrison’s chemistry lab. And, similar to the chemistry lab, this one also had chairs – which Lance made an immediate beeline toward, ignoring the surprised looks and murmurs of the two lab techs who had turned around when they entered.

Two of the soldiers remained by the door, their eyes tracking Keith as he came to stand beside Lance’s chair.

He didn’t say anything – he barely even looked at Lance – but the gesture itself conveyed enough. It said, We’re a team. It said, I want to be close to you. It said, Whatever happens, I’ve got your back.

 

“All right, losers.” Katie didn’t waste any time, grabbing a data pad and a tool that looked like some kind of handheld scanner, and coming to stand before them. “Who are you, and why do you look like my friends?”

Heaving a sigh, Lance raised his bound hands to hold up three fingers, putting one down with each sentence. “One, we’re not losers. Two, I’m Lance McClain and he’s Keith Kogane. Three – you really want us to just tell you the answer? You don’t want to even try to figure it out yourself?”

Katie huffed, adjusting her glasses and shooting Lance a look of contempt. “I am the smartest person on this goddamn base. And I am the head of research and development. So I’m going to be really pissed off if someone was working on a cloning project without telling me.”

“Why is it always clones?” Keith muttered under his breath.

“Not clones,” Lance raised an eyebrow. “Try again.”

Of course he could have easily told her, but this was the one opportunity where he knew something that Pidge did not – and he was sure as hell going to take advantage of it for as long as he could.

No matter how short that amount of time actually came out to, because –

Oh.” There was reverence in Katie’s voice, which was quickly overtaken by a fanatic kind of glee. “Alternate reality? Multiverse? Please tell me –“

“Alternate reality,” Keith confirmed, before hunching his shoulders and adding, “As far as we know.”

Katie whooped, startling the lab techs who had been watching from a distance. “Alternate reality, bitches!” she yelled, practically tossing her data pad in the air, before she got immediately down to business and started circling Keith and Lance like a curious vulture. “Tell me everything!”

“You tell us.” Lance said, ducking out of the way of her poking fingers. “You’re the smart one with all your – your tests and science and whatever. We just flew through a space thing and woke up here.”

 

***

 

Their blood was drawn, their cheeks were swabbed, their brains and bodies scanned, and as Katie was pulling out a few strands of Lance’s hair he placed a hand on his chest and exclaimed as theatrically as he could, “You’ve already taken so much – what more could you take from me?”

To which Katie gave him a withering look, placed the hairs safely in a vial, and then tapped a note on her data pad, reading it out as she did so: “Let the record show that as further evidence to the claimed statement, subject Lance McClain does in fact behave in a frighteningly similar way to Lance Alvarez.”

 

As their tests were processing, which involved a lot of computer screens and whirring machinery – all of which meant absolutely nothing to Lance – she sat them down and asked them to describe, in highly specific detail, the events that lead to them arriving in this reality.

 

Tests, it turned out, took a lot longer to run than in any crime show Lance had ever seen. And Katie – no matter how skilled – was only able to do so much with the equipment she had in her lab.

There were no clocks on the walls, but it felt to Lance that they had been there being poked and prodded; that they had told and re-told their story for at least 18 hours by the time one of the soldiers got a message on his radio and came over to intervene.

The soldier explained Command was preparing to meet with them, but they preferred not to meet while they were still in their dirty and blood-stained clothes. So a room had been prepared where they could wash and change.

Katie waved them off with barely a glance, her face buried in her data pad – and for a brief flicker of a moment, Lance felt like he was back on the Atlas being shooed out of Pidge’s space so they could work without distraction. The feeling was so intense, he found himself calling out with all the brotherly admonishment he could muster, “You better have gotten some sleep by the next time I see you!” before they were hustled out the door.

 

 

The room they were given was small, and had the same bare, grey, concrete walls as the rest of the facility. There was a cabinet on one wall, and a nightstand and bed on the other. A small bed, but a real one – with a real mattress and a blanket and pillows – and it took all of Lance’s willpower not to flop onto it and immediately fall asleep.

The shower, located in the room’s adjoining bathroom, was also small – with water that barely reached a temperature that could be classified as ‘warm’ – but after however many days of trudging through the humid jungle, actual running water, plus the unscented body wash and shampoo, were practically divine.

After Lance had stepped out in a surprisingly well-fitting change of clothes, it was Keith’s turn. And while Keith showered, Lance occupied himself by pacing around the room and trying to think of anything that could be used as a distraction from the fact that Keith was currently naked.

All his effort toward distraction went out the window, however, as Keith joined him several minutes later, because the shirt they had given him was just a little bit too small, hugging his body in a well defining way as he leaned up against the door-jamb, towel slung over his shoulders.

The absolute, sickening domesticity of the image drove Lance’s heart to once again dictate his actions.

“Oh, hang on – I think you’ve got something on your face.”

He could feel the way Keith’s eyes – wary, hopeful, trusting – tracked his movements as he approached.

Keith’s cheek was smooth as Lance brushed the pad of his thumb across the skin near the corner of his mouth.

The steamy air from the bathroom wafted out, adding to the suddenly heavy, intimate space between them. Keith’s voice was low as he whispered, “Did you get it?”

“No.” It felt like an out of body experience as Lance leaned in. “Let me try again.”

 

Keith’s lips were soft. His skin warm from the shower. The tilt of his head in response to Lance’s touch was gentle – tentative – words Lance would have never associated with Keith during their early years.

The pulse in Keith’s neck fluttered under Lance’s fingertips as he let them trace a line down from his jaw, sliding around to tangle in the damp hair at the nape of Keith’s neck.

He hadn’t meant to – he had meant to be gentle, too – but he felt Keith’s lips part against his and it caught him by surprise enough to make his fingers snag in Keith’s hair, giving one sharp tug, and –

 

And suddenly things weren’t so gentle anymore.

Keith’s tongue was in Lance’s mouth, and Lance was pressing him against the wall.

He had been patient. He had waited on this for so long, trying to figure out what he felt; trying to convince himself it was okay if nothing happened between them. Telling himself Keith could never feel the same way about him. Telling himself Keith was so much more than he would ever deserve.

But Lance was done waiting.

Lance’s patience had been fading ever since they woke up in the forest that first day. It had probably been fading since before then, if he was being truly honest with himself. And the last ounce of it had floated downstream, washed away by the current of the waterfall, replaced by the truth they had torn from one another.

 

He could taste mint from the toothpaste tabs as his tongue slid against Keith’s – and it could only mean that Keith had anticipated this as much as Lance had.

And now…

Keith was kissing him back. Keith’s fingers were digging into his sides like he needed him to be closer.

Like he needed Lance.

 

And Lance lost himself in the moment.

There was no war. No Voltron.

No soldiers right outside their door.

No meeting with Command that was probably going to interrupt them at any second.

 

There was only the feel of soft, damp hair between his fingers. Only the taste of mint on his tongue. Only the soft breath Keith let out against Lance’s lips.

Only this moment.

Only this kiss.

 

Only Keith.

 

 

“W-wait –“

 

Lance tore himself away, forcing his mind back to reality – taking in the dark eyes, the flushed cheeks, the way Keith’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath –

“I’m sorry –“ Lance began, but Keith was already shaking his head.

“That’s not –“ His voice was low and rough. “I’m…” He stared at Lance helplessly for a moment before dropping his face into one hand and slumping back against the wall. “I don’t know…how far you want this to go.” Keith mumbled through the shield of his palm. “We should probably…talk…before –“

 

And of course it was at that exact moment a knock came at their door.

 

“Goddamn it.” Lance hissed under his breath, only to receive a soft chuckle of agreement.

The reckless impulse was back, driving Lance’s actions as he grabbed Keith’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his face – planting a quick kiss on Keith’s lips when he looked up in surprise.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll talk about this later,” he said, rolling his eyes toward the doorway. “Right after we deal with whatever stupid bullshit is at the door.”

 

***

 

It was bullshit, in Lance’s humble opinion.

An interrogation masquerading as a meeting, where they were taken to another cold, grey room and sat before a council of five stern-faced people who introduced themselves by their rank and last name.

Two of them looked vaguely like high-ranking officers Lance had glimpsed around the Garrison, but he hadn’t known them well enough to say for sure.

He and Keith were seated on folding chairs in the center of the room and questioned about things they couldn’t answer well enough, according to the suspicious mutterings between members of Oriande Command.

 

Who are you?

Lance McClain and Keith Kogane, Sir.

 

Why are you here?

Random space anomaly, Sir.

 

What do you want from us?

Nothing nefarious, Sir.

 

Did the Galra have anything to do with your presence here?

Fuck if we know. Sir.

 

Fortunately, Keira, Alvarez, and James were there to field some of the questions and help fill in the details as they pertained to this reality. Additionally, the soldiers who had been chaperoning them since their arrival explained that Dr. Holt was in the middle of running various tests to confirm their identities and any other useful details, if possible.

After what felt like another 18 hours of question and after question, the man who had introduced himself as Colonel Sablan stood and declared that Lance and Keith were to be escorted back to their temporary room while Command deliberated on their situation.

Lance caught the way the Colonel’s eye twitched when Keira and Keith spoke up in perfect unison, asking with thinly veiled civility if they were considered prisoners.

Another officer, a Major Sharpe, explained in a kinder tone that they were not strictly confined to the room, however they would not be allowed to roam freely around the base, therefore soldiers would be stationed outside their room to escort them around if needed.

 

 

The day was definitely catching up to Lance by the time they made it back to the room. Keith had barely just pulled the door closed behind them before Lance was heading straight to the bed – kicking off his boots, and wanting nothing more than to just go to sleep and wake up tomorrow back in their own reality.

He hadn’t even realized his fingers had started massaging the tight muscles of his shoulders and neck, until Keith spoke up from across the small space.

“You okay?”

Lance gave a shrug, rolling his neck. “Just sore. Sleeping on the ground for so long and all. I didn’t really notice until we’re not, you know, doing that anymore.”

Keith hesitated, his eyes darting down Lance’s body before traveling back up. “You…want some help with that?”

“You wanna get your hands on me that badly, huh?”

Lance had been joking, of course, but Keith only raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking that like my answer isn’t yes.”

 

“Babe, you know when you flirt with me out of nowhere?” Alvarez had asked all those days ago.

“And you completely freeze up because you don’t know how to handle it? Yeah, I think I know.” Keira had replied.

 

During their time with Voltron, Keith had occasionally said or done things that had Lance questioning whether or not he had just been flirted with – always dismissing it afterwards because there was no way. It was always subtle – a lingering look, a smirk, a specific word or tone that stuck in Lance’s head afterwards, playing on a loop like an annoying song.

He could barely handle those instances, so it wasn’t really his fault, now, when he simply stared at Keith with an open mouth and no way to respond.

Keith’s lips quirked up in a stupid, smug smirk. “Do you want a massage or not?”

Lance let his eyes linger on that smile for a moment before giving a silent nod.

He held his breath as Keith slipped is own boots off, and settled in to kneel behind Lance on the bed. His entire body was tense, which was obviously counter productive for a massage – but at the same time, it was fully justified when his long-time crush was about to touch him with purpose.

“Is it your neck? Your shoulders?”

“B…both?” Fortunately, Keith decided to not address the way Lance’s voice cracked on that word.

 

The only way to cope with what was about to happen was for Lance to shut his eyes and put his mind to the task of reacting in a normal way when Keith started to touch him.

A gentle tug on his shirt broke his concentration.

“Can I, um…” It helped that there was a strain in Keith’s voice, and he had to clear his throat before continuing. It made Lance feel like maybe he wasn’t the only one overthinking this. “Can I take this off? It’ll be easier.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Because of course. No big deal. It’s not like he hadn’t been shirtless in front of Keith before.

It was no different, now.

 

Except it was different.

 

Because they had kissed. Because Lance wanted so much more than kissing, and they hadn’t had the chance to talk about anything yet, like they had planned. Because Keith, only several days before, had admitted he wasn’t super familiar with casual touching. Yet here he was, offering to give Lance a massage like it was a normal thing.

So it wasn’t Lance’s fault that he was potentially freaking out a little bit.

 

It didn’t help that he had maybe once or twice thought about Keith removing his shirt. And he had maybe on occasion thought about what it would feel like to have Keith’s hands on him outside of a sparring scenario.

It especially didn’t help that in all of those possibly imagined instances, Keith had never been this gentle, as he slid Lance’s shirt over his head and down his arms. His hands had never been this warm as they settled onto Lance’s bare shoulders.

How was it even fair that Keith could admit to not being the best at touching people, yet his fingers could begin to knead Lance’s stiff muscles with so much confidence?

 

Lance’s eyes fluttered shut as a tiny, pleased noise rose in his throat.

Behind him, Keith let out a breathy chuckle.

It was going to be fine. Lance breathed in, and let his muscles relax. What was he even worried about? “Just don’t give me a head massage unless you wanna hear me moan. Like, so much that people would definitely think we were having sex.”

Keith’s fingers stilled, and the panic was instantly back, sending Lance’s brain into a spiral of Why would you say that, you idiot? Why would you immediately bring up sex when you’re trying to be normal?!

A bucket of water doused his hysteric thoughts as Keith’s fingers crept up toward the nape of his neck, toying with the short hairs, there. “Duly noted,” was all Keith said, before gliding his hand back down to Lance’s shoulder blade.

 

They both went quiet for a few minutes as Keith’s fingers continued to work out the knots.

 

“Question,” Lance murmured into the safety of the darkness behind his eyelids.

“Hm?”

“Why are you so good at this, and why have we never done this before?”

“That’s two questions.”

Another pleased sound slipped out as Keith’s thumbs traced down the length of Lance’s spine. “You massage a lot of people to get this good? Did you have your own personal massage parlor at Blade headquarters, right next to the tattoo shop?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s how I got my food, you know.” There was a teasing note in Keith’s voice. “Traded massages for meals.”

“Mm sexy,” Lance mused, before mentally kicking himself again. “So, what are you expecting in return for this? I don’t have any food to give you, Red.”

Lance had warned him.

He has specifically explained what would happen, so he couldn’t be blamed for the literal whine that fell from his mouth as Keith’s fingers slid up into his hair.

He also couldn’t be blamed for the full body shiver that followed as Keith responded, low and soft, close to his ear. “This one’s on the house.”

All Lance could do was bite his lip and try to calm down.

But what even was calm when Keith shifted in closer? How was Lance expected to have the strength to keep his mind in check when Keith’s thumbs pressed into a spot on his back that dragged an unrestrained gasp from his lips? How was he expected to keep himself from giving in and letting Keith take full control – pulling him down onto the bed, and –

 

He had to stop.

He had to get control of his imagination.

Because if he wasn’t careful, those thoughts were about to manifest in a very visible, indisputable way.

 

 

Lance shifted on the bed, trying to keep his movements subtle enough so Keith wouldn’t take much note.

“I’m not hurting your scar, am I?”

Lance froze, his eyes snapping open and his shoulders tensing.

The warmth of Keith’s hands immediately vanished. “I’m sorry, I didn’t –“

“No, it’s fine. I…” He searched for the right words. “It doesn’t hurt. You’re all good, man. I just…I try not to think about the scar if I can help it. I mean –“ Anyone with half a brain would have heard the self-deprecating edge to his laugh. “You take off your shirt and you’ve got this badass tattoo. I take mine off, and it’s just…pity.”

Lance hated how aware he was of his own skin, now, as Keith’s hands returned to his shoulders.

“Both are scars, in a weird way. I just chose how mine looks.” Slowly, tenderly, Keith’s fingers began to trace around the edges of the pink burst of scar tissue at the top of Lance’s spine.

“I just…liked my back, you know?” It sounded stupid and shallow to admit. “It was, like, one of the few parts of me I was actually okay with, and now…” He gave a tiny shrug. “I try to forget it’s there, because if I think about it, I get super self-conscious.”

“I guess I never considered you’d feel badly about it.” One warm index finger drew a winding path down the right side of Lance’s ribcage, curving inwards before sliding up the length of his spine.

