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tiny-opal-essence · 5 years ago

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Pocket Paladin Chpt 7

Nightmares

Slight warning for mentions of violence and blood

When Lance blinked open his eyes, it took him a second to realize where he was.

Why am I on the kitchen counter? Did I fall asleep while Hunk was cooking?

He stood up and stretched to try to get rid of the soreness from sleeping on the cold hard surface. Looking around at the various cooking tools on the counter, Lance noticed something was a bit off.

Did these get bigger? Or…Oh no! I got smaller!

He wasn’t microscopic, but still a bit smaller than before. Maybe only an inch or so tall, which may not seem like much of a difference, but that was 1/3 of his previous height. He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear his thoughts. When he opened them again, he realized he wasn’t the only one in the room.

His friends were all seated at the table next to the counter, but none of them were looking his way.

“Hey!” He called out to them, but they didn’t seem to hear him.

“Do you ever wonder what happened to Lance?” Hunk asked.

“I’m over here!” He started jumping and waving his hands in the air, but the others continued their conversation without him.

“No, why would I?” Pidge answered before cruelly laughing with Hunk.

“We’re lucky that he was the one hit by the spell,” Keith said.

“Yeah, can you imagine if it had hit you? Then we would have been down one of our best fighters. With Lance gone, we actually became stronger.” Shiro stated.

“He always was the weak link on the team,” Pidge added on.

“And he was completely useless as a paladin. I still wonder why Blue ever chose him.” Allura commented.

“You should have been the blue paladin from the get-go, Allura. You’re miles better than Lance could have ever dreamed of being.” Hunk responded.

Lance stopped jumping in the air as what the others were saying sunk in.

Is this what they really think of me?

“It’s too bad we didn’t think of bringing him to a swap moon. We could have gotten quite the pretty penny for him there.” Coran said.

Keith suddenly looked over towards Lance. The look in his yellow eyes terrified Lance. That combined with his ears being down and to the side made him look like a jungle cat stalking its prey.

“Well. Well, well. What do we have here? A bug? Oh no, it’s Lance.” Keith stood up and headed towards Lance.

“What’s the difference? He’s always been a pest.” Pidge responded.

“You’re right, Pidge. He is a pest. He’s always bugging us. And do you know what we do with bugs?” Keith started reaching over Lance.

Lance tried to move, but it was like his feet were frozen to the counter. All he could do was shake his arms and look up to see Keith’s palm hovering over him.

“We squish them.” Keith’s palm began racing down towards Lance.

“No!” Lance screamed as he shielded his face with his arms, knowing it would do nothing to save him from his fate.

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“No!” Lance screamed as he pushed away the hand that was shaking him. He threw off his makeshift blanket and crawled back on the nightstand, his heart pounding.

Wait…blanket…nightstand.

His breathing was heavy as he looked around the room. He saw the Kleenex and cotton balls that had been serving as his bed on the nightstand. The hand that had been shaking him was still hovering where he had pushed it away. His gaze followed it and saw that it was attached to Keith, who was looking down at him with a worried expression on his face.

That’s right. I’m rooming with Keith. It was just a dream. Just a dream. But it felt so real.

“Are you ok?” Keith asked as he fully sat up in his bed.

“Yeah.” Lance’s voice was shaky. “Just a nightmare.”

“You too?”

“Wait, you had a nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“But you’re Keith. You’re not scared of anything. You always want to rush into a fight. What could you possibly be afraid of?”

“You’d be surprised.”

Keith’s tone let Lance know that this was not the time to press for more details.

“How do you deal with the fear?” Lance asked.

“Sedate it with chocolate.” Keith deadpanned.

“Seriously? Not some intense training or punching something?” Lance threw a fake punch with a teasing smile on his face.

“My dad told me that hot chocolate chases the bad thoughts away.”

“That’s sweet. You don’t talk about him much.”

“What’s there to say? He died when I was pretty young.”

“Yeah, but he’s still your dad.”

“I’m going to get some hot chocolate.” Keith changed the subject and stood up. “Do you want to come with?”

“Yeah, though I don’t think I have much of a choice. ‘Someone must always be with Lance’ and all.” Lance couldn’t help but flinch when Keith put his hand down in front of him. The details of his dream were still fresh in his mind. “Is there any way that I can go with you without being carried?”

“Sure. Ummm. My pj’s don’t have pockets…I could grab my jacket and put you in one?” Keith sounded unsure as he ran a hand through his hair.

Lance shook his head.

“I don’t want to be in a small space right now.”

“Ummm. How about on my shoulder? The space mice like riding around on Allura’s.”

“That could work.”

“I’m still going to have to pick you up if that’s ok.”

“Yeah, I know. Just need a second.” Lance let out a breath and hesitatingly stepped onto Keith’s palm and sat down. His pulse felt stronger than before, likely due to Keith not wearing his signature fingerless gloves for once. His skin was softer than Lance expected it to be.

I guess the gloves do do something after all.

Keith lifted him up much slower than before. Lance wondered if that could be related to Keith’s nightmare at all. Or maybe he was just tired cause it was the middle of the night. Either way, Lance was thankful as he awkwardly crawled onto Keith’s shoulder.

“You good?” Keith turned his head to the side so he could see Lance.

“Yeah.” Lance got himself situated. When Keith took his first step, Lance fell over sideways but managed to grab the collar of his pj’s. Keith quickly put a hand under him and helped him back up.

“Quiznak. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I think I just need a handle or something to hold onto. I’m not really used to this.”

“No kidding. What could you hold onto?” Keith thought out loud.

“I could hold onto your stupid mullet.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Well, do you have any better ideas?”

“…Fine, just don’t pull too hard.”

“Like this?” Lance grabbed a section of Keith’s hair and pulled. The shoulder below him jerked up. If he hadn’t had such a tight grip of the section, Lance would have been flung right off.

“Yeah, like that.” Keith grit out. He turned his head to glare at Lance, but couldn’t see him because of how close he was standing to his neck. He could still feel his weight, little as it was.

“Sorry. Didn’t think you’d react that much.” Lance sat by his neck, making sure to have a good grip on the hair without pulling on it.

“Just be careful. If something happened to you, I don’t know wh…I think Hunk would kill me.” Keith wanted to say that he didn’t know what he would do, but he didn’t know if Lance would appreciate that or not.

“He’d probably find a way to kill you with kindness.” Lance laughed slightly.

Is he more worried about Hunk hurting him than me getting hurt?

“Probably.” Keith laughed softly which caused his shoulders to shake. There was the slightest of pulls on Keith’s hair that let him know that Lance was still on board. He took one step, then another.

Lance held on and even scooted closer to be leaning against Keith’s neck.

Maybe Pidge was right about that body heat stuff. It feels like I’m right next to a radiator.

He welcomed the warmth as they made their way through the castle ship.

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The lights were on in the kitchen when they arrived. Hunk was stirring something in a pot while Pidge was sitting, staring down at the table with slightly puffy eyes.

“Hey, Keith. Where’s Lance?” Hunk saw that Keith’s hands were empty.

“Right here!” Lance said with a wave while Keith pointed to him on his shoulder.

“Oh. Smart way to carry him around. Keeps your hands free.” Pidge commented.

“Plus, it’s nice to be closer to eye height with you guys. Then I don’t have to look up so much.”

“But what if you fall off?” Hunk asked.

“That’s why I’m holding onto his hair,” Lance responded.

“You’re actually willing to touch his mullet? After what you said about it?” Pidge said incredulously.

“What did you say about it?” Keith turned his head towards Lance.

“Hey, it’s better than falling to my death,” Lance remarked.

The others were silent as they remembered how dangerous this situation was for Lance.

“So, what brings you two here in the middle of the night?” Hunk asked.

“Bad dreams,” Keith responded.

“Join the club,” Pidge stated. “Hunk’s making hot chocolate if you want some.”

“That sounds great,” Lance said.

Keith walked over to the table and helped Lance get down before taking a seat himself.

“I have a feeling the others will be joining us shortly. No offense meant, Lance” Hunk apologized for his unintended pun.

“None taken,” Lance responded.

“What makes you say that?” Keith asked.

“Call it mom-friend’s intuition.”

Sure enough, not even two minutes later Shiro and Allura both came in.

“Let me guess, bad dreams?” Hunk said as he poured the hot chocolate into cups on one of the floating trays.

“How did you-” Allura had a dumbfounded look on her face as she and Shiro sat down at the table.

“Like I said, mom-friend’s intuition.” Hunk turned off the stove and walked next to the tray as it floated to the table. One of the ‘cups’ on it was the cap to something in the kitchen. Lance figured that must be his cup, though it seemed more like a bucket from his perspective.

The tray landed in the middle of the table and everyone grabbed a cup. Keith grabbed Lance’s and brought it to him.

“Thanks,” Lance stated.

I could have grabbed that myself.

‘But you didn’t’

“I’m sorry there aren’t any cups in your size, Lance.” Hunk said.

“That’s alright. That just means I get more hot chocolate per glass.” Lance awkwardly drank from his ‘cup.’

The silence was only broken by the occasional *slurp* before Hunk cleared his throat.

“You know, with nightmares, it’s sometimes a good idea to talk about them. It can make them easier to deal with. Does anyone want to do that?” Hunk asked.

Everyone looked at each other, unsure if they were willing to talk about their dreams.

“I’ll go first, and if I’m the only one that talks, that’s ok. Please don’t feel like you have to tell us. Only if you’re comfortable talking about it.”

The others nodded before Hunk took a deep breath.

“Okay. My dream started out like a good dream. I was baking a cherry pie, or what it raspberry? No, it was cherry, though that’s not important. I was making it from scratch, just like my mom taught me. There was flour all over the counter. Probably all over my face too, but I didn’t mind. I was humming some tune or other and putting all of the cherries in the crust. You should have seen how juicy these cherries were. They were so shiny. Again, not important. I kept on humming and pouring cherry after cherry into the crust. I don’t know how it was able to hold so many. The top crust wasn’t really anything special, it had a few vents to let the steam out, but nothing too fancy. The oven was already warmed up, so I put the pie in and set the timer for 45 minutes. I started cleaning up the mess on the counter when I noticed something. There were tiny footprints in the flour leading right up to where the pie had been. That’s when I heard it.”

“Heard what?” Lance asked.

“You. Screaming in agony. I looked around and didn’t see you anywhere. Then, I looked at the oven. The light had been turned on in it and somehow the temperature had been raised. That was where the screaming was coming from. Somehow, you had wound up in the pie. I ran over and tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. It was like it was sealed shut. The temperature kept going up and up while I struggled with the door. I even tried breaking the glass, but nothing worked. The pie started to boil, and some of the filling spurted out one of the vents. It looked just like blood. Your blood. And the screaming kept getting louder and louder until it cut off. That’s when the oven door opened. I didn’t even get the oven mitts, I grabbed the pie and started tearing it apart to see if maybe somehow you were still…” Hunk’s eyes began to tear up. “My hands felt like they were on fire, but I kept looking. Finally, I found you, but it was too late. Your body had been burnt to a crisp. It turned to ashes in my hands. I had baked my best friend in a pie.” Hunk buried his face in his hands as tears started to run down it.

Lance walked towards Hunk and comfortingly placed a hand on his arm. Hunk moved his hands away from his face and brushed away his tears.

“It’s ok, Hunk. It was just a dream.” Lance reassured him. “You don’t have to worry about that happening. You would never do that, and besides, I’m a pretty loud person. If something like that did happen, you’d hear me a lot sooner.”

“But you are quieter than usual with what happened.” Hunk said.

“It’s a miracle we can hear you at all,” Pidge added on. “Your voice should be so high pitched that the human ear can’t perceive it. Keith could probably still hear you if that were the case, but this whole situation goes against basic logic.”

“So you keep saying,” Lance said.

“Phew. I’m glad to get that dream off my chest.” Hunk looked around at the others. “Does anyone else want to talk?”