 

Whenever Lance had thought about someone else seeing his scar up close, the idea had been tarnished with expectations of repulsion. He had imagined people recoiling in disgust, or watching their faces morph into that expression of pity people used when they didn’t know what else to do.

 

Keith defied all of those expectations as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Lance’s shoulder.

“I always liked scars.” Keith’s breath fanned out across Lance’s flushed skin as he leaned back. “Especially ones like this that have a story attached to them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you got this by throwing yourself in front of Coran to save him from a bomb. And you barely knew him at the time.” The way Keith dragged both hands down until they rested against Lance’s waist made him want to lean back into the touch; to see if Keith would wrap his arms around Lance’s torso and pull him back into an embrace. “I guess I get why you wouldn’t like it, but…I don’t know, Lance. To me, it’s just proof of who you are. You get to look at it and know what you are capable of, and you get to remember that you survived.” Warm breath washed across the nape of Lance’s neck as Keith’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Bravest person I know.”

 

There was no chance of Lance being able to hide how turned on he was, now. The touches and whispers had all pushed him past the point of no return, and the things Keith was saying made him realize he didn’t want to hide it. He wanted Keith to know the effect he had on Lance’s mind and body.

Except –

 

“Keith –“ he choked out. “Uh…you remember what we were supposed to talk about before? Um…I’m sorry but – uh…I’m kindof…” Cheeks heating up, he made a vague gesture toward his lap.

It took Keith a second before – “Oh. Okay.” Lance could practically feel the grin in his voice as he asked, “Been a while? Must be if you got hard with just a shoulder massage.”

“Look, you can make fun of me all you want,” Lance groused, “or you could take it as a massive compliment of your massage skills.”

Or, his mind added, you could admit the way you were touching me was super fucking intimate, and I think you knew exactly what you were doing, you dick!

“I could make fun of you.” Keith’s hands had not moved from Lance’s waist. “Or I could help you.”

 

Red face be damned, Lance twisted around to give Keith a questioning look, because that couldn’t mean what he thought it meant. But Keith met his eyes without even a hint of teasing.

“Help?” Lance managed to whisper. “You mean –“

Keith gave half a shrug. “The way I see it, I inadvertently started this, so if you need me to, I can finish it. But only if you want. No pressure.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?”

It was the way Keith’s brows knitted together in genuine, adorable confusion that made Lance whisper, “Okay.”

Keith’s whole face softened in a smile that did stupid things to Lance’s already flustered heart. “Okay,” he confirmed. “Turn back around.”

If the choice had been up to Lance, he would have kept his eyes on Keith the whole time, just to make sure this was actually happening, and not some fantasy pulled from the corners of his overworked mind.

He obediently faced forward, however, anticipation buzzing through his chest as Keith shifted even closer, knees pressing against Lance’s hips. The anticipation grew into a whirlwind of exhilaration as Keith’s sturdy chest met with his bare back, and an arm snaked around his waist.

“If you want me to stop, just say so.” The words were a soft caress of breath against the curve of Lance’s neck, and all he could manage was a quick nod in response.

Keith’s fingertips moved with a meticulous delicacy, tracing the curves and dips of Lance’s muscles; skimming down the trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants as if mapping out the road to his destination. “Close your eyes,” he murmured. “And let me take care of you.”

Lance whined softly as Keith began to massage him through his pants.

“You deserve this.” This was a whole new side of Keith – this voice, these words, this closeness – and Lance didn’t know it was possible to crave something he’d never had before. “You deserve to feel good.”

You deserve to feel good, too.

You deserve everything.

Will you let me touch you, too?

Any potential response Lance could think of was diverted off the path from his brain to his mouth as Keith’s fingers fumbled with the button of his pants, pulling his zipper down with a deliberately unhurried pace that was both exciting and agonizing.

“Relax, Lance.” The words were accompanied by a tiny nip to Lance’s earlobe that made him inhale sharply. “I’ve got you.”

 

Those infuriatingly warm and gentle fingers brushed across Lance’s lower abs before dipping back down and disappearing beneath the waistband on his boxers, and Lance wasn’t sure if he had ever been this hard in his life.

He wasn’t sure if he had ever felt anything as good as the sensation of Keith’s fingers curling around his cock, pulling it free, and giving it one, slow, experimental stroke.

 

They had been creeping toward this line – the one that lay somewhere between private and familiar – for far longer than Lance had realized; that inevitable point where their paths collided. And now, standing on the other side of it, Lance wondered why it had taken them so long? Why had they danced around this, when it felt so comfortable; so right?

 

He relaxed against Keith’s chest as those fingers brushed lightly up the shaft, letting his head fall back against Keith’s shoulder.

Fuck –“ Lance groaned as the hand around his cock began moving with more surety and intent.

The low hum of encouragement from beside his ear was enough for Lance to tilt his head further, nose nudging along the jut of Keith’s jaw bone. “Keith, that feels good…”

Keith swore under his breath, and then Lance felt the sharp pressure of teeth sinking into the skin of his shoulder. The pain was subtle, but it was enough to make him turn his head fully, burying a moan into the side of Keith’s neck.

“Lance –“ His own name was a growl against his skin, and it only drove him further toward the edge – pressing his back harder against Keith, pushing his hips up into Keith’s hand.

He needed to feel Keith in as many ways as possible because the demand was back – the need to know this moment was real, and not some figment dredged up from Lance’s not-so-hidden desires.

Lance reached back, fingers splaying across Keith’s thighs – digging in – grounding himself.

“Fuck –“ There was a note of reverence in Keith’s voice. “I always thought you’d be responsive, but…fuck, Lance.”

There was no time to explain how this was normally just a show to make the other person feel better about themselves – not when Keith’s hand was building a steady pace, fingers squeezing every time they reached the base before sliding back down.

There was no time for thought as he gave himself over to the feeling; no time for logic as his lips found a home just below Keith’s jaw.

There was no time for anything as the tiny, shaky breath Keith let slip burned through Lance’s soul.

Of course it had been a while since Lance had gotten himself off, like Keith had joked about before all this.

There wasn’t much opportunity for alone time while fighting a war, or flying in a giant robot lion, or camping out in a tiny tent surrounded by alternate versions of the people he knew.

It had been even longer since Lance had messed around with another person, so it was no surprise that he was feeling extra sensitive right now.

Under other circumstances, he might have been embarrassed by how little it had taken for him to get turned on. He might have been ashamed by how strongly he was already reacting to the barest touch.

But this was Keith, and he never stood a chance.

This was Keith’s breath against his collarbone. Keith’s lips brushing his neck. Keith’s hand around his fucking cock, and he had wanted this for so long –

 

“Lance. Do you trust me?”

“Y-yes.” The word fell out on a breath, barely audible but utterly sincere.

He was still reeling from everything going on inside his body, so he almost fell backwards on the bed when the support of Keith’s chest vanished from behind him. The spike of fear that he had done something wrong only lasted until Lance’s eyes fluttered open and he caught sight of Keith lowering himself to kneel between his bent knees.

 

“If it’s too much, tell me now.” Keith’s hands were on Lance’s thighs, present but patient.

In the scope of Lance’s imagination, he could never have accounted for the way Keith was looking at him, now.

There was hunger in that gaze. There was something dark and delicious and mischievous, mixing together into a cauldron of emotion Lance would never be able to resist.

Keith’s eyes held danger in its purest form – the kind that could make Lance do stupid, reckless things with only a word.

 

And he wanted to.

He wanted to do everything with the man kneeling on the floor before him, now.

 

But more than anything, Lance wanted to be brave. He wanted to be the one who could look danger in the eye and make the right decision.

 

So he reach down, combing Keith’s hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear. His fingers followed the sharp line of Keith’s scar down his cheek, coming to rest on the underside of his chin. Lance tilted Keith’s face up to keep those eyes on him for as long as possible, needing the strength they provided. “Are you sure?” he whispered.

Because Keith also did stupid, reckless things, and Lance had to make sure this was not one of them.

Keith had the audacity to bite his lip. “Yeah. I am if you are.” He pushed himself up a little further, thumbs pressing in the crease of Lance’s hips. One hand remained there, settling on Lance’s hipbone while the other slid down to wrap around his cock, giving it a casual stroke. “Lie back and close your eyes. Just enjoy yourself and –“

“No, I want to see you.” Lance’s voice came out a little harsher than he thought he was capable of in that moment.

But he needed Keith to know.

He needed Keith to understand that he was wanted. That Lance wanted him as himself.

He didn’t know if Keith actually remembered the horrible suggestion James had offered the night they all got drunk in the forest, but he needed Keith to know that this thing between them was only special because it was Keith, and Lance would never pretend he was anyone else.

 

Something flashed across Keith’s face that Lance couldn’t read, but it was gone before he could question it. And then Keith was shifting forward, bending down, and Lance couldn’t think anymore.

Keith’s mouth was hot and wet around his cock.

Keith’s tongue traced a pattern along the underside as he dragged his lips toward the sensitive tip with excruciating slowness.

The breath Keith released as he pulled off made Lance’s thighs shake with the effort of holding still. Those lips closed around the tip – Keith’s tongue tracing every curve, every line, every shape until –

Lance had never sounded so needy – so desperate – as he moaned Keith’s name, pleading for more.

Keith’s responding hum reverberated through Lance’s every nerve, making him toss his head back as a groan slid up the back of his throat.

That was the only warning he got before Keith began to bob his head in earnest.

The pace was bad enough.

Every sloppy sound made it hard to breathe. The torturous suction every time Keith hollowed his cheeks and dragged his mouth downwards was almost unbearable. The agonizing heat as Keith dove back down set Lance ablaze.

The pressure of Keith’s hands holding him down – fingers digging into the flesh of his hips – made Lance want to sink into the mattress and live forever in this moment.

 

Of course he had gotten blowjobs before.

Objectively, he didn’t even know if he could say that Keith was technically the best he’d ever had.

 

But, as before, this was Keith.

And somehow, like it did with everything else, it just worked.

 

They worked together. They fit together.

Keith might not have been the best, but he was the only person Lance ever wanted ever again.

 

 

Keith dragged sounds from him he hadn’t even known he could make – ending on a small, broken cry as Keith pulled all the way off, his hand replacing the motion of his mouth.

Through half-lidded eyes and the haze of pleasure clouding his mind, Lance looked down – and swore his heart stopped beating for a second.

“Doing okay there, sweetheart?”

Keith’s voice was rough and teasing, and Lance was going to die.

Keith looked at Lance like he was the only thing he had ever needed in his life, and Lance was going to die.

 Keith’s wet lips pulled into a brilliant grin, his breathing heavy – and Lance was going to utterly perish.

He reached out one unsteady hand, not even knowing what he was trying to do.

And Keith…

 

Keith caught his hand and placed a tender, lingering kiss against Lance’s knuckles.

 

Then he was settling Lance’s hand on his own head, burying Lance’s fingers in that soft, dark hair. He was bending down again, and swallowing Lance’s cock –

And Lance thought he might cry because Keith had no right to be this gentle. He had no right to tear Lance apart like this, where he had no chance of ever piecing himself back together the same way again.

 

 

He lost himself after that – his mouth running away from him; babbling all kinds of nonsense that sounded most often like Keith’s name, mixed with pleas of more and fuck and don’t stop and you’re beautiful.

 

It felt like it took no time at all before the pressure was building; Lance’s breath coming harder and faster, both hands burying themselves in Keith’s hair for something – anything – to keep him from flying away and getting lost among the stars.

Because – fuck – he wanted to cum down Keith’s throat with an overwhelming need, but he knew with the last logical speck of his brain, that they still hadn’t talked – they hadn’t established any boundaries, and he was in no position right now to pause long enough to discuss what was acceptable and what was not.

And so, fingers tugging on messy hair – “K…Keith, fuck – y-you…” Speaking was almost impossible. “Red, I’mgonnacum, you have to –“

Lance’s words melted into a low, breathless whine as Keith did the exact opposite. His hands slid up to Lance’s waist, grabbing him – pinning him – swallowing around Lance’s cock… and that was it.

The cry that left Lance’s throat was muffled as he slammed a hand against his mouth. His hips shook, feet flexing and toes digging into the floor as he strained against Keith’s weight before collapsing onto the bed, boneless and light-headed.

Every muscle in his body had turned to liquid, and for a moment all he could do was lie there, panting against his own palm, shivering and whimpering as Keith slid his mouth off one final time.

 

 

The bed dipped under Keith’s weight as he leaned over Lance, hair disheveled and cheeks pink.

Lance was still trying to remember how to function as Keith grinned down at him, something so horribly playful and soul-crushingly fond in his eyes.

“Remember on our first day here, when you asked me if you were supposed to swallow?”

The laugh was ripped all the way up through Lance’s body, spilling from his lips and making his eyes water.

 

 

His body was weak, and his emotions were open and vulnerable, and he –

 

 

 

He loved Keith.

 

 

 

Fuck.

 

 

 

He loved Keith.

 

 

 

 

The revelation resounded through his mind with irrefutable clarity, picking up scattered memories along its path and piecing them together to form a single, solid truth.

 

Lance was deeply, stupidly in love with Keith, and he had been for far longer than this.

 

There was no way to deny it, now. Not after Keith had just given him literal mind-blowing head, but that soft kiss against his knuckles and the stupid question afterwards had been the things to make Lance break apart.

 

He was still dizzy from his realization as Keith slid off the bed, rising to his feet with an aborted groan after so long on the floor.

 

Wait –“ Lance pushed himself up onto still trembling elbows. “Do you want me to –“ He stumbled on the words – trying to hold back the one that wanted to escape the most – waving a hand vaguely in Keith’s direction.

Through the haze of his new-found self-awareness and the breathtaking orgasm, Lance saw Keith’s lips twist in a smile that looked both disbelieving and strangely affectionate. “Oh. Right. I forgot how nice you are.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Lance. Like I said, this one was on the house.”

He slipped away before Lance could respond, shutting himself in the bathroom.

 

 

By the time Lance realized Keith might be taking so long in there because he was getting himself off, it felt too late to go after him.

It was too late to address how much that bothered Lance.

It was too late to do anything but pretend he had fallen asleep when Keith finally slipped back into their shared space.

 

***

 

The next morning Lance woke with an uneasy feeling in his gut. A feeling that was quickly confirmed when he found the bed empty, and no sign of Keith in the room.

They had only been given the one change of clothes, so all he had to do was clean his teeth and splash some water on his face in a poor excuse of a morning routine.

His own reflection in the bathroom mirror made him pause. He had spent the last several days looking at his own face on another person, so for a moment he barely recognized himself.

Lance’s fingers traced across his jaw, expecting to see stubble there, as it was on Alvarez’s face. His thumb pressed against his eyebrow, tracing the path where Alvarez’s scar carved a clean line up toward his hair.

Lance looked at his own face, and felt like something was missing. He felt as though something was supposed to be there – some imperceptible weight of a memory, or some invisible trace of an experience he hadn’t had yet.

And then, with a sudden flash of horror, he remembered all the things his face must have done the previous night. Staring at his own eyes in the mirror, he tried not to think about the way his face must have looked to Keith. He tried not to think about all the sounds that had been pulled from his mouth and all the babbling words he had spewed.

It had all felt perfect in the moment. It had felt necessary, instinctual, complimentary – but seeing himself now with that something missing from his eyes, all he could imagine was that he must have done something that had been more than he should.

 

You scared him off, his insecurities whispered.

You were too much. It was all too fast for him.

 

You’ve always been too much.

 

 

But for the first time in his life, Lance couldn’t bring himself to fully believe this particular insecurity. There was something off about it – like something his mind was trying to convince himself of without all the facts to back it up.

Confusion mingled with his normal anxiety, changing it into something new. Something that remembered the looks Keith had given him; the words Keith had said. Something that tossed him a life jacket and said, You know Keith. He would never do anything with you that he didn’t want to do. He offered. He initiated. He looked at you like he was seeing something amazing.