“I’ll go,” Pidge responded. “Like in Hunk’s, mine started out with me doing something I enjoy. I was tinkering with a machine and Lance was helping me get to some of the hard to reach places. We finished the machine and I tested it out on a wrench. A beam shot out and the wrench was suddenly giant-sized. I had figured out a way to reverse the polarity matrix. I aimed it at a screwdriver, just to make sure the first test hadn’t been a fluke, and it wasn’t. We had found a solution to Lance’s problem, or so we thought. I aimed it at him and the ray hit its mark, but nothing happened. I checked every part of the machine, but it was still working. When I looked back at you, your body suddenly started shaking before you curled up in pain. I started running some quick tests and realized what was happening. Somehow, instead of growing you back to normal, the machine had destabilized you on an atomic level, causing your cells to start exploding. I figured out that you only had a few hours before it would kill you. I tried to find a way to reverse or just stop it. I even used a biochemical treatment to target your pituitary gland and flood it with growth hormones, but all that did was speed up the process. You kept saying that it wasn’t my fault, but how could it not have been? All I could do was try to make you as comfortable as possible while your body destroyed itself. You were in so much pain, but you were still able to say one last thing before…You told me that when we got back to Earth, to tell your family that you loved them. And then you died, all because I didn’t think to test the machine on organic matter before using it on you.”

“Well…now you know for next time,” Lance said.

“But I should have known better in the dream.” Pidge took an angry sip of hot chocolate. “I should have checked the molecular structure of everything that was tested. Maybe there were signs in the structure of the wrench or screwdriver that could have told me to wait before testing it on you.”

“I’ll go next.” Allura put down her cup. “In mine, I somehow knew that I had been working on getting stronger with my magic. I felt I was strong enough in the dream to undo the spell with no consequences. What a fool I was. I channeled the magic and used it on one of the gladiator bots. I was able to change its height with ease. It felt like I was ready. I found you and attempted to do the same. I was able to connect to the quintessence within you and try to alter it so that you would return to normal, but the push and pull of the waves of it made it difficult. Quintessence is normally like a pond in living things. It is relatively calm on the surface, with only the slightest shift of waves and currents below. But with Lotor’s spell, yours was suddenly a raging ocean, and the waves were more than I could handle. I tried to fight against the tides of his magic and was able to make some headway, but you suddenly cried out. I saw that your body had regained some of its height. You told me to keep going, so I pressed on. It suddenly felt as if there was a tsunami of quintessence getting ready to crash. I was unprepared when it did. It overwhelmed me and my magic could do nothing against it. When I opened my eyes, I saw that you were back to your normal height. I tried to shake you awake, but as soon as I touched you, I knew you were gone. I had pushed too far and you paid the price for it.”

Shiro reached over and grabbed Allura’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She squeezed his back.

“Thank you, Shiro.”

“I felt powerless in my nightmare as well.” Shiro began to describe what happened in his. “Sendak had taken over the castle ship again. We were all in handcuffs in the bridge except for Lance. They hadn’t been able to find you. Haxxus was making threats over the comms thinking that would get you to come out. Everyone else was being knocked unconscious one by one while they waited for you to reveal yourself. They were about to knock out Keith when I saw you out of the corner of my eye. As Keith fell unconscious, you were able to sneak up behind me and started working to undo the cuffs with your bayard. I tried to talk loud enough to hide the sound of it cutting the metal, but the Galra have excellent hearing. Sendak came over to see what was happening. I tried to shield you so he wouldn’t find you, but he shoved me away like I weighed nothing. I threw myself at him, but the chain would only let me go so far. Sendak was holding you in his prosthetic fist just out of reach. I struggled against the cuffs, but they wouldn’t break, even with your help earlier. It was obvious that he was holding you too tight as he explained how Voltron had failed. How I would get to watch every single one of you die, all because of me. Starting with you.” Shiro held up his prosthetic fist and slowly closed his fist. “His grip on you grew tighter and tighter until…” Shiro quickly closed his fist, unable to put what had happened into words. “And I was powerless to stop him.”

Lance *gulped* as his mind painted a picture of the events.

“But Sendak’s dead, right? You launched him into space.” Hunk said.

“He was in a pod, so he actually would have survived for at least a movement,” Allura explained.

“So it’s possible that he was picked up by another Galra ship?” Pidge asked.

“Yes, it is entirely possible. Highly unlikely given how far we were from Galra territory at the time, but possible.” Allura responded.

“Would there be any way to track the pod to see what happened?” Keith suggested.

“No. Those pods are not equipped with trackers.”

“Great. He could still be alive and we’d be none the wiser.” Lance exclaimed. “I feel safer already!”

“I won’t let him hurt any of you. I let you guys down when he attacked before. That’s not going to happen again.” Shiro stated.

“You didn’t let us down, Shiro,” Keith responded.

“Yeah, if it weren’t for you, Sendak would have done a lot more damage,” Hunk added on.

“You stopped him from hurting me,” Pidge said.

“I still feel I should have been more vigilant. If it weren’t for Lance’s eagle eye, we would have lost Coran when fake Rover blew up the crystal.”

But he’s not worried about the fact that I could have died as well?

“Ooo! Can eagle eye be my nickname?” Lance asked.

“I think your ego is big enough already,” Keith responded.

“It is amazing how large your ego is, even if you’re not,” Pidge said.

Ok, that hurts. I don’t have that big of an ego, do I?

‘What do you think? Why else would they hate you so much?’

They don’t hate me, they just…

‘They just what?’

“Do either of you two want to talk about your dreams? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Hunk steered the conversation back to the main topic.

Keith saw that Lance was struggling with what to say first, so he decided to go to take the pressure off of him.

“In my dream, I was in one of the hallways on the castle ship. I couldn’t see where it ended. There were doors on both sides. I opened them one by one as I looked for Lance, but I didn’t find anything behind them. There was a *squeaking* sound when I walked, like when your shoes are wet. I figured I must have stepped in a puddle or something. I kept walking down the hallway and opening door after door, but there was still nothing behind them. I started moving faster, hoping that I would find you behind one of the doors, *squeaking* with every other step. Finally, I reached the end of the hallway, but there was nothing there but a dirty mirror. I brushed some of the dirt off and saw my face reflected back at me with yellow eyes. There were some red splotches on the mirror. I tried to rub them off, but as I rubbed away the dirt, they only became clearer. Curious about what they were, I turned around. Leading all the way down the hallway to where I was standing were red footprints, but only the right foot. I crouched down to see if it was red paint I had stepped in, but the smell from it revealed that it was blood. I angled my foot to see what I had stepped on, hoping I was wrong, but I knew what I would find. It was mostly a red smear, but there were still enough details to identify it as you, Lance. I felt like I was going to throw up.”

Keith didn’t think it was important to mention how panicked he was when he woke up, or how relieved he was to see that Lance was ok. Well, ok except for the fact he had been having a nightmare as well.

Lance was thinking back to the earlier close call.

If he had stepped on me, how long would it have taken him to realize? Would he have thought that I had gotten microscopic on the bed? Would the others have been told what happened and looked for me only to realize what had happened hours before? Would they have even cared? Why am I even thinking about this?

“That’s horrible.” Hunk said.

“But that’s not going to happen, cause Lance isn’t going to be on the floor at all.” Pidge reminded the others of the rules they had created the day before.

“That doesn’t mean we aren’t going to be worried about something happening to him,” Shiro commented. “This is a…unique situation that none of us are fully equipped to handle.”

“But we will be there for those times that something does go wrong to make sure he’s alright,” Allura assured. “We will make sure nothing happens to him.”

Do they have to keep talking like I’m not even here?

“Did you want to talk about your dream, Lance?” Hunk asked.

“Well, seeing as everyone else did, I don’t want to be the odd one out.”

“Don’t feel pressured.”

“Hey, like you said, it’s good to talk about them.”

How can I talk about this without making them feel bad? I know they would never do what they did in the dream, but I don’t want them to think that I think they would say that.

“In mine, I was smaller. Maybe only an inch or so tall. I was standing on the kitchen counter and you guys were sitting at the table. You were wondering what had happened to me. I called out, but you didn’t hear me. I started jumping and waving my arms in the air and Keith noticed. Thinking I had been found, I stopped. But, you thought I was a bug. And what do you do with bugs? You squish them. I couldn’t move my legs while your hand hovered over me. All I could do was shield my face with my arms as your palm came down.”

“Is that why you were so panicked when you woke up?” Keith asked.

“When I woke up and your hand was right there, it felt like I was still in the dream.”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to shake you awake. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s ok.” Lance interrupted. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just my stupid subconsciousness.”

“You know none of us would do that, right Lance?” Hunk asked.

“I know. It’s kind of hard not to worry about things with me being this small.”

“You shouldn’t have to be like this for too long. I’ve found some books in the library that may help in learning about fluctuating quintessence.”

“That’s great, Allura,” Shiro commented.

“Does anyone need more hot chocolate?”

“I’m good, Hunk. *yawn* I’m going back to bed. It was nice talking about this with you guys.”

“Night, Pidge,” Lance said.

Everyone else had the same idea and left the room.

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As they went back to his room, Keith was thinking about Lance’s dream. He wondered why he was the only one in the dream to hurt Lance. Did that mean that Lance didn’t like him? Was Lance afraid of him? It wouldn’t be surprising, given that he had almost killed him. He was distracted from his thoughts by Lance on his shoulder.

“Before we go back, can you grab something from my room?”

“Sure.”

Lance felt the muscles in Keith’s neck move when he responded.

This feels so weird.

The door to Lance’s room opened. His bed hadn’t been made and there was a small amount of clutter around the room. It was exactly the way he had left it.

Home sweet home.

“So what did you want me to grab?” Keith looked around the room.

“My jacket.” Lance pointed it out on the bed.

“I think it’s a bit big for you right now.”

“It’s always been a bit big on me. Besides, I’m not going to wear it. I’m going to sleep in it.”

“But you already have a place to sleep.”

“No offense meant, Keith, but cotton balls and Kleenex do not the most comfortable bed make.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do? It’s not like we have a tiny bed you can use.” Keith felt a slight tug on his hair as he bent down to grab the jacket. “Sorry.” Keith apologized as he stood up straight.

“It’s ok. I think I’m getting used to this.” Lance said as he readjusted himself on Keith’s shoulder.

Keith walked back to his room, jacket in hand. He brushed the cotton balls and Kleenex to the edge of the nightstand.

“I’m just going to put it here.”

“Be careful.”

“Lance, it’s just a jacket.”

“No, it’s not!”

Keith winced slightly from Lance shouting right by his ear.

“It’s from my family. My parents bought it for my brother Luis and it’s been passed down through all of us Fuentes siblings. It reminds me of them. Plus I have a family picture in the right pocket that I don’t want to get damaged.”

“Ok. I’ll be careful.” Keith found the picture in the pocket and leaned it against the wall. He gently placed the jacket on the nightstand. “Is that ok?”

“Yeah, that works.”

“Which one of them is Luis?” Keith looked at Lance’s photo as he helped Lance down from his shoulder.

“Luis is the tall one on the left. We don’t know how he’s so much taller than the rest of us. That’s why the jacket’s so big.” Lance walked over to the photo. “Standing left of him is Veronica. She also went to the garrison. Then there’s mis abuelos. Next to them is Lisa, Luis’ wife. Those two little rascals are their kids, Sylvio and Nadia.” Lance turned back towards Keith. “I’m their favorite uncle, cause I’m the fun one.” He turned back to the picture. “Those are my parents. And those are my other siblings Rachel and Marco.”

“That’s a big family.”

“Yeah, probably part of the reason I’m so loud. When all of us get together, you have to shout to be heard.” Lance got a somber look on his face. “They sent it to me so they could always be with me while I was at the garrison. It’s the last picture of my abuelo before he died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I guess that’s something we have in common. We’ve both lost people we care about. Do you have any pictures of your family?”

“No.”

“Oh. I guess there wasn’t time to grab them before Blue brought us out here.”

“…Yeah.” Keith didn’t want to explain to Lance why he didn’t have any photos of his family anymore. It was better to just let him believe they were left behind in the shack instead of destroyed. He got under the covers and closed his eyes.

Lance climbed onto his jacket. One of the pockets had wound up on top of the pile. He figured that could work as a sleeping bag with his new height. It was much more comfortable than the cotton balls had been. With the jacket, he couldn’t feel the hard top of the nightstand beneath him. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed him once more.