The insecurity was still there, lurking over Lance’s shoulder. The unease still lingered in the pit of his stomach. But Lance remembered everything Keith had done in the past two days, and he was able to sling that life jacket around the hope that still clung to the surface of his heart.

He held that hope above the waves – the hope that he was just overthinking the shit out of this; that he hadn’t ruined everything before it could even really begin – and turned away from his confusing reflection to face the day.

 

 

There was one soldier positioned outside the door when Lance opened it and stepped out into the hallway.

“Hey, dude,” he greeted. “Did Keith – um, did you see where my friend went?”

The soldier gave him a lingering look, and Lance realized with a jolt of horror that this soldier had probably been standing guard all night, and may have, in fact, heard some things through the door. “Your friend left with Stephens about an hour ago to get breakfast. If you would also like to eat, I am to escort you to the mess hall.”

“Lead on, my dude. I could definitely eat. You got food other than protein bars, right?”

“We’ve got a few more things, yes.” The soldier waved Lance on, moving at a brisk pace.

They walked in silence for a minute or so before Lance tried, “So…are you friends with Alvarez? I know it’s weird, but I promise I’m not his evil twin or anything!” When the soldier made no response, Lance tried again. “Oh, come on. I’m just joking around!”

Jokes, it seemed, were off the table, as any further attempt to lighten the mood during their trip to the mess hall proved ineffectual. The soldier barely glanced at him, and only responded in short words and the occasional grunt.

 

Walking into the mess hall was like opening the windows to the first spring breeze after a harsh winter.

Not because the room, itself, was any more inviting than the rest of the facility.

Not because it was welcoming and bright and filled with the homey smell of freshly baked bread, or anything.

But because amidst the few scattered people eating and chatting around the edges of the room, Lance caught sight of a figure making his way around the tables, a broom in one hand, and a dustpan in the other.

Forgetting about his boring soldier escort, Lance hurried over toward Hunk, grinning like an idiot.

He flung his arms out to the sides as he approached with an enthusiastic “Hey, buddy!”

Hunk looked up, startled – confusion filling his eyes. “H-hey there…um buddy. Sergeant, sorry,” he said, holding up an apologetic hand. “Do you need me for something?”

“Oh.” Lance deflated, letting his arms drop. “Right. You’re not my… Sorry, man, I just got excited when I saw you.”

Like everyone else, Hunk looked slightly different than the version Lance knew. Older. Stubble on his chin. Hair shorter, and no headband tying it back. But his eyes were the same. His expression was the same, as his face slowly lit up with realization. “Wait! Are you one of those alternate reality dudes everyone has been talking about?”

“Yup. That’s me. Alternate reality dude, at your service.”

Whoa…” Hunk drew the word out, leaning the broom and dustpan against a nearby table and grabbing Lance by the arm. “You hungry? I bet you’re hungry. It’s basically my break time now, anyway, so we should totally hang out! I wanna hear all about your universe. I was beginning to think people were messing with me, but you look exactly like Sergeant Alvarez! This is insane, dude – tell me everything!”

 

The boring soldier hung back by the entrance, and after five minutes Lance forgot he was even there.

 

On move-in day at the Garrison, Lance had been riddled with nerves and stress and homesickness after his parents had dropped him off. He had dreamed about this for so long; he had worked his ass off to get into the program – and yet, as he made his way down the hallway toward his assigned dorm, dragging a heavy suitcase behind him, all he could think was I want to go home. I don’t want to be here.

Except when he had opened the door to his room, he had been greeted by a guy who wore an orange bandana and a brilliant grin. Hunk had greeted him with such enthusiasm, before Lance even realized what was happening, he was engulfed in a giant bear hug that had sent all his anxiety skittering away to the hide in the corner.

Everything only got better from that point on, as Lance discovered how fun it was to talk to Hunk. Hunk put him at ease. He made him feel comfortable, and it made little, 13-year-old Lance wonder why he had ever been nervous in the first place.

 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Hunk, in any universe, had the same effect on him.

 

***

 

Hunk’s break was sadly only 15 minutes long, and Lance was left to finish his breakfast alone. He had just gotten up to put his empty tray in the pile with the rest of the used dishes, when Alvarez and Matt burst into the mess hall in a flurry of loud noises and exaggerated gestures.

The other scattered diners exchanged judgmental glances, but apparently none of them were of any significance, because Alvarez and Matt were there for one purpose – made clear by how they barreled across the room as soon as they noticed Lance.

Having so many energetic siblings, Lance was no stranger to the concept of come with me, there’s no time to explain. So he simply accepted his fate as Alvarez grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him out of the mess hall.

Fortunately, unlike Rachel and Luis – not to name names or anything – Alvarez actually explained between breaths what was going on.

Apparently Keira and Keith had been convinced to spar against one another, and they were waiting in the training room where a crowd had already gathered to witness the event.

“Anyway,” Alvarez panted as they dodged around a group of soldiers. “I’ve been all over looking for you because if you’re anything like me, you wouldn’t want to miss that. And you’re everything like me, so –“

“Oh, there’s no fucking way I’d want to miss that!”

“Right? Think of the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen and then double it, holy fuck!”

Keith’s face flashed across Lance’s mind – hunger in his eyes, a smirk on his lips – and he sent out a preemptive apology to his family back in his universe, just in case he didn’t survive.

 

They burst through the training room doors, as a breathless Alvarez announced to the whole room very loudly and with much dramatic pride that the most important people had arrived and the match could now begin.

“I’m honestly tempted to tell you it’s over and you missed it,” Keira called out from the center of the room.

“Oh, you wouldn’t dare start without me, love!” Alvarez called back. “I know how much you secretly enjoy showing off for me.”

 

It was almost embarrassing how immediately Lance’s eyes found Keith at the word love. He wondered how many times he had done a similar thing, unconscious of his actions – compelled by his heart and all the confusing, exhilarating, yearning feelings that swirled around his memories of Keith.

As if sensing Lance’s gaze, Keith turned from his place beside Keira, and their eyes locked.

Without warning, Lance’s mind was pulled back to the previous night.

 

Keith’s hands tracing his scar –

Keith’s lips against his knuckles –

The stupid joke spoken past a messy smirk –

 

The realization was back, surging through Lance with such a palpable force that he felt like he had reached inside his own chest, pulled out his heart and now held it on display for everyone to see.

Love.

That word – that one, tiny, truthful, weighted word – crashed against his lingering insecurity, and for the first time since he had woken up, he was able to understand the reason behind the unease permeating his chest.

It was an old fear – so ingrained in Lance’s existence, he couldn’t clearly recall a time when it had not been there. It was the recurring nightmare that colored so many of his actions and decisions – the pattern of getting closer to Keith, and having Keith pull away.

 

He had woken up, and Keith was gone.

They had gotten closer than ever before, and Keith had left Lance alone to figure everything out – to overthink and obsess and question every good thing he had believed.

 

Yet something about Keith’s expression, now, kept the heat of Lance’s mounting chagrin on a tight leash.

There was something beyond the usual intensity in Keith’s eyes – a hesitation, a timidity, a fear – and it made Lance want to sweep his own issues off the table, making room for Keith to lay out his feelings so they could sort them out together.

 

They had long since mastered the art of communicating without words – an eyebrow raised during a meeting where the Garrison staff thought they knew better, plans formed amidst the chaos of battle with merely a look, the sheer energy of an elbow to the ribs that said I can’t look at you right now because we’re not supposed to laugh, this is serious.

He held Keith’s gaze, now – stubborn and resolute – trying to send his unspoken words across the space between them.

Because there was only one thing he could think that could potentially counter Keith’s flight response and give them both some peace of mind; the one thing he had always wanted to say.

 

I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You can trust me.

 

 

The moment was broken as Keira slung an arm around Keith’s shoulders, saying something to him that made a grin pull at his lips.

The two Koganes squared up as Alvarez tugged Lance to the side so they could watch.

 

Halfway through the match, Lance found himself hanging onto Alvarez’s hand, because it seemed they both needed something to hold onto.

He had seen Keith train, of course. He had seen Keith fight. He knew what Keith was capable of, but there was something different about this match.

 

Keith wasn’t fighting for his life, here. He wasn’t desperate, pushed to the edge. He wasn’t trying to prove himself, or protect anyone.

And it turned out that Keith, allowed to fight with nothing on the line, was free.

The pair dipped and weaved around one another in a pernicious tango – their movements so sure and solid and in sync, it looked like a choreographed dance they had practiced for weeks.

The training room echoed with the sound of their practice blades striking and locking and slicing away. The air was heavy with the awe of the crowd, and Lance was sure no one had ever witnessed something so beautiful.

It wasn’t just the sheer skill of the pair, it was that every so often, one of them would shout out a direction or an exclamation of praise to the other. It was the fact that as the match dragged on, they grew to wear identical grins – radiating light and elation.

There was no question that Keith was not made for small things.

He was born to fly and fight and write his name on the indelible expanse of time and space.

And Lance wanted to be there to watch it happen, even if he was never anything more than a shadow, trailing one step behind.

 

Keira lunged forward, snaking her blade around Keith’s just as he flicked his wrist out to the side. The collision sent both of their blades flying from their hands, skittering across the floor and landing out of reach.

Keira and Keith faced one another, chests heaving, grinning like idiots. Then Keith grabbed her and spun her around as their laughter mingled with the cheers and applause from the gathered crowd.

 

And Lance’s heart shone like a tiny star in his outstretched hands.

 

He hadn’t even remembered he still clasped Alvarez’s hand until he felt a tug on his arm.

“Hey. Make sure he knows, okay?” Alvarez whispered. “Don’t be a coward like me.”

The instinct was to deny it; to play innocent. It’s what Lance would have done back in his own reality. It’s what he would have done before all of this.

But he was done denying it to everyone, and especially to himself.

 He wanted Keith to know. He wanted to be able to say all the things he felt. He wanted the future he saw in Alvarez and Keira.

 

He watched as Alvarez shouldered his way through the crowd that had converged on the pair. He watched as Alvarez took Keira’s face in his hands and kissed her without any hesitation or insecurity. And Lance wanted that so badly his chest ached.

He wanted it all –

Until his eyes met Keith’s again.

 

The chatter of the crowd faded out. The chaos of the cheering, clamoring group of strangers blurred around the corners of Lance’s vision. The only thing he saw was Keith’s eyes, Keith’s face, Keith’s expression telling him without words that he needed space.

There was something sad, something lonely, something longing in Keith’s eyes. Something calling out to Lance while simultaneously keeping him at arm’s length. And Lance had never wanted to run over and wrap him in a hug more than in this moment, but he stayed, his feet rooted to the floor as people jostled around him.

“Okay.” There was no way Keith could have heard him through the noise, but he spoke anyway – watching as grateful understanding twisted Keith’s brows. “It’s okay.”

 

I’m still here.

 

 

“Hey.”

The quiet voice from behind his shoulder pulled Lance’s attention away. He let the dam of their connection break; let the crowd surge between them, filling the space like a river set free from its borders.

“Have you met Hunk yet?” Kinkade’s eyes were kind and his hand was comforting as it landed on Lance’s arm. “I think you’d like him.”

“He’s one of my best friends back home,” Lance choked out. “And yeah, we actually talked a bit this morning. Why?”

Kinkade nodded. “I was going to head down to the kitchens to spend some time with him.” His hand tightened with unspoken intent. “I think you should come.”

Lance studied the man’s face for a moment, before biting the inside of his lip and nodding. “Lead the way.” He wasn’t sure how Kinkade had picked up on the uncomfortable distance between him and Keith, and he didn’t know him well enough to ask about it.

But spending time hanging out in the kitchen as Kinkade lounged in the corner and Hunk prepared bread dough for the next day was exactly what his aching heart needed.

 

***

 

The blatant way Keith was avoiding Lance must have been obvious to anyone even remotely familiar with them.

Fortunately, Lance’s day was taken up by welcomed distractions.

When Hunk’s shift was over and it was time for him to head to bed so he could wake up at 3am the following morning, Matt pulled Lance away, with Kinkade and Lance’s soldier escort trailing quietly behind. He proceeded to lead them on an incomprehensible tour of the base, ending in Katie’s lab where – if the 8 empty coffee cups were any indication – she was still working from the previous day.

With Matt’s help, Lance was able to pull her away from her work long enough to grab some food and take her eyes off of a screen.

And for a time, he almost felt like he was home.

Almost.

 

These people were familiar, but they weren’t exactly copies of the friends he knew. The same soul with different memories; different experiences. The same reactions, but not the same jokes. The same expressions and mannerisms, but not the people Lance had grown up with. Not the same people he had been through his own war alongside.

They weren’t a team, here.

They knew of each other, yes, but they weren’t Voltron – tossed into space and shoved together by, as Keith had once called it, a messed up series of coincidences.

Here, Katie was Keira’s best friend, but to her, Alvarez was merely Keira’s partner whom she had little one on one interaction with.

Here, Katie and Hunk were barely acquaintances, due to their work schedules and different departments on the base.

Here, Hunk had lost both his parents in a Galra attack when he was 15. Afterwards, he had fallen hard, fighting to survive on his own – and had been taken in after a chance encounter with Takashi Shirogane, who had brought him back to the closest rebel base and given him a way to channel his anger. He had found a home among the rebels, and eventually he had also found himself – now channeling his emotions in a healthier way by making sure everyone on the base was fed and taken care of.

Here, the Holts still had both of their parents – at least as far as either of them knew. Sam and Colleen had elected to stay at the base closest to their home, while Katie had been recruited to Oriande, and Matt had volunteered to go with her.

Contact between the bases was reserved to specific channels available to only the highest-ranking officers in order to avoid any potential interception by the Galra. And despite her obvious skills, Katie had elected to work on her own system of un-hackable communication only in her free time – which had been basically nonexistent for the past three months. It pained her to not know how her parents were doing, but she understood the importance of her own work, as it pertained to the rebellion and victory.

 

As odd as it was to meet these variations of his friends – the ones matured and hardened by a different kind of war – Lance was grateful to be able to spend the day with them and pretend that things felt normal for a time.

The more he learned of them, however, the more something was nagging at the back of his mind, begging for his attention – but every time he tried to bring it into focus, it would disappear in a wisp of smoke.

 

Throughout the day, Keith kept deliberately out of sight, except for one instance during Matt’s chaotic tour where Lance caught a glimpse of Keira, Keith, and Alvarez speaking to Colonel Sablan in what appeared to be a very serious conversation.

He pretended it didn’t hurt. He pretended he didn’t miss Keith with a deep ache in his chest. He pretended everything was going to be fine, and Keith was just busy – not actively avoiding Lance.

 

He pretended to be asleep, curled up and facing the wall, as Keith slipped into their room that night.

He pretended he was oblivious to it all as Keith kicked off his boots and climbed into bed beside Lance.

He pretended – unbreathing – he couldn’t hear as Keith whispered his name, checking if he was awake. He pretended he didn’t want to cry as Keith paused, and then whispered “I’m sorry” into the shield of the darkness.

 

***

 

The next morning, however, Lance couldn’t pretend any longer.

He had barely gotten any sleep, so he was already awake and waiting until the moment he felt the mattress shift behind him as Keith slipped out of bed. When he joined Keith in the bathroom to brush his teeth, he made sure to make eye contact in the mirror to let Keith know he wasn’t getting away from this so easily.

The tense silence between them was smothering as Lance pulled on his boots – a weight pressing down on his shoulders, telling him that if he let Keith slip out the door without a word, he was going to regret it.

So as Keith pulled on his boots, Lance positioned himself between the bed and the door, folding his arms.

“I know you’re avoiding me, dude.” There was no point in skirting the topic. He wanted answers, and he was going to get them. They had both stated their intentions to talk, and yet they had spent the entirety of the previous day doing the exact opposite. “So just tell me what I did wrong.”

Keith’s hands stilled for a moment before he finished tying his laces. His shoulders slumped and his bangs obscured his eyes, but Lance knew he had heard.

“Just tell me.” Lance had been clinging desperately to the life jacket of hope against the flood of his unease, and he knew the more he pressed, the closer he was to potentially having his fears confirmed. But that didn’t matter. He needed to know. “I can’t fix anything if I don’t know what’s broken.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I did.” Keith didn’t raise his eyes from the floor. “I crossed a line, and I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t know how to…I couldn’t face you. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand.” Lance let his arms drop to his sides, taking a tiny, hesitant step forward. “I thought we both…” The way Keith refused to look at him pushed his head below the surface of the water before he fought his way back up again. “If you’re talking about us messing around, I…I wanted it to happen. I wanted it.” He pressed his lips together, trying to keep his emotions in check. “And you offered, so I thought you were okay with it, but if you weren’t… I just need you to tell me.”

“I did…want it. I did offer. But I shouldn’t have.” Keith ran a hand down his face. “We had…we had just kissed. We were supposed to talk about it.” Finally, he pushed himself to his feet and turned to face Lance. It was such a startling difference between the way he had looked during his match with Keira the previous day, Lance felt his breath stick in his throat. “You are not just some random hook-up, okay? I know you. We’re on a team together, and if anything goes wrong –“ It was so obvious there was more to what Keith was saying – something hidden behind the words he chose to speak – but despite how good Lance had gotten at reading Keith’s expressions, he couldn’t piece together why this was such a big deal to warrant this reaction. “I shouldn’t have rushed things. I should have waited until we talked.”

“If anything goes wrong,” Lance repeated. “Like you blatantly avoiding me for an entire day? Making me feel like I had done something that disgusted you so much, you couldn’t stand to be anywhere near me?”

He didn’t want to get angry, but it was unavoidable. Being ignored, being kept in the dark; having to fight between his feelings of love and rejection – it was all too much, and it was all bubbling up to the surface. “Sure. Yeah…maybe we should have waited. But we didn’t, and you can’t just run away from that, Keith. Because it’s not only about you. I’m very much involved in this.” He planted his hands on his hips, trying to make himself seem bigger than he felt. “And for the record, I don’t regret what happened. Or at least I didn’t. Not until you started avoiding me; until you started freaking out –”

“I’m not freaking out! I’m –“

“You are freaking out. And I don’t get why.” Lance took another step forward. “I thought we were good. I thought we were on the same page.”

“That’s the problem, though,” Keith snapped. “I don’t think we are. And I didn’t – I didn’t remember that when I offered. I was too caught up in my own…whatever. I didn’t remember that with all of this, you and I are in very different places.”

“Well sorry I’m always so far behind you. Sorry it’s always such a burden for you to wait for me to catch up.”

 

The words slipped out, fueled by the day spent fighting off his insecurities.

The short, shuddering breath Keith released, and the way his eyes widened as the full force of the words registered had the same effect as though Lance had just plunged a dagger into his chest.

 

“That’s not –“ There was an awful kind of devastation in the wobble of Keith’s voice. “That’s not what I meant at all.” He dropped his gaze, shoulders hunching as if the weight of Lance’s snide remark was dragging him toward the floor, before he whispered, “Is that how I make you feel?”

Lance knew he should have denied it. That’s what a decent person would have done.

But this was Keith, and their relationship had never been about telling soft lies for the sake of keeping the peace.

“I feel so many things when it comes to you,” Lance said instead. “And you know what? Sometimes I do look at you and believe I’ll never be good enough. I’ll never be anything other than a burden to you and everyone around me. But –“ he added, taking another step closer as he saw Keith’s hands ball into trembling fists at his sides. “You don’t make me feel that way. I make myself feel that way.”

“But I don’t help.” Keith’s voice was low and rough from behind the shield of his bangs. “I don’t ever help you to not feel that way. You help me so much, and I never –“ He broke off, shaking his head. “I get so caught up in my own bullshit, I forget to check in to see if there’s anything I can do for you. That’s pretty selfish, huh?”

“You’re not selfish.”

Lance hated the expression he was met with as Keith raised his head. He hated the dark circles beneath his eyes; he hated the resigned smile. “I am actually. I was the night we – I’m sorry. I want to be better. I know that’s not enough, but –”

“How the fuck were you selfish that night?”

“I gave you a blowjob.”

Lance stared. “Keith. Do you understand what ‘selfish’ means?”

That resigned smile twisted, growing to encompass the scope of whatever conclusion was growing in Keith’s mind. “I do. Because I’m about to be selfish again.” He moved toward Lance, shouldering past him. “I got them to agree to let me go on a scouting mission today. I told them it was so I could prove myself. My loyalty and trustworthiness or whatever. But I didn’t check with you. I was only thinking about myself, as usual.”

“Keith –“

But Keith was already reaching for the door.

 

“Red.”

 

That name made Keith falter, one hand resting on the doorknob.

 

“If you wanna go on some stupid scouting mission to run away from me, fine.” Lance lowered his voice. “But don’t you dare think just because I’m upset right now, that it means I don’t care about you.”

That made Keith turn, a frown creasing his brow. “I’m not running, I –“ he broke off, his gaze turning inwards for a moment as a frown pulled at his brows. “Look, we’re just…with this – with everything that happened – I’m…I’m scared, Lance.” His voice thinned – strained – stretching out to a shadow of its normal self. “I’m scared – and I know you don’t think this is a big deal, but it is to me and I need to figure out how to navigate this so I don’t do something stupid and ruin it, okay?”

For a moment neither of them moved. Lance barely dared to breathe because…Keith didn’t get scared.

Keith dove head first into battle. Keith sprang into action and fought to within an inch of his life. Keith thrived on action and he would never, never admit that he was afraid to anyone.

 

Except he had.

Right now.

To Lance.

And maybe – just maybe – that was because this small, uncertain thing between them was important enough to be frightening.

 

 

Keith rushed into danger because he didn’t care about himself. But with this, he wanted to take his time. He wanted to talk. He wanted to figure it out. Which meant – even though he hadn’t been able to say it outright – that he cared about whatever was happening between them.

 

It meant that he cared about Lance.

And that thought wasn’t just a life jacket. It was a whole boat that Lance could climb into and catch his breath.

 

 

The impulse was back, in a careful, tender way – moving Lance’s feet forward; closing the distance between them the way he had wanted to for far too long. He reached out, letting their fingers brush, and when Keith didn’t shy away, Lance slid their palms together, giving what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

“Last night,” Lance said quietly, “you asked if I trusted you. So…do you also trust me?”

“Of course I do.” The answer was quiet, but immediate.

“Then let’s talk when you get back.” Lance squared his shoulders. “Because I don’t want to ruin this, either.”

Keith was still facing away, his head bowed and one hand on the doorknob. A shaky breath made his shoulders tremble, and Lance dropped his forehead to rest against one, hoping he was providing some fragment of stability.

“Do you have any idea how badly I want to be on the same page with you?” The answer was implied in his tone. “When we arrived at this base I felt so whole, and now I feel empty again. Because you’re leaving and it all feels unresolved. All of those times you walked away, that’s the feeling you’ve left me with. All those times, I wanted to go after you, or try to stop you or – or just say something, but I never knew what to say. And I always felt like I was ruining things by not speaking up.”

“You always know what to say.”

Lance snorted. “Not with you. Not when it counts this much.”

 

For a moment, neither of them moved.

 

Then, slowly, Keith twisted until they were face to face. Lance had to loosen his grip on Keith’s hand, but he wasn’t willing to completely let go just yet.

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispered. “I don’t want to be like this. There’s just…a lot going on in my head and I need to sort it out on my own. I need to find the right thing to say, here.” His eyes held a vulnerability that begged Lance for patience and trust. “There are so many things I want to say to you, but I need to…to not be afraid when I say them. So can you just…give me some time to figure this out?”

The breath was sticking in Lance’s throat when he first tried to speak. He exhaled, shut his eyes, tried again – “Keith. I’ll be here. When you get back. When you’re ready to talk. I’ll be here. And then we can navigate this together, okay? Because I’m scared, too.”

Keith’s eyes searched his, dark and unreadable. Then, slowly, he leaned in.

His lips were so gentle as they pressed against Lance’s that for a moment Lance actually felt lightheaded – and they lingered there like a promise.

 

Then Keith was pulling away, turning back toward the door, and –

 

“Please be careful!” Lance blurted. “I know you’re this badass fighter and nothing can ever hurt you, but – please be careful on this mission. And then when you come back, maybe…maybe we can talk then? Is that enough time? Keith…I really want to talk about this, okay?”

Keith’s eyes held Lance’s for a long moment before he nodded. “Okay,” he agreed. “We can talk when I get back.”

 

 

 

 

End of Chapter Nine

Chapter 10: BLUE

Summary:

Keith learns some very important things about Lance. And himself.

Notes:

WARNING: Blood, implied violence.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TEN – BLUE

 

Keith POV

 

 

 

 

In Keith’s experience, it was always easier to anticipate the moment everything went wrong.

Or, more accurately, it was easier to be prepared for the inevitable outcome that he would eventually cause by his own actions.

It was easier to expect that good things wouldn’t last, because when they faded away, as they always did, he wouldn’t be blindsided.

           

But despite all those years of molding and honing that mindset to spare his feelings in the long run, he had not been prepared for just how quickly he had self-destructed with Lance.

 

He had been so caught up in the moment – dragged out to sea by the riptide that was Lance McClain – that he hadn’t thought about what exactly he was doing.

Not until he was facing his own reflection in the bathroom mirror afterwards.

Not until he was looking into his own eyes and realizing how badly he had rushed things.

Not until he was facing the reality that because he had thrown himself into this thing as recklessly as he did with everything else, he hadn’t given Lance the opportunity to catch up.

 

He had let his heart pull him forward; he had let his true feelings show on his face and guide his hands. And Lance…

 

Lance probably thought Keith was just horny – that the blowjob was just a fun little perk of this thing between them.

 

Lance was definitely not ready to hear the actual driving force behind Keith’s actions.

He was not ready to have Keith blurt out his love when this was all so shiny and new.

 

 

Keith recognized the irony of his thoughts: That he approached every new thing with the idea that it would one day end – and yet how desperately he wanted Lance to not view this as just some passing sexual fling.

Because if Lance only saw this as a temporary pitstop on his journey, it meant Keith would have to face a possibility he knew he would never be prepared for – having to watch Lance move on with someone else.

           

He had spent years building up a resistance in his mind; training it to accept the concept that he would never be with Lance the way he had wanted.

But he had never even considered trying to prepare for what he would do if he had the chance to be with Lance for a while, and then lost him.

           

Even the hint of that possibility made Keith want to run. But there was nowhere to run when he was an active participant in his own destruction.

As many times as he had wanted to throughout his life, Keith could never run far or fast enough to get away from himself.

           

 

***

 

 

 

“I know you Koganes aren’t the most talkative –“ Alvarez nudged Keith’s shoulder. “But I also know the difference between a comfortable silence, and whatever you’re doing inside your own head right now. What’s up?”

 

Oriande Command had only agreed to allow Keith to leave the facility and go on a scouting mission around the perimeter if either Alvarez or Keira accompanied him. Despite every fiber of his being loudly objecting to the idea of being babysat, the need to run from his glaring mistakes had been so overwhelming, he hadn’t protested.

 

Of the two options, Keith had been hoping for Keira. Despite their physical differences, he was past the point where he could ignore how similar they actually were, which meant she had likely made the same type of mistakes as he had. Or, at the very least, she would understand his internal struggle on a personal level.

That, coupled with the fact that Alvarez was a copy of Lance – the person Keith was unfortunately avoiding – made Keira the preferrable option.

Naturally, however, since Keith never seemed to have much luck to spare, Keira had been otherwise occupied during the time of the mission – and he had spent the trek around Oriande base thus far wrapped up in his own head, avoiding catching Alvarez’ eye.

           

But Lance – and therefore Alvarez – had always been more perceptive than anyone every gave him credit for.

Lance had always been the first to call Keith out on his bullshit.

Lance had always been the first to notice when something was wrong, or off; to notice Keith at all, and actually pay attention.

 

“I get so caught up in my own bullshit, I forget to check in to see if there’s anything I can do for you.” Keith had said to him before leaving on this mission.

But Lance never forgot to check in, and the closer they had gotten the more perceptive he seemed to be.

 

Before, Keith had found it easy to disappear into his own silence and detachment – but Lance had disrupted that. He had stormed into Keith’s life and left him nowhere to hide.

And Keith realized, now, with a twinge of embarrassment, that of course Alvarez would have picked up on his internal distress so easily, after being together with Keira for so long.

             

That thought drove him to finally look up and face his scouting companion.

It was still difficult to look at a face that was Lance’s and yet not Lance’s – to look into those blue eyes Keith adored and see so much of the man he loved, and yet so little of their connection and history.

 

Alvarez raised an expectant eyebrow, his expression open, but showing his full intension to not let this drop until Keith actually talked.

And maybe, Keith realized, he could use this situation to his advantage after all. Maybe he could use this to not get some insight into himself, as he had hoped to do with Keira, but to get some insight into Lance.

Perhaps this could be somewhat of a practice run without the risk of bearing his entire soul to the one person who could smother it.

 

 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, man.”

“You said you and Keira…um –” Keith fidgeted. “Messed around before you were a couple?”

Alvarez was obviously fighting back a smile. “Yup. We’d been messing around for a while before we actually admitted our feelings and made things official. Looking back on it, though, we’d basically been a couple the whole time because neither of us wanted to sleep with anyone else. At least that’s the way I –“ He stopped, squinting at Keith for a second before his eyes widened. “Oh. Oh. This isn’t polite conversation, is it?” The sheer intensity of the devilish delight in Alvarez’ eyes as he leaned in made Keith immediately regret pursuing this avenue of conversation. “You did something. Didn’t you?”

“Lance and I…kissed. A couple times.” Keith admitted, willing Alvarez not to comment on how obviously his face was heating up. “And I gavehimablowjoblastnight.”  That admission had Keith hunching his shoulders as he remembered just how much the soldiers standing guard outside their room that night must have heard. “And… I mean…he agreed to it. We both consented and all that, but I feel like I crossed a line. I feel like I moved too fast because I’m already –“ His eyes found Alvarez’s – and he had to immediately look away because they were Lance’s eyes. “All I can think about is how I rushed into everything, and now I don’t know how to do any of this. I’ve never hooked up with anyone I actually want to spend time with afterwards, you know?”

“Huh. Okay. Weird being on the other side of these insecurities.” Fortunately, Alvarez’s tone didn’t hold the judgement Keith had been fearing. “Let me get this straight, though. You’re worried you rushed things because…this isn’t just some sexual thing?”

“Yeah.”

“So you obviously have deeper feelings for him, yeah?”

Keith sighed. He knew he would have to look at Alvarez again, and he also knew how plainly the answer to that question would be written on his face.

The way Alvarez’ eyebrows rose as Keith met his gaze was a confirmation. “Strong feelings. Okay. So, let me ask you this. When was the last time your Lance flirted with anyone?”

“What?”

“Hear me out, okay?” Alvarez’s fingers tapped absentmindedly on the gun strapped to his thigh. “This might come as a giant shocker, but I used to flirt. All the time. With literally everyone.”

“You don’t say.”

The deadpan tone of Keith’s response drew a laugh from his companion. “Okay, I deserve that. But here’s the thing. Do you wanna know when I stopped flirting? The minute the thought entered my brain that I might actually have a real shot with Keira. – Get down!”

 

The shift in Alvarez’s tone from light, cheerful remembrance to do what I say right now was something Keith was already familiar with. Every battle he had fought alongside Lance had trained his mind and body to have an automatic response to such dramatic changes in tone.

So the words get down had Keith immediately dropping into a crouch, the machete strapped to his hip already in his hand as his eyes scanned the tree line.

 

The environment, here, was so different than what Keith was used to.

Back in the only place he had begrudgingly called home, he had been surrounded by the sweeping expanse of the desert – an emptiness broken only by the occasional rock or cactus.

In space, he had spent the majority of his stealth missions creeping around corridors awash with purple lighting and Galran architecture he could hide behind.