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Realities without a Lance: 54 (+12 from last chapter)

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#pocket paladin #voltron #klance #g/t klance #g/t #g/t writing #keith #lance #shrunk #shrinking #giant/tiny

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starlight-matrix · 5 years ago

Text

Cold

@vldangstbang Behold, my 2019 Voltron: Legendary Defender Angst Bang fic!

Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Violence, Major Character Death

There is a scene toward the end of the fic that may be very triggering for some audiences, so please be very careful! There is a marker labeled “First Ending” and if you might be triggered by some extreme violence, please just stop there. I’ll put an explanation of the scene at the very end of the post for anyone who is curious and wants to know without reading the actual content. Stay safe!

The first time Lance meets Keith, he gets punched in the face.

It’s his own fault, really. Everyone knows not to approach Keith Kogane when he’s pissed off. Lance decides to approach Keith when he’s in the middle of a fight, which is, in hindsight, a fucking stupid decision. Some time after the fact, however, he finds he doesn’t regret it.

The first time Lance meets Keith, he gets punched in the face.

(Some time after the fact, however, he finds he doesn’t regret it.)

He makes the dumbass decision halfway through the second semester of eighth grade, when he really should be in the library studying for final exams instead of in the school courtyard, flirting with Nyma Johnson while Pidge and Hunk laugh at him from a bench ten feet away. It’s blessedly beautiful out, just enough clouds for it to not be sweltering, but still few enough for the sun to shine down and brighten up the grey of the school.

Lance is in the middle of a slowly ebbing conversation when a sudden ruckus from the other end of the courtyard catches his attention. Loud shouting and sounds of a scuffle are audible in the distance and Lance excuses himself to see what the fuss is about. By the time he reaches the source of the noise, a crowd has gathered, students cheering on two teens pushing and shoving at each other like fighters in the center of a ring.

Lance immediately recognizes one of them as Keith Kogane. How could he not, when the guy’s practically the school prodigy? It takes him another few moments to recognize the smaller kid as a sixth grader who rides his bus and is generally quite obnoxious.

And, of course, Lance’s first instinct is to attempt to dispel the fight. On his own. A fight between Keith Kogane and someone who very obviously does not regret pissing him off.

As previously said: a fucking stupid decision.

“Hey, guys, I know you’re both mad but if Iverson catches you fighting you’ll probably get in-”

Before Lance can finish his sentence, Keith’s violet gaze is turned on him, and pain blossoms in his cheek as he gets caught up in a fight he really shouldn’t have had anything to do with. Hunk and Pidge are shouting in the distance as Lance stumbles backward from the force of the hit, his mouth tasting of iron and aching terribly when he lifts his hand to the swollen area. He glances at Keith and immediately wishes he hadn’t. The guy looks absolutely livid.

More shouting ensues and Lance tunes it all out, returning to Hunk and Pidge and letting his two friends fuss over him. The crowd suddenly disperses and Iverson’s voice cuts through the chaos in the courtyard screaming ‘Kogane’ at the top of his lungs. Lance looks past Hunk inspecting his cheek to see Iverson grabbing Keith by the arm, shouting at him about the school rules and how many infractions he already has.

Iverson stops his lecture to drag Keith back into the building, and for a split second, Keith’s gaze meets Lance’s once again. This time, Keith almost looks apologetic.

News of Keith’s expulsion is the first thing he hears at school the next morning, and Lance doesn’t see Keith again, nor does he expect to. Rumors about the raven-haired prodigy spread and quickly fade away. People stop talking about him as if they’re both terrified and vaguely awed by him. Keith disappears from everyone’s list of conversation starters, and Lance can’t help but wonder if there was anyone in their school who actually knew him beyond his reputation.

Lance is undeniably excited for his first day of high school. He has his favorite sandwich tucked away in his bag, he’s wearing his favorite outfit, he’s sitting on the bus next to his favorite friend. Lance doesn’t think the start of his day could possibly get any better.

He also doesn’t think the start of his day could get any worse, which is a mistake on his part.

The first thing Lance notices as he’s stepping off the bus is Keith’s form in the parking lot, next to a bright red bmx bike with chipped paint and a fraying seat. His hair is longer, though not by much, and Lance grudgingly admits that the mullet doesn’t look terrible on him. Keith is taller too - again, not by much - and Lance offhandedly wonders if anything else about him has changed.

(The angry curse Keith spits out when someone bumps into him doesn’t encourage that particular train of thought.)

“Lance? What’re you glaring at?” Hunk asks.

“Keith Kogane.” Lance replies, the distaste spilling out before he can pretend it’s not there.

Hunk follows his line of sight and quirks his brow. “Isn’t that the guy who punched you last year?” He says dismissively. Lance shoots him an incredulous look. “Hey, man, you got in the middle of that fight all on your own, even though you knew his reputation. That hit was just a side effect.”

“I kept biting my cheek for a week because it was all swollen!”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should learn not to butt into people’s business.”

“Says you, Mister I’m-Going-To-Pry-Into-Your-Love-Life-Until-I-Ruin-Your-Chances-At-Romance!”

“Again, totally your fault,” Hunk counters matter-of-factly. “You’re the one who blatantly insulted Rolo in front of Nyma when he just so happened to be her best friend.”

Lance frowns and crosses his arms over his chest indignantly, knowing Hunk is right. Of course Hunk is right. Hunk is always right. “Yeah, well, you’re not the one who got punched in the face for trying to keep a sixth grader from getting pummeled. Or who got slapped by the girl you like.”

Following Hunk through the front doors of the school, Lance watches Keith fade into the crowd of students and instead turns his attention toward a familiar length of blonde hair. Nyma is standing only ten or so feet away, right next to Rolo, smiling her perfect smile and laughing her perfect laugh. Lance pointedly doesn’t acknowledge their linked hands, or the way Rolo leans over to kiss Nyma on the cheek. Hunk makes a noise of understanding and leads him further down the hall.

Pidge is leaning against a pillar where the hall opens up into the cafeteria, scrolling through her phone and glaring down at whatever she’s looking at. When Lance and Hunk call out to her, she tucks her phone into her pocket and waves back with a half-smile, grey bags under her eyes.