In comparison, the forest held a thousand possibilities even his keen senses would not be able to detect until it was too late. A thousand potential enemies waited just beyond the veil of dancing shadows; a thousand possible threats watched them, concealed by the leaves and undergrowth.

The whole thing gave Keith the feeling of standing by the window of a well-lit house at night, staring out into the darkness beyond – where anything could be lurking out there, able to see him perfectly, while it remained hidden from his sight.

 

 

The two of them crouched in their barely sheltered position for a few long seconds, before Alvarez placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I thought I saw a flash of movement through the trees,” he murmured. “Must’ve just been a trick of the light.”

Keith nodded, slowly rising to his feet.

 

As they continued on, however, he made sure to keep half his attention focused on the forest and every potential that lay within.

 

 

 

“The point I was trying to make,” Alvarez continued after a moment, his voice quieter than before. “Was that even when Keira and I were hooking up, it still took me a very long time to realize that I actually had a real shot with her. Like, a shot at a real relationship, not just fuckbuddies. But as soon as I realized that I actually did, the idea of flirting with anyone else went out the window. And you’re probably thinking ‘How could you not have realized sooner? You’re always talking such a big game and flirting like you know you’re hot shit.’” He placed one hand on his chest, flashing Keith a stupidly charming smile. “But the thing is – and I would bet all my non-existent money your Lance feels the same way – I still can’t believe I landed someone like Keira. I still think she’s way out of my league.” His tone was sober, now, as he placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “And I’m going to marry the fuck out of her, Keith. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her, but that doesn’t mean all my personal insecurities about how much I deserve and what I’m worth have been erased.”

Keith couldn’t help the way his brows pulled into a frown at that. Because the Lance he knew deserved the world, and Keith was the one who would never measure up. Lance was the one who –

“Oh, I know that face,” Alvarez interrupted his thoughts. “Keira makes it, too – right before she comes out with some shit that just blows my mind. Like ‘Lance, you deserve everything’ or ‘What are you talking about? You’re the one who’s out of my league.’”

Keith hunched his shoulders up to his ears. “Well, it’s true, though.”

Alvarez chuckled, the sound worming its way into Keith’s heart and filling his chest with warmth. “Doesn’t mean I believe it for myself, though. Exactly how -” he held up a finger before Keith could respond. “You’re finding it so hard to believe your Lance could have feelings for you.”

“All I’ve done for him –“ the words escaped before Keith could stop them. “Is make everything worse.”

“Buddy, you said you gave him a blowjob.”

“That’s not –“

“I’m kidding. Relax.” Alvarez waved that off. “But my point stands that you know what you just said isn’t true. You’re just stuck feeling sorry for yourself and doing that thing where you’re trying to find an excuse to end things before they can end on you.”

Keith drew in a breath to retort, but only wound up staring at Alvarez with an open mouth. He wanted to say ‘I’m not.’ He wanted to say ‘Things end on me, it’s not my doing.’

He wanted to say ‘I don’t want this to end, but I’m so afraid of what will happen when it does.’

 

“Keith.” The seriousness in Alvarez’ voice drew him back as he began to slip down the slope of self-pity. “I am going to spend the rest of my life with Keira. And I knew that long before I actually proposed. The minute I stopped flirting with other people, it was because that was my goal. So just think about it. Think about the last time your Lance openly flirted with someone else, and think about how he’s been acting towards you in comparison.”

 

 

 

 

Keith hated that he actually had an answer to that question – that he had always been so focused on Lance he could literally remember the last time he witnessed Lance flirting with strangers. Serious flirting, not the flirty talk he sometimes used toward his teammates.

At the time Keith had thought it was because Lance was dating Allura, but now his mind reeled as he realized it might have been something else entirely.

 

 

           

Three days before the Atlas was set to launch, the Garrison had arranged a gathering for the crew – a sort of orientation, where everyone could mingle and socialize, and get to know one another.

 

Pidge had refused to attend, claiming they had far too much to get done before the launch, but Keith, Hunk, Lance, Shiro, Allura and Coran had all been expected to make an appearance.

Keith had never been good at social events, but this one had started off surprisingly well.

Lance and Hunk had seemed happy enough to spend time with him, eating and drinking from stupid little plates and disposable cups, talking and laughing and people watching.

Hunk had been the first to leave, called off by someone from the engineering team of the Atlas, but Lance had stayed – relaxed, and annoyingly handsome in his new uniform, sticking close to Keith’s side.

For a while, everything had been fine. It had been great, in fact. Keith found himself smiling for the first time in what felt like months, involuntarily laughing at some of Lance’s jokes. He had found himself loosening up and feeling like maybe it would all be okay. Maybe they could still function as they had before; maybe he could still be friends with Lance and forget how hopelessly in love he was.

 

That was until a group of girls who Lance seemed to recognize from their days at the Garrison approached.

           

Keith had watched Lance flirt with countless girls before. It was nothing new.

But it had always happened at a distance – somewhere in Keith’s proximity, and never before so blatantly in front of his face.

Never before had it been so clear to him that he was in the way.

 

He hadn’t said a word as he turned and walked off through the crowd. He hadn’t looked back to see how quickly Lance had forgotten he was there.

 

He had wandered through the empty halls of the Garrison, his feet eventually carrying him up to the roof. The open terrace had always been where he would go when he was feeling too many things. The star-filled sky above had always helped ground him because gazing at it had helped remind him how insignificant he was in comparison to the whole of the universe.

It had made his problems feel small, if only for a moment.

 

The cool desert air of that night hadn’t done much to help erase the sound of Lance’s flirtatious laughter, however.

The cold metal of the railing under his palms wasn’t enough to block out the chill he had felt at being slowly pushed out of the conversation.

He had been so focused on shutting parts of his mind off that he hadn’t heard the rooftop door creak open.

It wasn’t until Shiro came to stand beside Keith that he had realized he wasn’t alone.

 

“Tough to watch him flirting right in front of you?”

           

Keith had sighed, tilting his head back and returning his eyes to the stars. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

Shiro had let out a small huff of sympathetic laughter. “You can tell yourself you are used to it all you want, but that doesn’t mean it’s not going to hurt.” He had put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “You know it’s not going to get any better if you never talk to him.”

“Oh yeah.” Keith’s bitter laugh had cut through the calm and still of the night.  “I’ll just march right up to him, drag him away from his fun and confess my undying love. I’m sure that will go over really well.”

“We both know that would still be better than how I handled things with Adam.”

Anything would be better than you with Adam.”

 

 

Back in the early years at the Garrison, Keith had been in the unique position to know Shiro, while at the same time getting to overhear how many people spoke of him with reverence.

 

“Professor Shirogane is so hot, I bet he has gotten a thousand confessions of love and graciously turned them down.”

 

“He always knows exactly what to say. He’s so kind and eloquent!”

 

I bet he’d make the best husband. I’d shoot my shot, but I don’t even deserve him, you know?”

 

Keith had to hold himself back from laughing, wondering how these people would react if they got to know the real Shiro – a man who couldn’t make ramen noodles to save his life, and who had once forgotten to wash any of his uniform pants.

A man who Keith had walked in on one day sitting on the couch with the most forlorn, helpless expression on his face. When Keith had questioned him, he had blurted out that he had been grabbing some groceries and had run into Adam, and that he had invited Adam to dinner later that evening.

He had broken down when Keith asked him why he was freaking out and explained that he had invited Adam to a homecooked dinner – except he had been so nervous after Adam had accepted, the only things he had grabbed from the store was a pack of sliced cheese and a bag of baby carrots, and he wasn’t sure a meal could me made from those ingredients.

 

 

The memory had brought a wave of fondness that was quickly and sharply undercut by the reality that Adam was no longer with them to share in it.

Shiro had leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the railing and casting Keith a sidelong glance. “I’m serious, though. It looked like you two were having a really good time before. I haven’t seen you smile like that in…months? You never know unless you take a chance, Keith.”

The stars had been the only thing holding Keith together as he let his gaze travel out across the night sky. They would soon be out there – fighting and moving forward, and he would have a purpose to distract him again.

He had wished he could explain that to Shiro.

He had wished he could tell him why the idea of you never know didn’t make any of this better.

He had wished he could finally admit to Shiro just how sure he was that he would never be anything more than a placeholder in Lance’s life – just someone to fill the space until a better option came along.

 

He had wished more than anything that he could finally express how temporary everything felt. How it felt as though he was always just biding his time, waiting for things to move on and leave him in the dust. His mom. The Garrison. Shiro. Lance. Voltron.

           

But he could never say any of those things. They would only gain him pity and not true understanding, and he couldn’t deal with that. Not now. Not ever.

Not when he was supposed to help inspire hope across the universe, even though he had none left for himself.

 

 

The rooftop door slamming open behind them had made both Keith and Shiro whirl around.

“Oh –“ Lance had sounded winded as though he’d been running. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just –“ His eyes had found Keith’s across the terrace. “You just left and they were being pretty rude, and I just wanted to see if you were…um…” His eyes had darted from Keith to Shiro nervously.

Shiro had patted Keith on his back. “I was just leaving actually,” he said, before leaning down and whispering in Keith’s ear, “He came to find you.”

 

Lance had hovered by the doorway until Shiro’s retreating footsteps faded out of earshot. Then he had slowly walked over to take the now vacant spot by the railing.

“I’m really sorry about them, man.”

Keith had frowned. “I don’t understand. It sounded like you were having a really nice time.”

Lance had sighed, leaning his arms onto the railing. “I mean, yeah they were hot and everything, and they seemed really interested in our Voltron travels, but –“

“So what are you doing up here with me?”

Lance had bristled, hunching his shoulders. “If you don’t want me here, I can go!”

“I didn’t say that, I –“ It had been Keith’s turn to sigh. “I just don’t get it. That’s all.”

“I dunno, man.” Lance had occupied himself by picking at the flaking paint on the railing. “I just…thought you and I were having a really nice time hanging out and I feel like they came in and ruined it. And I think I made it worse because I just reverted back to my usual self, flirting and everything.”

Part of Keith’s heart had wanted to reach out. It wanted to take Shiro’s advice and turn to Lance and tell him everything.

 

Part of his heart had wondered if Lance would even accept it – here, alone, under the stars.

 

But, as always, the larger part of his heart had dragged him back down; made him face forward. Made him release the tiny bit of hope that had flared inside his chest in exchange for the reality he knew.

“Lance,” Keith’s voice had been subdued. “You know I don’t like social situations. Yeah, we were having fun, but that doesn’t mean I get to stand in the way of you possibly finding Mrs. Blue Lion.” He had plastered on a smile he hoped appeared genuine, smacking Lance’s arm with the back of his knuckles.

Something had passed across Lance’s face, and for a second Keith was afraid he had deeply offended Lance. Before he could figure it out, however, Lance had resting his chin on his arms, his hair obscuring his face. “Yeah. Right.” He had sounded strangely somber. “Of course. That’s what I always said before, wasn’t it?”

“I guess it has to be Mrs. Red Lion, now, actually.”

“Mrs. Red Lion.” Lance had repeated the words, as if testing them out. Then he had made a dissatisfied noise. “Ehh…not really a fan of that, to be honest. Doesn’t sound quite right.”

“Regardless –“ It hadn’t sounded right to Keith, either, but surely for different reasons. “My point was that I can take care of myself. And you don’t have to worry about me. Go flirt with whoever you like, and enjoy the party. I think I’m just done for the night.”

“Damn. That sounds like a dismissal, Team Leader.” Lance had chuckled. Slowly, had he straightened up, but hesitated to leave. “You sure you don’t want some company?”

It had been getting harder and harder to play at being happy, and Keith needed him to leave. “Don’t worry about me, Lance. I’m fine up here. You deserve to go have fun. I know how much you enjoy parties.”

“Yeah.” Lance hadn’t sounded too convinced. But then he had shaken his head and brightened up, flashing Keith a smile. “Of course. Parties and Lance go together like peanut butter and chocolate. I’ll catch ya later, okay?”

 

Keith had waited until he heard the roof door shut behind Lance before he slumped forward, hiding his face in his hands and wishing this entire night could just be over.

 

Three days later, the Atlas had left Earth’s atmosphere, and Lance was spending more and more time with Allura. And Keith told himself it wouldn’t have mattered if he had confessed anything that night, anyway.

 

           

He hadn’t thought about it until Alvarez brought it up, but that had been the last time he saw Lance flirting with strangers.

 

 

 

“You’re just now realizing it’s been a really long time, right?”

Keith hunched his shoulders. “I thought it was because he was dating Allura.”

“Allura?” Just hearing that name was apparently enough cause for Alvarez to grab hold of Keith’s vest, yanking him to a halt. “Long white hair, gorgeous blue eyes, fucking ethereal Allura?” He barked out a laugh, loud and disbelieving. “I was gonna say damn, I can’t believe you thought a Lance could pull someone like that but well…” Alvarez’s eyes met Keith’s with a deep fondness he wasn’t prepared for. “Looks like I got you twice, so there must be something I’ve got going for me.”

He must have noticed the drop in Keith’s expression because he patted him on the vest, eyes softening. “Hey. Just think about what I said, okay. I know I can’t speak for your Lance but also I kind of…can, so... All I’m saying is that I did a lot of things – I made a lot of choices – that had way more to do with Keira than she ever realized, and it’s probably the same for him with you.” He started to move forward again, giving Keith’s vest a tug as an indication to follow. “I get that you’re probably afraid he might run off if you tell him your feelings too soon, but… Look, you probably don’t have to be scared of that. No one is ever going to feel exactly the same way as someone else, but I bet the gap is waaaay closer than you’ve been thinking it is.”

Then, in true Lance fashion, Alvarez’s serious tone slid seamlessly to a teasing one. “Plus, if you run away now you’re gonna miss out on getting more of that dick. And I have it on good authority that it’s not half bad.” His grin stretched into something that shamelessly splashed more color across Keith’s cheeks, and added, “If it would help you get over these unfounded insecurities, I could have a conversation with Lance. You know. Drop some solid hints about stuff I’m guessing you like as much as Keira does.”

“Don’t make me regret talking to you.” Keith shot him the best death glare he could manage before picking up the pace – hurrying forward as though he could outrun the images Alvarez’ words were strategically placing in his head.

 

           

           

           

Oriande base, it turned out, was massive. It was so large that halfway around the perimeter, Alvarez and Keith paused for a short break – both deeming it safe as neither had seen any further movement from the trees.

They grabbed some water and Keith listened to Alvarez chatter on about some mission he’d gone on – although he was only half paying attention, his mind occupied with their earlier conversation.

 

Before, Keith’s only thought was to give Lance some space. To give himself some space so he could clear his head and maybe start to put things into perspective.

But after his talk with Alvarez, his thoughts kept traveling back to Lance.

 

The tenderness in Lance’s kisses.

The neediness in his touches.

The look in his eyes after Keith had made a stupid joke after the blowjob – the way his whole face lit up with laughter.

           

“Keith. I’ll be here. When you get back. When you’re ready to talk. I’ll be here. And then we can navigate this together, okay? Because I’m scared, too.”

 

It took Keith a moment to understand what he was feeling; the lightness in his chest, the need the seemed to be pulling him forward, drawing him toward something warm and inviting and –

Hopeful.

 

For the first time, he let that spark of hope light inside his chest. He let it grow, stoking it with all the memories Keith had written off before.

 

Memories of the way Lance looked at him.

Memories of the things Lance said to him.

Memories of the way Lance’s hands reached for him.

 

The memories made the hope flourish into a wildfire that burned with all the possibilities he had shoved aside.

Because when he laid them all out and really allowed himself to look, he could see there was something there – he had just been too scared to actually recognize it.

He was still scared, now, but he could no longer use that fear as an excuse as to why he should not take a chance, as Shiro had told him all those months ago.

He had been so focused on everything he thought he was doing wrong, he hadn’t been able to see the moments that had been showing him the truth – that Lance cared about him. That maybe, even, Lance could learn to love him with time.

 

The hope in Keith’s chest was like a beacon cutting through a storm – carving a path through all his doubt and insecurity – guiding him toward the safety of the things he had accepted he would never have: Love. Comfort. Happiness.

 

He needed to get back to the base.

He needed to talk to Lance.

He needed to be honest with Lance for the first time in his life.

 

He needed to be brave.

 

He didn’t want to just give up this time. He didn’t want his anxiety and resignation to get in the way; he didn’t want them to hold him back as they had been doing for so long.

 

So it was actually a little infuriating that he was currently out here at the far side of this enormous base, and he would have to walk all the way back around before getting the chance to tell Lance everything he deserved to hear.

It was all he could think about as they started off again, skirting the perimeter and gradually curving back around the base toward the entrance.

The sun was bright through the trees as they moved as quietly as they were able, keeping an eye out for any obvious movement or anything out of the ordinary.

 

Alvarez was a welcome distraction.

He asked about the other universe, and Keith found it oddly refreshing to be able to tell someone the story of how they wound up in space – that first exhilarating flight in the Blue Lion, and everything that followed: Meeting Allura and Coran. Being given a purpose. How he’d had to prove himself to Red –

 

Alvarez was entranced by the story, asking question after question, and commenting on how unfair it was that he and Keira got stuck in this hot as balls jungle universe while their counterparts got to experience space travel.

When Keith described the bayards and how they morphed to fit each paladin’s needs, Alvarez tossed his head back, complaining to the sky about how cool that was and how cruel and unfair the universe was being to him, on a personal level.

 

 

So he didn’t notice.

Not in time.

 

Or, at the very least, he did not notice before Keith did, and Keith’s first instinct unfortunately did not involve going for a firearm.

 

The only thing Keith’s mind registered was distinct movement from within the forest – an unfamiliar figure stepping out from behind a tree and raising their arm as something flashed in the sunlight.

That was all he knew before his body moved on instinct; before his mind could warn him about being reckless and stupid.

He yanked Alvarez out of the way – his brain registering the soft, explosive pop from behind him, immediately followed by Alvarez’s shout.

And then his own ears were ringing as Alvarez whipped his gun up and fired a shot past Keith’s head.

 

 

That was when everything slowed down.

 

 

The sharp, white-hot pain just above Keith’s hip radiated out, spreading through his body.

He blinked – and it felt as though that tiny action took five years to complete. He heard Lance’s voice – older, rougher, muffled – as though he was listening to it from beneath the surface of a lake.

Everything felt heavy; every breath struggling against a force pressing down on his ribcage.

There was a sharp and sudden pull from his abdomen and the pain shocked his mind out of the growing fog. He registered Alvarez’s hand on his shoulder, then, and remembered it was not Lance’s voice he was hearing. Not his Lance.

The words slid back into focus until Keith could actually make out what Alvarez was saying.

The man sounded rattled, slightly breathless – “Hey, you all right? I didn’t see him – shit, rookie mistake – but I got him. You’re not hit are you?”

For some reason, Keith’s mind could only latch onto individual details of Alvarez’ face – blue eyes wide and staring, white teeth, lips pulled back in a grimace instead of a smile –

Lance’s face was made for smiling. He had such a brilliant smile – big and bright, lighting up his entire face, and Keith –

“…never told you.”

Alvarez leaned forward, brow furrowing in confusion. Keith could still feel the pressure of his hand on his shoulder. “Never told me what?”

Keith shook his head once and then squeezed his eyes shut as the world spun out of control. “No. Not you,” he rasped, trying to stay upright; trying to fight against the way the ground beckoned to him like a siren’s call from the depths of the ocean.

“What are you –“

Keith forced his eyes open and the light was suddenly too bright.

“Keith –“ The moment Alvarez removed his hand from Keith’s shoulder, the world tilted as though there was no force strong enough to keep him anchored to the ground.

For a moment, everything went dark and dizzy – and then the sharp pull radiating down his leg and up toward his ribs brought him back, gasping; eyes stinging.

 

He was on the ground, his upper body supported in Alvarez’s arms. There was a sudden pressure on his hip and he couldn’t help the small, pitiful noise that was forced from his throat.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry – but please –“ Alvarez was babbling above him, face twisted in fear, eyes wide and shiny. “Fuck, he got right under your vest –“

 

His eyes had always been bright and warm and blue.

So blue.

So –

 

So not his Lance.

 

So similar, but not the person Keith desperately wanted in that moment.

It was almost a cruel joke, to have this version of Lance here with him, now.

But not his Lance.

Not the one person he wanted to live for.

 

 

Alvarez’s fingers came up against the side of Keith’s face. “Don’t… Oh God, please – don’t – don’t cry, okay? You’re okay, Keith. You’re gonna be okay, do you hear me?”

 

But there was darkness bleeding in around Alvarez’s head, and Keith was panicking.

“Don’t wanna die.” His chest ached from a different kind of pain – the deep, emotional realization that he finally meant those words. “I don’t…don’t wanna leave.” His breath was ragged from the physical pain and the stress. “Not now. I can’t –“

 

Then, like a blessing, the panic slipped from Alvarez’s face, replaced by resolve and determination. “Look at me, Keith.” His voice was steady and gentle.

 

Lance’s voice –

 

“Look at me,” Alvarez repeated. “Pretend I am your Lance. And you fight.”

Keith focused on the blue eyes hovering above him as everything else faded away

 

Lance’s eyes.

 

“You stay. You fight. You wanna live? Then live. Don’t give in.”

 

           

It had always been Lance who was able to pull Keith back when things began to spiral out of control. It had always been Lance who was able to ground him, to steady him, to give him strength.

 

 

Lance’s face, Lance’s eyes, Lance’s voice, Lance’s words, Lance’s tenacity –

 

Keith grabbed hold of it all –

And he fought.

 

 

 

END OF CHAPTER TEN

Chapter 11: STILL

Summary:

Lance sees the world in shades of red.

Notes:

CONTENT WARNING: HEAVY EXPRESSIONS OF GRIEF

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ELEVEN — STILL

 

 

Lance POV

 

 

 

 

Despite everything, Lance was hopeful.

He had taken a chance – really put himself out there with Keith, and he hadn’t been shot down and rejected. There were still so many things they needed to talk about and figure out, but for the first time he felt that when they had that talk, it wasn’t guaranteed to leave him with a broken heart.

 

His current problem was he was left with nothing but time as he waited for Keith to return. And time led to overthinking.

 

Keith had claimed Lance always knew what to say, and he could admit that occasionally that had been true. He could remember times where he had found the right words at the right moment, and things had worked out.

But this pending conversation felt so much more important, despite other situations having involved literal life or death consequences. He had to be clear, but not come on too strong. He had to be honest, but not so much that he blurted out a specific word that would scare Keith off. He had to be gentle, but not too vague that Keith wouldn’t understand what he was trying to say.

Normally under similar circumstances, he would have gone to Hunk for help. But the Hunk that was just a brisk walk away in the kitchens was not his Hunk. Lance was sure he still possessed the same characteristics of being an amazing listener and hype man, but it didn’t feel right to bear his soul to someone who was technically a stranger.

 

Without his usual solution to fall back on, and in an attempt to keep his anxieties at bay, he was left to wander aimlessly around the base with his obviously annoyed escort in tow. Eventually he made his way to the training rooms, where he decided to stop for a moment and peer inside. There were several people working out, as well as several others in what looked to be some kind of martial arts class.

“Hey,” Lance turned to his escort. “Do you have a firing range or anything like that here?”

The soldier, whose name badge read “Sosa,” raised an eyebrow. “Why? You good with a gun?”

It was just the distraction Lance needed.

He gave a casual shrug. “Back on my world, I used to get in some training that way, so I was hoping to see if I could do the same, here. You know, so I don’t get rusty.”

Despite the doubtful expression on Sosa’s face, he led Lance to an enclosed courtyard past the medical wing of the base. Targets had been set up at various distances and a locked cabinet held the weapons and ammunition they were to use. Sosa unlocked the cabinet and handed him a pistol, explaining they had a limited supply of bullets to spare for training, so if he missed too often, this session would be cut short so as not to actually waste ammunition.

 

As soon as the gun was in Lance’s hand, his mind settled.

 

 

“How can you be so disorganized all the time,” Pidge had said to him once. “And still able to actually be a good sniper?”

He had teased them for admitting he was good at something, but secretly he had always wondered the same thing – how could he get bored so easily flying long distances, or sitting during a meeting, and yet be able to stay perfectly still and focused in order to pull off the perfect shot?

“Because Lance knows when to be serious.”

It had been Keith who answered the question for him, which had startled Lance into silence.

“What?” Keith had shrugged, giving them a look like what he had said was the most obvious thing in the world. “He’s so different during battle I thought everyone knew.”

 

 

Lance acknowledged all of what Sosa said, then squared up and fired directly into the bull’s eye of the target 25 yards away. He couldn’t help himself as he turned to give Sosa a wink before pivoting back and firing two more shots – both hitting the spots where the eyes would have been on the human silhouette of the target. 

When he turned back to Sosa a second time, the man was glaring at him with something that looked like begrudging admiration. “Show off,” he muttered, and Lance laughed.

“Hey, I’m good at one thing, and it’s rare I get to show it off because the team I’m on is filled with so many amazing people.”

Sosa looked pointedly at the target. When he turned back to Lance it was with far less annoyance than he’d shown all morning. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

“Oh.” Lance shrugged. “I mean, my family loved going to state fairs and stuff when we were younger and I always was pretty decent at those shooter games. My mom has a whole collection of giant stuffed animals I got as prizes. Then when I became a part of Voltron, my bayard just transformed into a gun so I rolled with it and practiced. There were, like, a hundred different programs I could use when we weren’t fighting.” He waved a hand at the target. “It’s a bit different since I used, I dunno, blasters? Lasers? But it’s the same principle.”

Sosa was quiet for a second before asking, “You got any pointers?”

 

 

For the next hour, the two of them chatted and trained, and offered each other advice –  and Lance was able to take his mind off Keith and all the anxiety he faced when he and Alvarez returned from their scouting mission.

 

At the end of the hour, Lance and Sosa were making their way toward the cafeteria when a commotion from down the hallway caught their attention.

Several people rounded the corner and started hurrying down the hallway, making Lance and Sosa flatten against the wall in order to avoid a collision. Two members of the medical staff were leading the pack, while two more ran behind wheeling a gurney.

 

As the group raced past, everything slowed to a suffocating, dizzying pace, where Lance’s brain could only capture snapshots of fractured images:

 

Dark hair.

Pale skin.

Red blood staining a white shirt.

 

His mind tunneled inwards so immediately, he lost all sense of his surroundings. He didn’t even realize he was lurching forward after the medical team until someone was grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him against a wall.

“Don’t –“ It was his own voice – frantic and breathless – and that didn’t make sense. Even when he looked up, it took his mind a moment to understand that it was Alvarez – eyes wide, hair in disarray, and sweat on his brow – holding him in place and not his own reflection.

The puzzle pieces of the situation were scattered across the floor, and as Lance desperately scrambled to pick them up and fit them together, he was able to latch onto one thing: The color red splattered across Alvarez’s front.

And slowly, the picture began to form.

 

Look at me, Red.

Stay with me, Red.

Red, Red, Red…

 

 

Understanding barreled into Lance with the force of a freight train, and he struggled against the hands pressing him against the wall.

“Keep it together!” Alvarez barked.

“Keep it –“ Lance was shaking. His head snapped around but the gurney was gone. It was gone and he needed to follow it. He needed to know – “What… Was that? God, there’s so much blood on you, and it… It can’t… Was that Keith?”

“You can’t lose it right now. You have to –“

“Was that Keith?” Lance yelled, wrestling out of his hold and shoving him away. He tried to make a break for it, but Alvarez caught him around the waist and dragged him back over to the wall, shoving him against it again, and boxing him in.

“Get the fuck off!” Lance’s vision was blurring.

“He was shot!” Alvarez had Lance’s arms pinned, and he leaned in as those words momentarily stilled Lance’s struggling. “There was a gunman and I didn’t – didn’t see him. But Keith did, and he pulled me out of the way, but –“ Alvarez’s face crumpled and his head fell forward, forehead knocking against Lance’s shoulder as his voice grew thin. “He just collapsed… like Keira after she was...  He was bleeding out all over me and he…he wanted you. He was so scared, and he…” When he looked up to meet Lance’s eyes, his own were glistening wet. “I’m sorry, Lance. I’m so sorry, but…it’s really bad and the only chance he has is if we let the medics help him without distraction right now. You have to let them do their job. You can’t go after him and get in the way.”

Tears were dripping off Lance’s chin. He wanted to scream, but there was no air left in the hallway.

“You have to tell him.” Alvarez’s voice was hoarse and pained. “It’s the same, right? We’re the same? If he wakes up, you have to tell him –”

 

The word “if” thudded against Lance’s chest, cracking his ribs and piercing his heart.

 

“I need him.” Lance was dizzy. There was no air, and he couldn’t breathe; drowning in his own tears and suffocating under the weight pressing down on his chest. “I c-can’t – please –“

Alvarez’s arms snaked around Lance’s head and he pulled him in. Lance buried his face in Alvarez’s shoulder, hands grasping at the blood-stained vest.

Keith’s blood.

“I need him to be okay.” Lance was speaking to the universe, his voice broken and choked with tears, muffled against Alvarez’s shoulder. “Please – he has to be okay.”

Everything vanished until all that existed was that thought, repeated over and over – let him be okay, please let him be okay – and the hope that if he thought it strongly enough, he could will it into existence.

 

 

***

 

 

Lance didn’t remember Alvarez helping him back to the room he shared with Keith. He didn’t remember taking a seat on the bed, or Alvarez handing him a washcloth. He only realized where he was when there was a knock on the door, and a frazzled Keira burst in.

Lance watched from a thousand miles away as Alvarez caught her in his arms, and she buried her face in his shoulder. He watched as the two of them pressed together, and Keira’s arms wrapped tightly around Alvarez’ waist, ignoring the dried blood on his vest – her hands flexing, fingers digging into the fabric at his back.

His mind caught faint whispers between them and the way Alvarez pressed a kiss to her hair. He noted the way she raised her head and pressed a responding kiss to his cheek.

 

And he had to look away.

 

Because their relationship was everything Lance wanted, and now he was faced with the possibility that it might be something he would never…

Something that might not…

 

“Lance.”

 

Something he…

 

“Lance, I need you to hear something. Can you look at me for a second?”

His eyes were stinging with tears as he turned toward the voice that was so like Keith’s. He didn’t know when Keira had moved to kneel before him, but she was suddenly too close and he couldn’t look at her. Because everything else about her might have been just different enough to make things bearable, but her eyes were Keith’s eyes. And Lance’s mind was too fragile to cope with that.

“I know, I know –“ Keira’s voice held so much sympathy. “I know it’s hard, but I need you to see this.” Out of the corner of his eye, Lance caught the movement as she stood abruptly and untucked the hem of her shirt from her pants. “Look at me. Lance. Look.”

He forced his eyes upwards, and they caught on the patch of pale skin above Keira’s waistband. He stared, uncomprehending, until slowly the incessant pointing of her finger made his brain realize what she was actually showing him.

“I was also shot. Practically in the same place. And I’m here. I survived.” She dropped her shirt over the knot of scar tissue on her lower abdomen and leaned down, taking Lance by the shoulders. “Lance. Keith and I are the same, so the chances of him surviving –“

“Did you want to live?”

Keira froze. When she spoke, her voice was carefully controlled. “What do you mean?”

“When you got shot, did you want to live, or did you not really care either way?” All Lance could see was Keith’s eyes when he looked at her. “Were you too focused on the idiotic idea that it was your job to sacrifice yourself to save everyone else, and that nobody would care?”

Keira’s hands slipped off Lance’s shoulders, falling to her sides. The room was smothered in silence for a moment before she slowly sank back to her knees.