“God Pidge, did you even sleep last night? You look like hell.” Lance says.

Pidge frowns. “Gee, thanks Mr. Casanova. You sure know how to make a girl feel beautiful,” She deadpans, shoving Lance with her shoulder. “And no, I didn’t. I was up late playing Overwatch with Matt.”

The three of them maneuver through the hall and plop down at an empty table in the cafeteria to compare their schedules, chatting about Overwatch and Pidge’s brother, Matt. Lance and Pidge both silently mourn the fact they don’t have any classes together. He and Hunk have three of the same classes though, which is a good thing. They continue their conversation about video games until Pidge brings up a sore (not really) subject.

“Hey, did you guys know Keith goes here too? I saw him walk by right before you guys showed up.”

Lance groans in loathing, and Hunk answers for him. “Yeah, we saw him when we got off the bus. Lance isn’t too happy about it, but it’s not like we have to hang out with him or anything.”

“But he goes here! Which means we could end up in the same classes!” Lance complains. “If I have to relive the trauma of being punched in the face by him every day, I’ll be miserable!”

“Stop being so dramatic, you big pissbaby. It’s your fault he hit you anyway, you’re the one who butted into his fight.” Pidge points out.

“I have the worst friends! Neither of you are supporting my perspective on this!”

“That’s because your perspective is flawed.”

Lance shoots Pidge and Hunk equal looks of ‘I-Can’t-Believe-I-Trusted-You’ and they both firmly ignore him. Before he can make a bigger show of pouting, the bell rings overhead, and the three of them are standing to find their respective classes. Pidge grumbles incoherently as she heads off to the gym and Lance wishes her the best of luck, hoping and praying none of the staff will give her any trouble concerning the locker rooms. He and Hunk split ways in the hall between the science and mathematics buildings, Lance not quite appreciating the fact that he has maths class first thing in the morning. Can’t be worse than having P.E. first, though, he thinks.

His immediate thought when he walks through the door of his new maths class is “Oh God, it actually can be worse,” because there in the middle row, looking ridiculously content sitting in a maths classroom, is Keith Kogane, eyes distant as he stares at the whiteboard at the front of the room. Lance notes that he has earbuds in, and silently hopes Keith gets busted by the teacher. Moving to take a seat as far away from Keith as possible, Lance looks up at the whiteboard and scowls at the sloppily-drawn seating chart in one corner.

His morning only seems to get worse when Lance walks up to the seating chart and realizes he has to sit right next to Keith. Apparently there isn’t anyone with an “L” surname in this class.

Glaring at the whiteboard for far longer than is strictly necessary, Lance turns and maneuvers through the rows of desks and drops his bag onto the one to Keith’s right with a loud thump that makes the raven-haired boy jump, much to Lance’s amusement. Keith shoots him a glare and folds his arms over the table, resting his head on them with a sigh. Lance’s victory smirk melts to a frown. Did Keith not remember him? There wasn’t even a hint of recognition in that glare; what if Keith simply didn’t know him? Lance huffs and sits down, admittedly disappointed.

A couple minutes later, the second bell rings to announce the end of the passing period, and the teacher stands from her desk to introduce herself. Lance turns to see if Keith is paying attention (he’s wearing earbuds, so clearly he’s the type who doesn’t care about class, Lance thinks) and realizes that his earbuds aren’t actually earbuds; they’re simply aux cords plugged into hearing aids in both of Keith’s ears.

Lance wonders how he never previously noticed Keith wore hearing aids.

He also wonders how the whole ‘aux cord turns hearing aids into earbuds’ thing works, but that question is dissipated by Keith catching him staring and raising an eyebrow. Lance quickly looks away and focuses his gaze on the teacher, who starts to explain the class rubric. Lance can feel Keith’s eyes on him for another few seconds, but he doesn’t look back, and when he glances at Keith again in the middle of class, he’s dutifully taking notes as if nothing had happened.

Lance tunes out most of first period, simply due to the fact that the teacher handed out a syllabus at the start of class that specifies everything she’s saying to them in perfect detail, word for word, so it’s pretty redundant to listen to her say it all over again. Lance finds himself watching Keith out of the corner of his eye. As soon as the teacher had started talking nearly half an hour ago, he’d produced a couple of barrettes from nowhere and pinned his hair back so it wouldn’t fall in front of his hearing aids, and Lance can’t stop his brain from telling him it’s cute.

The entire time the teacher drones on about classroom etiquette, Keith is jotting down everything she says in his notebook, writing so fast Lance can hear his pencil scraping over the page, and a subtle glance at Keith’s notebook tells him it’s likely that Keith is the only person who will ever be able to actually read his notes. It’s weird for Lance to see Keith so focused and peaceful - the only emotion he’s ever seen on the guy is anger; intense, furious anger.

But here, in a maths class of all places, Keith looks strangely calm. There’s no hint of frustration in his face and his eyes only ever leave the front of the room when he’s pausing to take notes.

The bell is ringing before Lance even notices the time flying by, and he quickly looks away from Keith in an attempt to keep his absent staring a secret. He listens to Keith shuffle about beside him as they both put away their things, and when Lance looks up again, Keith is across the room and walking out the door. Lance waits a good long moment before following, meeting Hunk in the hallway outside and making no mention of Keith as he’s swept up in conversation.

He doesn’t see Keith again that day. When Lance gets home that night and his mother asks how his first day of high school was, his response is: “It was a very enlightening experience.”

Lance continues to silently observe Keith throughout first period maths. He doesn’t get to do so as fervently as he had the first day of school, since after the introductions of the first day, they’re immediately thrown into actual classwork and assignments. Lance doesn’t enjoy maths - he doesn’t hate it, of course; he understands the practical nature of everything and doesn’t have enough of an issue with the content to really dislike it at all - but he finds himself actually looking forward to it every day, simply because of all the things he notices about Keith.

He learns that all of Keith’s notebooks are space-themed, with planets and nebulas on the fronts of each one. He learns that Keith’s favorite pencil is a red mechanical one with rubber grips; he once watched Keith miss a good two minutes of the lecture in favor of rooting through his bag in search of said pencil when there were two other, perfectly usable pencils already on his desk. He learns that Keith takes his hearing aids out when the class gets too loud during work time.