“It was hard for me,” she told him. “Growing up with the impression that I was never wanted. That nothing was permanent. I expected my life to be fast and fleeting, and I told myself I was okay with that. But you ruined that for me.” Her hands came up to wrap around the backs of his knees. “I thought I was supposed to live fast, die young, go out in a blaze of glory – all the cliches from those stupid movies you love so much. But then Alvarez had to go and make me fall in love with him. He showed me that sometimes the best parts of life are the ones that are slow and calm and simple. So, to answer your question, Lance, no. By the time I got shot, I really, really wanted to live.”

Alvarez stepped over to take a seat beside Lance. “So does Keith, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I don’t think he does.” It was almost too painful to say, and all Lance could do was whisper the words into existence, fearing the truth of them would alter something in the universe and seal Keith’s fate.

“No, Lance. He actually said so. He was so scared, but he was fighting.” Alvarez’s voice was quiet and gentle as he took one of Lance’s hands in his own. “He was fighting for you, but also for himself.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. I do know that because I know Keira. After all the things she and I have been through, I know what she looks like when she decides to not give up. And Keith wasn’t giving up, so you can’t either.”

“I…I’m not. I would never. But –“ Lance had never experienced grief like this. Despite his words and Alvarez’s assurance, his emotions exploded against his ribcage with an overwhelming, physical force that made him double over as the tears hit him without warning. “Why does he have to be so stupid? I love him so much, I can’t…I can’t –“ He was sobbing, hyperventilating, breaking

 

But Alvarez and Keira were there, wrapping their arms around him, and making sure he did not splinter and scatter across the floor.

 

 

***

 

 

Time had no meaning for Lance anymore because it was not made up of small moments and goals – one hour until lunch; two hours of training; thirty minutes before Hunk gets off his shift. There was only one goal. Only one thing that mattered, and until that happened, the hours and minutes ceased to exist.

Alvarez and Keira stayed with him, taking turns slipping out to check on things. Alvarez changed out of his bloody clothes and came back with the news that the doctors were still working. Keira slipped out next and came back with the same update.

They tried to get Lance to eat and drink, but all he could manage was a few sips of water.

They asked if he needed to sleep, or if he wanted to at least lie down and try to rest, but his body wouldn’t move from where he sat on the bed.

As Pidge had pointed out so long ago, under normal circumstances, Lance was a fidgeter. Under normal circumstances, he found it hard to remain still – always shifting positions, or fiddling with his hands, or any other inanimate object he had at his disposal.

But now, all he could manage to do was exist.

It was only after the second time Keira returned that he was able to move.

“He’s not awake,” she said, her expression grave. “But he is out of surgery. The doctors say you can see him, now, if you want. And they can tell you more about what’s happening.”

 

 

***

 

 

A woman in a white coat was waiting for them outside the medical wing. Lance tried to pay attention, but his mind was unable to latch onto anything except certain words here and there: Through and through. Patched him up, but. Unconscious. Days, by my best estimate. Blood loss…donate.

Keira and Alvarez were the ones who asked questions, and he was grateful for them because all he could do was wait until they were done talking so the doctor would open the door and let him see Keith.

Except when that happened, and Lance stepped into the room, his legs almost gave out beneath him. Keira caught him, wrapping an arm around his waist, but he could barely feel it.

 

Keith was lying in one of the medical beds.

He was finally right there. And yet he was so, so far away.

 

In movies and books, the cliché was to say an unconscious person appeared so still, it looked as though they could have been sleeping. Except Lance knew what Keith looked like while he was sleeping. Keith never slept on his back, always on his side or curled up on his stomach. Hair messy, legs askew, arms twisted under him, face contorting as all those nightmares wracked his mind.

When Keith was sleeping, after all those years spent surviving and fighting and leading, he would wake up at the smallest noise, the lightest touch, the quietest word.

 

He was never like this. So still. So calm. So absent.

It didn’t look like Keith was sleeping. It looked like Keith wasn’t there at all.

 

Lance wanted to touch him, now – to prove he really was on the bed. He wanted to reach out and let his fingers brush Keith’s hand just to see those eyes crack open as Keith’s brain pulled him back to the world.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Because he knew if he reached out, now, that wasn’t going to happen. If he touched Keith, now, he wasn’t going to respond, and Lance wasn’t sure he could face that reality.

 

 

***

           

 

“He’s gonna be okay, dude. You know that, right? Coran sounded super sure.”

Lance did know. He knew the logic in Hunk’s words, and he remembered the certainty in Coran’s voice. He knew Keith would be okay.

 

But it didn’t change the fact that he shouldn’t be in the pod in the first place.

It didn’t change the fact that Keith was so driven – full of life and anger and determination – and he didn’t look right behind the blue glass of the healing pod.

He was always so quick to shoot Lance a look whenever they were close to one another, and yet Lance was standing right in front of him, now, and he just…wasn’t there. He wasn’t present; he wasn’t responsive – and it didn’t matter how much assurance Coran provided. Lance knew he would always hate seeing Keith in that state.

 

“Why’s he gotta be so reckless all the time?” He asked, to no one in particular. “It’s really shitty of him to make us worry like this.”

“Aww.” Hunk nudged Lance’s shoulder. “Are you gonna sit outside his pod like a pining boyfriend? You gonna catch him in your arms and cradle him and confess your love when he wakes up?”

“First of all, fuck off.” Lance emphasized the words with a shove. “And second of all, it’s not wrong of me to worry when one of our teammates gets hurt and needs to be in an induced coma to heal up.” He rushed on in a meager attempt to hide the emotions rising in his chest. “I mean, do you know how hard it would be for us to find a new Red Paladin if he died?”

“Whoa, hey –“ Hunk held up both hands. “Nobody said anything about him dying!”

Lance scuffed his shoe against the base of the pod, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Yeah, well…none of you were there in the hanger.”

           

He’d seen Keith’s lion take the hit. He’d called out to him over the comms, and then when he didn’t get an immediate answer, he’d called Keith directly on his video link.

Keith had looked fine, if not a little shaken, and he had assured Lance he was okay and that they had to keep fighting.

But something had held Lance back after everyone had landed in the castleship hangar. Something had told him to wait for Keith – and when he saw Keith stumble out of the lion’s mouth, only to collapse on the ramp, he knew he had been right to wait.

Because stupid, reckless Keith didn’t have the sense to ask for help, even when he obviously needed it.

 

 

"Hey, Lance,” Hunk’s voice was serious. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that’s how you felt about this. Did you really think he was dying?”

Lance turned away from the pod, hiking his shoulders up to his ears. “I dunno, man. It doesn’t matter. Like Coran said, he’s gonna be fine, and it’s not like this is gonna stop him from doing reckless shit in the future. So…doesn’t matter.”

"Hey.” Hunk waited for Lance to glance back before he continued. “I’m sorry for teasing you. I’m also…processing, and trying to reassure myself it’s all gonna be okay, and it just came out as a nervous joke.”

Lance offered Hunk a small smile. “It’s fine, buddy. This is just…all kinds of fucked up, isn’t it?”

“It’s definitely not what I expected to be doing at seventeen.”

That drew a laugh from Lance, and after a second, Hunk joined in. He stepped over, wrapping an arm around Lance’s shoulders. “Let’s go see what everyone else is up to, okay? It’ll help take our minds off this.”

Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

 

As they were leaving the room, however, Lance glanced back one last time, taking in the sight of Keith suspended in the pod, surrounded in blue light. Quiet. Calm. Still.

And he knew it would be a long time before he would be able to let go of that image and how much he hated it.

 

 

***

 

 

It had been so many years since the first time he’d seen Keith in a pod. They’d been through so much, and they’d come so far since they were teenagers thrown into a galactic war.

But as much as Lance hated seeing Keith in a pod, he hated seeing Keith lying in a hospital bed so much more. He looked too vulnerable without the pod’s protective casing, and Lance made the decision in that moment that he would not budge from the bedside until Keith opened his eyes, no matter what anyone said.

Someone needed to be there to protect him.

Lance needed to be there.

 

 

The doctor sat Keira down in a chair and began drawing a vial of her blood. Only then did the words from before actually take on meaning in Lance’s mind.

Blood loss…

“I can donate.” His voice scratched against his throat, thin and raspy. “I’m a universal doner.”

“And I’m him, Lance, just from a different reality.” Keira paused and exchanged a look with the doctor. “They’re going to test my blood against his and see if it’s a match.”

“If it is not, we will ask you,” the doctor told him. “Your sample and his sample are both still in the science lab.”

 

 

Lance stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes fixed on Keith as the doctor sent Keira’s blood to the lab for testing. They had put Keith in a blue medical gown, and hooked up an IV to his arm. But apart from that, it was impossible to know that a bullet had torn through his body only hours earlier. It was impossible to tell, even know, how much he was still fighting for his life.

And there was nothing Lance could do to help. So, with all the simple optimism of a child, he devoted his energy into focusing on the rise and fall of Keith’s chest – willing it to continue.

He was vaguely aware that Keira was still seated by the bedside, but he was afraid that if he took his eyes off Keith, even for a second, he might stop breathing. So he stayed at the foot of the bed, hands grasping the footboard and eyes unblinking.

He heard the chair scrape across the floor as Keira got up and repositioned it closer to Keith’s head, but he ignored her.

“Lance.” Her voice was gentle. “I need you to sit down.”

He shook his head, but Keira wasn’t having it.

“Sit down. Now. You look like you’re about to pass out, and we can’t have two medical emergencies right now.”

Lance’s own wellbeing was miniscule on the scope of his thoughts that her words didn’t feel real. How could he take any luxury for himself when Keith had been shot? Why would he bother with anything that didn’t involve making sure Keith was still alive?

“He is not going to disappear if you look away.”

Keira’s words had logic to them, he knew, but this was also Keith they were talking about, and disappearing was his specialty.

“Lance.” There was something so Keith in Keira’s tone it made Lance’s eyes sting – something so caring and gentle veiled behind the mask of sternness. “I need you to sit down. Can you do that for me? You don’t want to make me worry, do you?”

It was such an obvious manipulative tactic – appealing to Lance’s compassion and guilt – but it also showed Lance in yet another way how well Keira knew Alvarez. And how similar they all were to one another.

When he tore his gaze away from Keith to look at her, his eyes burned from being open for so long, and he had to blink rapidly to relieve the sensation. Begrudgingly, he shuffled over to the chair on stiff legs and sat down on the edge, his spine straight. He would take a seat like she asked, but he couldn’t bring himself to relax.

Keira’s hand settled on his shoulder as if to keep him in place. “Would it help to touch him? Apparently Alvarez held my hand for almost the whole time I was out after being shot. And he never lets me forget it.”

“I don’t know if I can.” Lance’s lip quivered. “What if he’s too cold? What if I hold his hand and I check his pulse and I feel it stop?”

“Lance –” she pressed. “What if you hold his hand and that’s what helps him wake up?”

Lance sniffed. “I…don’t know if I believe that stuff.”

“All you need to believe is how much you mean to him. This isn’t some spiritual thing.”

Tears stung Lance’s already burning eyes, and he buried his face in his hands.

“I can only speak for myself, but…if this helps, I’m going to say it,” Keira continued. “Alvarez makes my life full. He brings me happiness, and reminds me I deserve it. Without him, the world isn’t as bright or as loud, and I thought I hated that kind of chaos. Growing up, I did hate it, but from him it’s different, because it’s never intrusive. It’s never overwhelming. And it comes from a place of so much love that sometimes I can’t hold it all in my heart.” Her fingers squeezed his shoulder affectionately. “Keith and I…we had it rough growing up, but all we have ever really wanted was to know that someone out there was willing to stay. That someone cared enough to stick around and allow us the chance to show how much love we were capable of. So take his hand, Lance. Let him know you’re still here. Let him know he’s not alone.”

 

 

Lance’s skin had never looked so dark against Keith’s as it did, now. He had always been pale, but never this ashen. Lance’s fingers slid over Keith’s hand, gliding down to press against his wrist. His pulse was there, slow and steady, and Lance drew in the only full breath he felt he had taken all day.

Keira took a few steps back, giving them some space, as Lance reached out one shaking hand to brush against Keith’s cheek.

 

 

His own cheeks felt stiff as the tear tracks dried on his skin. “I’m here, Red,” he whispered. “I’ll always be here. So just rest and get better. No matter how long it takes, I’ll still be here.” His lower lip trembled again and he had to clamp his teeth down on it before he was able to continue. “But please…please don’t take too long. There are so many things I want to do with you; so many things I want to tell you. I meant it when I said you wouldn’t be alone, so that means you’re not allowed to leave me all by myself.”

Keith didn’t respond, but his pulse beat steadily beneath Lance’s fingers.

 

 

***

 

 

People were in and out of the room throughout the day, but Lance didn’t move from his seat beside Keith’s bed. The doctor informed him he could stay as long as he needed, but regardless of their permission, he wouldn’t have budged unless they needed him out of the way to treat Keith.

Keira’s blood was a match, and they started a transfusion. Lance watched as the color gradually began to return to Keith’s cheeks. He felt as his pulse became a little stronger and a little faster.

The medical staff would come in and check on Keith every so often. Alvarez and Keira popped in to check, as well, and to try to get Lance to eat and drink. Eventually he caved and picked at the sandwich they left for him – more to appease them than out of his own bodily needs.

 

 

He had no idea how long he’d been sitting by Keith’s bedside, but as the hours dragged on the panic inside his chest slowly began to subside. He watched Keith’s chest rise and fall. He felt the pulse beneath his fingers, and he finally gave himself permission to relax – even if that only meant sitting back in the chair and not preparing to leap up at any second.

 

Any pacifying progress he had made, however, was undone when someone new stepped into the room.

James paused several feet away from the bed as Lance sat up straighter, his eyes sharp and his hand tightening around Keith’s.

“I just wanted…” James faltered, glancing away. “Look, Lance, I’m sorry. I just wanted to see how he was doing.”

“He’s not a replacement for Keira.” The stress and anxiety and lack of sleep left no filter on his words. “You have no idea how much he means to me, so you can just fuck right off with your fake concern.”

“It’s not fake –“

“I don’t care!” Lance’s legs were so stiff, they screamed in protest as he rose from the chair, leaning over the bed protectively. “I can’t deal with you right now! I can’t deal with any of this if he doesn’t wake up –“

Only as he spoke the words did he realize how long he’d been holding them against his heart, shielding them against the fear of their potential actuality.

“He said we’d talk when he got back –“ Once the words were set free, they couldn’t be stopped. He had broken so many times today, and yet somehow his fractured pieces seemed to find new ways to splinter and crack. “He said he just needed time to…to figure things out, but he… He has to know what he means to me, right? He has to know I would do anything… I would give him all my time… my life…”

Lance was crying too hard to be aware of anything else – the crumbling pieces of his heart slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

He didn’t know when James moved toward him, only that suddenly he was wrapped up in a tight hug, one hand stroking his back.

“It’s okay.” There was something like defeat in James’ voice, but also a strange kind of comfort that Lance grabbed hold of with both hands. “I’m sure he knows. If you two are even remotely like Alvarez and Keira…you’re going to fine and happy. Just please…learn to talk to each other, for once.”

Lance only had a vague memory of James guiding him back to the chair. And then the room was empty again, leaving Lance alone to curl up in the seat and let his tears run their course.

When his emotions were spent, it left him wiped clean. All he had left was the energy to lean forward and rest his head on the mattress, taking hold of Keith’s hand once again.

 

“Just come back, Red,” Lance whispered into the stillness of the room. “It doesn’t have to be right now. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow. But just…just come back. Just wake up. Just let me hear your voice again.” He pressed a trembling kiss against Keith’s knuckles, letting his eyes slide shut. “I’ll do better. I’ll be better. I’ll tell you everything you deserve to hear so you don’t need to be afraid of this anymore. Just stay with me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you. Just stay.”

 

The steady rhythm of Keith’s pulse finally lulled Lance into a restless sleep, and when he dreamed, his mind was washed in shades of red.

 

 

 

END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN

Chapter 12: US

Summary:

Keith wakes up.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWELVE — US

 

Keith POV

 

 

 

 

Consciousness came back in stages.

A sterile smell, a rhythmic beeping, a soft feeling of a mattress beneath his body…

 

Keith had woken up in hospitals before — the fate of someone reckless who owned both a knife and a bike — but he had gotten used to waking up in the pods back on the Castleship. There had always been something comforting about being pulled back to consciousness by the sounds of his team’s voices, or the warmth of someone’s arms.

Waking up here was quiet and white and unfamiliar. All except for one thing — a gentle pressure against his hand, barely there, but still so familiar.

 

Even in sleep Lance looked exhausted, as Keith’s eyes lowered and caught sight of him by the bed, half on a chair, half propped against the mattress, one hand looped through Keith’s.

Keith hadn’t meant to wake him, but the slight curl of his fingers made Lance jerk up, eyes wide and bleary.

When those eyes settled on Keith’s, Lance froze. For a moment, they only stared at one another before Lance’s eyebrows hitched upwards and his lower lip quivered once.

“Hey, Red.” His voice was almost too quiet to hear.

“Hi, Lance.” Keith’s own voice was rough from disuse.

Lance’s lip quivered again before his mouth stretched into a forced smile. He rose from the chair and leaned closer. “Are you…are you really awake?”

It was a strange question, and Keith frowned. It was taking his brain longer to put all the pieces together than normal.

He was in a hospital bed.

He had gone on a scouting mission with Alvarez.

He was supposed to have a talk with Lance when he got back.

He had been —

Lance was still gripping one hand, so Keith raised his free one and gently pressed it against his side. “I think…I was shot.”

It was almost too painful to see that smile remain on Lance’s face even as his expression crumbled around it. “Yeah…” his voice was thin and strained. “Yeah, you were. It was actually…really scary there for a minute. But the doctors patched you up, and…” He broke off, swallowing. “How are you feeling?”

Keith’s frown returned. “How are you feeling?” he countered. “Did something happen while I was out?”

Panic blossomed in Keith’s chest as that infuriating smile remained on Lance’s face even as tears streaked down his cheeks. Keith tried to sit up, but a shaking hand pushed him back onto the pillows.

“What happened Lance?” Keith demanded, quiet and desperate. “Are you hurt?”

His question was met with a watery laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, Keith. This really hurt. I asked you to be careful. I –“ The smile was slipping. “You were out for three days, and I had no idea if you would… So just please tell me how you’re feeling.”

Keith searched his face, unable to hide his concern that there was something Lance wasn’t telling him. “It hurts,” he said, gingerly patting his stomach. “But it’s not terrible. Head’s a bit fuzzy so I’m probably on meds.” Weakly he raised their joined hands and stretched a finger out to touch Lance’s wet cheek. “That hurts more. Seeing you like this.”

Lance pulled their hands away from his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut and he brought Keith’s knuckles up to press against his lips. Not a kiss. Simply holding them there. “You promised me we’d talk when you got back.” The words were whispered against Keith’s hand, and it didn’t make sense. “I waited for three days just to hear your stupid voice.”

Keith had only ever heard Lance sound like this when talking about whether or not he would see his family again. It was something buried at the very core of his heart; a burning gem of pure, unadulterated emotion that he only called upon when he felt his most defeated. Broken. Lost.

When Lance had used that tone before, Keith had been able to respond with something reassuring. He had been able to give Lance his hope back, because he had resolved long ago that no matter what happened, he would make sure Lance got to see his family again.

But now he could only stare in helplessness, because Lance sounded that way because of Keith’s own actions. Lance looked that way because…he had almost lost Keith, and that was too much for his still fuzzy mind to comprehend.

Gently, Lance laid Keith’s hand back down on the bed, squeezing his fingers once before releasing his grip. “It’s okay. Just rest. I’m gonna go get a doctor to check on you. I’ll be right back.”

Keith’s eyes followed him even after he left the room, wishing he had the words to make this right.

 

 

***

 

 

The doctor who swept in with Lance trailing behind was a stern-faced woman with graying hair and a white coat.

She got right down to business, checking Keith out with cold precision, and he was grateful for it. He had had too many doctors and nurses in the past be gentle with him, using a tone that he had always found disingenuous as they made time to remind him to be less reckless because there were people who cared about his well being. He had always said whatever he needed to in order to make those people just get on with it, feeling like they had accomplished something; hiding the fact that from his perspective, the words they said were all lies.

He was glad this doctor did not say anything like that, now. Not with Lance standing right there, still looking so lost and alone.

 

Keith knew he had never been the best at reading people or situations. He knew he sometimes missed cues and didn’t understand jokes because he had grown up in a very different environment than most of his classmates.

But after all the years they had spent together, he knew Lance.

He knew when Lance was joking around and when he was serious. He knew when he was hiding something behind a smile, even if Keith never could figure out exactly what he was hiding.

But watching Lance, now, as the doctor checked his temperature, Keith wished he had been brave enough to be more open before this. He wished Lance hadn’t been so good at hiding his true thoughts and feelings, and that they had both tried to actually talk to each other earlier on.

 

“No one is ever going to feel exactly the same way as someone else, but I bet the gap is waaaay closer than you’ve been thinking it is,” Alvarez had said.

 

Despite the confidence it had given him at the time, he hadn’t entirely believed it, because how could Lance feel even remotely like how he felt? How could Lance possibly want him the same way he wanted Lance? How, when Lance had so much else in his life, and such a will to keep on living?

How could he settle for someone so weak and broken, who had only days ago begun to realize that his life might be something worth hanging onto?

But it was so obvious, now, that Lance was past the point of concealing what he felt, and Keith couldn’t deny it any longer: Lance cared about him. Lance cared in a way that filled his heart with both fear and longing.

He didn’t know if Lance loved him. He could never truly know until Lance actually said the words, but that didn’t matter. Because Lance cared. And knowing that made Keith less afraid to also show how much he cared. He wasn’t about to blurt out the extent of his feelings, or tell Lance how long he’d been having them, but he hadn’t ruined everything by his impulsivity and the heat of the moment.

“Everything is looking good, all things considered,” the doctor said, replacing his chart at the foot of the bed. “Your vitals are stable, and I’ve seen no signs of infection. Of course we will continue to monitor you, but I would like to get you on the galioglorocin as soon as possible.”

“The what?”

The doctor’s eyes met Keith’s briefly. “It is a pill taken orally that will put your body into a state of stasis. Basically, an induced coma, although some do not slip fully into unconsciousness for the duration of the effects.”

“It’s what they gave me after I fell, I think,” Lance’s voice was hoarse. He tried to offer Keith a smile, but there was fear returning to his eyes.

“So I would be unconscious or out of it for longer?” he asked the doctor.

She nodded. “Minimum six hours, although we have had it last up to twelve, depending on the severity of the injury. Your body handled the surgery well, but it is still a severe physical trauma, so I would expect longer in your case.”

“Before you do that,” Keith cleared his throat. “Can I speak with Lance alone?”

The doctor’s eyes narrowed, but she shrugged and put her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I would like to get you on the galioglorocin as soon as possible, but with how well you seem to be doing, I can give you an hour before it becomes necessary.” She pointed to a red button on the side of Keith’s bed. “If you begin to feel worse, or if you notice his state changing from what it is right now,” she added, glancing at Lance. “Press that button and we will come. If not, I will return in an hour.”

 

 

***

 

 

For several minutes after the doctor left the room, the only sound that existed was the soft beeping of the monitor and the faint hum of fluorescent lights.

Keith kept gaining and losing his resolve, trying to figure out how to start this conversation. Finally he sighed.

“I put myself in front of Alvarez,” Keith admitted, quiet and rough. “I wasn’t even really trying to take the shot, just get him out of the way, and it just…happened. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Lance echoed. He still stood at the foot of the bed, and Keith wished he would sit back down — to be closer, but also because he looked so exhausted.

“I’m sorry.” Keith repeated. “I don’t regret that I was the one shot instead of Alvarez, but I need you to know that I wasn’t trying to sacrifice myself.” He bit the inside of his lip for a second before glancing up at Lance. “I wasn’t trying to throw my life away, it was just an instinct because…because he is you. And I would die over and over if it meant —”

“Don’t.” There was a harshness to Lance’s voice that held all the hours he must have spent worrying by Keith’s bedside.

Keith shook his head, wincing as he shifted a little on the bed. “For so long, my life has been all about waiting for the right moment to throw myself in the way, to protect the people I care about. To save everyone, even if it meant my death. I thought it would be okay, because it’s always easier to be the one getting hurt, right?” He huffed out a laugh filled with irony. “Except it actually isn’t? Not right now. Not having to see you like this.” The emotions were rising in his throat, but he tried to push past them. “I hate this. More than anything. I never want you to feel this again. So I’m sorry.”

Keith’s voice cracked on the last sentence and he wished he could have held out just a little longer, but it did finally make Lance move. He stepped around the bed, taking a tentative seat on the mattress by Keith’s hip instead of in the chair.

“I just need you to know, I…” Keith drew in a shaky breath. “I wanted to survive. I didn’t mean — I don’t want to hurt you, Lance.”

“Hey.” Lance leaned forward, taking Keith’s hand in his own. “Okay. That’s good, Keith. We’ll start there and figure out a way to keep doing what we are doing without any self-sacrifices, yeah? Because I would definitely not like to have to feel this way again.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith repeated, quiet and helpless.

“I know that, Red.” Lance’s voice was too gentle.

 

The tears were welling up in Keith’s eyes before he could stop them.

 

“Hey. It’s okay.” Lance was shifting closer, letting go of Keith’s hand, only to raise it and run his fingers lightly through Keith’s hair, tucking it behind his ear.  

 

“I pull away from things,” Keith croaked. “Because I know they will end, and if I pull away first, then it gives me some kind of control over how I will feel when they do. Whenever things start getting serious or I start feeling…I don’t know, comfortable? All I can think of is how much it will hurt when that person eventually leaves. So I ran away. I panicked. I pulled away because what happened that night…it meant different things for us.” He rushed on before Lance could intervene. “Alvarez said our feelings were probably closer than I thought they were, but he doesn’t know how long I’ve –“

“How long you’ve what?” Lance prompted when Keith paused.

But Keith just shook his head. This wasn’t the right time for that particular talk. Not in a hospital bed. Not when it looked like Lance had barely slept in the past three days. “I’m trying to say that I don’t want to run away from this anymore, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare me. Because this…whatever this is between us, Lance…it means so much to me. So I just need to know —" Keith’s breath caught in his throat for a second. “If this is just a temporary thing for you, I can’t do it. We can be friends. We can be teammates. We can be whatever you need, but if you have any hint or idea or feeling that this is just a fling —"

Lance’s fingers slid down to tilt Keith’s chin up. “Temporary? What about any of this makes you think it’s going to be temporary?”

“Because everything always is. It always has been. Everyone I’ve lo –“ He stopped himself, shaking his head.

Lance watched him for a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Keith, I literally approached you at orientation at the Garrison.”

 “So?”

“So,” Lance pressed. “I noticed you all the way back then. And I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since. I told you what it was like without you in my life.” Lance leaned in, something desperate in his eyes. “I want you in my life. I always have. And I feel very confident when I tell you that I always will.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Except I really think I can.” Lance sounded so sure of himself. “Because while you’ve been pulling away and trying to avoid me, I’ve been meeting the people here. I met this universe’s Hunk and Pidge, and they aren’t friends. I don’t even think they know each other. Shiro isn’t part of the team. Who even knows where Allura is, and no one has even mentioned the name Coran. With alternate realities, you’d think most things would be the same, right? Or at least similar.” The surety was slipping from Lance’s voice. His hands fidgeted on his thighs as he splayed his fingers out. “But nothing is the same. Nothing –“ Lance drew in a breath, and it shuddered in his chest. “Nothing…except Alvarez and Keira. Somehow, despite everything else being so different, they found each other in the same way that we did. And I don’t…I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“Are you talking about, like…fate?”

Lance shrugged. “I don’t…I don’t know. Fate or destiny sounds kinda…bullshit? But at the same time…why was it us? We fell through time and space and whatever, and wound up in a universe where nothing is the same except for how we feel about each other.” Lance’s eyes found Keith’s, serious and fearful. “In all the possible directions and circumstances life could have taken them, Keira and Alvarez wound up together when nobody else did.” His voice was strained like he was trying to hold back tears. “You…you keep leaving, but you can’t seem to stay away, despite how much you’ve tried. You keep coming back. We keep meeting.” His voice dropped to a whisper, like he was afraid to even speak the words out loud. “I feel like…there’s something about us. Like…we’re supposed to be together. In any reality. Every reality. You and me, Red. Just us.”

“You don’t…you don’t think it’s just circumstantial?” Keith had to ask. “You don’t think if you’d been stuck here with anyone else, you —“

“Keith.” Lance’s shoulders slumped, but it looked more like concession than defeat. “These feelings I have for you? Yeah, I brought them with me through that space-thingy. They didn’t start here, they just…grew because we actually got a chance to talk.”

“Oh.” Alvarez had said their feelings were probably closer than Keith realized, but he had never imagined this. He had never imagined that Lance might have been in a similar position — reading into every word, every interaction, every look; trying to figure out if there was even the slightest chance — “I didn’t know.”

That drew a sardonic snort from Lance. “Yeah, well, I didn’t know, either. You know I don’t always pick up on stuff as quickly as everyone else. Sometimes it takes me a while to figure things out and sort through everything to make it make sense. It’s like putting a puzzle together, you know? And I fucking suck at puzzles. But once I get it, I get it. And it doesn’t mean the feelings didn’t exist, it just means I wasn’t smart enough to understand them right away.” He brought Keith’s fingers up to press against his lips for the briefest moment. “And do you know what clicked for me, Keith?”

“What?”

“I’ve never felt like this with anyone other than you.” Lance drew in a shallow breath. “It’s just so…so strong. All the time. Like someone took my emotions and turned the volume up on all of them. And not just…now. It’s been like that the whole time. No matter what I felt for you, it was always so much stronger than everything else I’ve ever felt, and I…” He faltered, his voice cracking. “It scares me because it’s…it’s so big. It’s like die for you, kill for you, end of the world type shit you know? But also big like…like I just want to watch movies on the couch with you. Like I just want to make you coffee in the morning and go to the grocery store type big. Like none of that even matters, just as long as we’re together.” Lance swiped his free hand across his nose, sniffing. “So I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out, but it doesn’t make it any less real.”

“Lance.”

Lance made a watery noise in response, but he didn’t look at Keith, and Keith wasn’t having that.

 

Sweetheart.”

 

Lance was biting his lip as his shiny eyes found Keith’s then.

 

And there it was, as plain as anything: That burning ember of hope Keith had tried to suppress — the fear and yearning and excitement that flickered alongside it.

It was written all over Lance’s face.

 

That hope flared to life, now, driving back the darkness that had lived inside Keith’s heart for so long.

 

“You should come here.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Keith whispered, not trusting his voice. “It hurts to move, and I really want to kiss you.”

It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t gentle or sweet; it wasn’t something out of a fairy tale.

 

Their kiss was rough — Lance’s lips crashing into his, tasting of the salt from both of their tears.

It was filled with pain and desperation and all the hours Lance had stayed by Keith’s bed; all the hours Keith had spent in the space between life and death.

 

It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t meant to be.

Because this wasn’t a kiss to end a movie.

 

It was a pitiful, desperate, salty kiss to begin a life.

 

 

 

 

 

END OF CHAPTER TWELVE

Notes:

I know that a lot of comments are going to be about how long it's taken for me to post this chapter.

For those who don't know, I am currently writing a novel of my own (well, currently both editing the first book and also writing the first draft of the second book in the series during NaNoWriMo). Because of this, most of my time writing has been dedicated to that project, which is why this fic will take longer for me to get out.

It's not that I don't love this story and still feel there are so many good parts I want to tell, it's just that I need something of mine that I can hopefully make a living off of in the near future. I hope you understand, and thank you for reading this!