Lance watches Keith out of the corner of his eye whenever the teacher pauses her chatter, and Keith never catches him staring, always absorbed in the lecture with tunnel-vision focus Lance is somewhat jealous of. The constant observation causes him to have a little more homework to do after school, but he can’t bring himself to break the habit. He’s too curious about Keith, about how this ragged teen who once showed such livid anger manages to look so soft.

A month has passed since the start of high school when Lance speaks to Keith for the first time.

He’s walking out of his American History classroom during lunch, having forgotten his jacket on the back of his chair earlier in the day and gone back to fetch it. The classroom is in a short hall that is almost impossible to find without some kind of help unless you’ve been there before, and Lance’s heart jumps into his throat when he trips over a pair of legs sticking out from next to a trash can in the walkway. He catches himself and turns to find Keith sitting on the floor up against the ugly brown brick wall, knees now pulled to his chest as he stares back at Lance.

“Keith?!” Lance says, visibly surprised. Keith’s brow furrows. “What are you doing here?!”

“Um...eating lunch?” Keith deadpans, gesturing to the sandwich in his hands.

“Yeah, but why are you eating lunch way out here? Wouldn’t it be better to eat in the cafeteria? This hallway isn’t even indoors, you’ve gotta be freezing your ass off.”

Keith simply shrugs. “Cafeteria’s too crowded. And noisy..”

Lance nods in understanding, even though he can’t really relate to Keith’s point. He’s always felt a little at home in chaos - it’s simply a side effect of growing up in a busy household.

“You sit next to me in maths, right?” Keith asks. Lance nods. “And you’re the kid I punched last year too, aren’t you?”

Lance is shocked to hear him say that, and it must show on his face, because Keith shrinks a little smaller and turns his violet eyes to the floor, and Lance can’t help but notice the pink flush that reaches up to the tips of his ears.

“I’m sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t mean to hit you, especially not as hard as I did. I thought you were one of that kid’s friends, joining the fight to back him up. I acted on reflex.”

“Oh.” Is all Lance can say, and after a few seconds of silence, he pulls his jacket on against the cold and takes a seat on the cement next to Keith, far enough away so they aren't touching but close enough that he won’t have to talk too loud to be heard.

“Why were you fighting him, anyway? He was a sixth grader, what did he do to piss you off so bad?” He asks.

Keith looks up at him and then away, as if pondering his answer. “...he stole something that was really important to me. And then threatened to give it to the Principal and get me expelled.”

“Whoa...wait, what the heck did you have that could get you expelled??”

Again, Keith hesitates, and Lance finds a pair of violet eyes on him once again, studying him, as if Keith is trying to gauge whether or not he can trust Lance with whatever the answer is. Lance can’t blame him for it. After the fight last year, it’s a totally plausible theory that Lance would take Keith’s answer as blackmail to get him in trouble- revenge for getting punched in the face.

“...a knife,” Keith says after a long moment. “It used to belong to my parents. That kid stole it out of my bag during P.E. and threatened to take it to Iverson so I’d get expelled from the school. That wasn’t the actual reason I got expelled though, ironically enough.”

Lance doesn’t say anything, obviously waiting for an explanation, and Keith’s face tilts up into a smile that makes Lance think his assumption that Keith was just a rude fuck is very wrong.

“I punched Iverson in the face.”

“You punched Iverson?!” Lance blurts, grinning from ear to ear. “Dude! That guy was an asshole! Man, sucks that you got expelled for it though, with how rude he was to all his students.”

“Yeah. He was going off about how I was supposed to be a good example, spewing shit about how I’m a prodigy or whatever and shouldn’t be getting into fights and ruining my image. Made it seem like my image being ruined somehow ruined the school’s image too,” Keith explains. “They weren’t going to even suspend me for the knife thing, but then Iverson said it was stupid that I cared so much about a gift from two people I never even got to meet. And I fucking decked him.”

“And that’s why you got expelled. For decking Iverson.”

Keith nods, and Lance is in awe. He can’t say he wouldn’t expect such a thing from Keith - after all, he is known for being prone to fighting - but to punch Iverson, the meanest adult Lance has ever laid eyes on, is something he considers to be incredibly admirable despite the fact he definitely doesn’t condone violence. Keith seems to loosen up a little at the fact that he’s smiling, which Lance watches with keen eyes; the way his knees drift farther from his chest, the way his head lifts up from where his shoulders were stooped low.

Lance’s cell phone vibrates in his pocket, startling them both, and he pulls it out to find a couple texts from Pidge asking him where he is. He’d completely forgotten about his normal lunch plans in the unexpected conversation with Keith. He texts her back saying he’ll be right there.

“My friends are waiting for me, so I gotta go,” Lance says, standing and brushing dirt off the back of his jeans. “If you want, you can come eat with us. We eat in the courtyard, so it’s not loud. And it’ll just be me, Hunk, and Pidge. They’re both nice, I’m sure they’d like you.”

Keith looks at him with wide eyes, and Lance offhandedly realizes that this is the first time he’s ever actually spoken to Keith. He also remembers the fact that Keith did, in fact, punch him in the face last year, and while he knows Hunk and Pidge don’t hold a grudge over that, Keith doesn’t. Lance almost expects Keith to decline his offer and never talk to him again.

But then Keith smiles, a small, soft smile, and gathers his things. “Sure, I’d like that.”

Keith easily becomes a natural part of their group. He’s awkward that first day, not knowing how to act or what to say, but he quickly warms up to Hunk and Pidge, and after about two weeks it’s hard to imagine what their group would be like without Keith.

Lance doesn’t stop his observations. His eyes are constantly on Keith, taking in everything about him. He learns that Keith loves everything there is to love about space and its infinite possibilities. He learns that Keith is a good artist, and prefers drawing nature and space to anything else, but can still do amazingly realistic portraits. He learns that Keith has lived with his current foster family since he was twelve, and that this is the longest he’s stayed in one place in his entire life.

He learns that Keith was born with good hearing, but a degenerative disease caused his ears to slowly become less functional, and now he can’t hear anything without hearing aids. He learns that said degenerative disease could one day cause Keith to be completely deaf.

With Keith opening up to them and showing his true colors more and more, Lance comes to see that he really isn’t a violent person at all. When they hear stories of Keith’s fights from his point of view, they learn that most of the time, the other person was goading him or did something cruel that most definitely deserved a good hit. They learn that Keith sometimes has trouble controlling his emotions, and that when he gets angry or upset, it almost always ends badly. They learn that Keith doesn’t feel guilty for any of his outbursts, save one: the one with Lance.

That in itself is gives Lance goosebumps, and when Keith first tells them, he swears they’re both red in the face. Keith says he feels guilty for hitting Lance when he was just trying to help.

Of course, Lance forgives him - he already has, in his mind at least. Keith starts to adjust his old routes through the school so he can join the group on their way to class, suddenly appearing at Lance’s side from seemingly nowhere so they can walk to lunch together. And because he’s with their group most of the time, he gets halfway through the school year without a single fight.

The first time Lance learns anything substantial about Keith’s home life, he doesn’t even realize it.

It’s raining out - not the gentle, peaceful kind of rain, but the kind of rain that makes your skin ache and soaks you to the bone. The four of them made the regrettable decision to walk to the arcade instead of riding the bus straight home after school, and they spend a good twenty minutes racing through the downpour before they finally make it to Pidge’s house.

Colleen Holt offers to dry everyone’s clothes and make them all hot chocolate, and offers to drive Lance, Hunk, and Keith home afterwards. Keith gently denies a ride home, even though Colleen insists that cycling home in the rain is a terrible idea, but then the storm slows into a sprinkle, so she stops pushing. Lance and Hunk have spent enough nights in the Holt household to have clothes there, and Pidge offers up some of her brother’s old clothes for Keith to wear.

Lance is mostly dry, snug and warm in a pair of blue lion-themed pajamas Pidge says are tacky when Colleen hands him some black plaid pants and a bulky maroon sweater that looks like it’s from the early 80s to give to Keith. He finds Keith in the upstairs bathroom, and when he pushes open the door that isn’t all the way closed, he catches Keith with his shirt halfway off, his back exposed and showcasing several colorful bruises painted along his spine.

Lance expects Keith to hide himself, and he’s right, as Keith whirls around and turns toward him, back now hidden against the wall. Lance turns his gaze to the floor and sets the stack of clothes on the bathroom counter. “Uh, Colleen wanted me to bring these to you...sorry for not asking if I could come in, that was bad manners. I’m just gonna…go. Now.”

With that, Lance retreats out the door and pulls it shut, pointedly avoiding Keith’s gaze. However, the image of Keith’s violet eyes wide in shock stays in his head long after he’s back downstairs.

They don’t talk about that incident at all that night. Keith comes into the living room with his hair curtaining his face and takes a seat on the floor in front of the couch, right in front of where Lance is sitting cross-legged next to Hunk. He counts this as him being forgiven, and when their clothes are done drying and Colleen is piling everyone into the Holt family stationwagon, Lance’s eyes stay on Keith’s form until the car is too far away for him to see that mop of black hair.

Over the next few weeks, Lance’s gaze is on Keith more than ever before, and he starts to see ticks in his friend that he’d not quite seen for what they were previously. He catches on to the way Keith sits, arms tucked close to his body, back slightly hunched, as if he’s trying to occupy as little space as possible. He watches the way Keith is always hyper aware of his surroundings, how his gaze lingers on anyone who walks by their lunch spot, how he flinches whenever someone is too loud or when someone gets too close. How he never sits with his back to anyone, always sitting against a wall or tree or in a spot where he can see the entire courtyard.

Lance notices how he’s never seen Keith without his signature red hoodie on, sleeves all the way down and black fingerless gloves covering his hands. He notices how Keith’s hair is always left to curl around his neck and most of his face. He doesn’t have the same P.E. class as Keith, but according to Hunk, who does, Keith never changes into his uniform in front of others.

While Lance has no concrete evidence to back up his theory that Keith is being abused at home, the pieces of Keith’s behavior that suggest it are overwhelming.

One day, after at least two weeks of theorizing, Lance finds himself on the complete wrong side of town from where his house is. He’d taken a few wrong turns walking home from the arcade he was at with Pidge and Hunk - from whom he’d turned down rides, since Hunk and his mom weren’t going straight home and his house is further away than the Holts’ - and is suddenly in a neighborhood he’s never actually been in before except for on the school bus, and even then, he’s always so engrossed in conversing with Hunk he never really notices the scenery change.

The houses here are small, tiny, even, and all of them are in varying states of disrepair: yards of dead grass full of weeds and litter. Lance can’t help but feel rather uncomfortable in such an environment, and he’s on the verge of calling his mom to come pick him up when shouting from one of the houses catches his attention.

It’s incredibly noisy, even though it’s at least two houses down from where Lance is standing. He can make out that the argument is centered around money, though he can’t tell what the two sides are, or distinguish between who’s yelling what. But then the shouting increases to full screeching and a door is thrown open with a crash that makes him think the door might have actually been broken, and a short frame stumbles out, a fist from inside the doorway connecting with their face and then pulling the door shut again.

It isn’t until the person is out in the yard that Lance recognizes them. It’s Keith, and the fact that his theory is suddenly being proven true makes his heart wrench in his chest.

Lance waits until Keith is collapsing onto the curb before he walks another two house’s distance so he’s at the edge of Keith’s brown lawn. Keith looks up and sees him before he can speak, and the look of pure shock mirrors the expression he was wearing that day so long ago when Lance caught him by surprise in Pidge’s bathroom. It’s a bookend, he thinks to himself; a moment in the beginning of a realization that happens later on, exactly the same.

“Lance?” Keith says, words quiet and stunned-sounding.

Lance nods with an awkward half-smile and twiddles his thumbs in front of him, taking a few more small steps toward Keith. “Hey.”

As he steps closer, Lance can see Keith’s condition more clearly in the fading light. The street lamps flicker on just as he stops about two feet away from his friend, and suddenly he sees the way Keith’s ear is split open, blood trailing down the side of Keith’s face.

“God, Keith.” He says, taking a seat next to Keith on the curb, glancing back at the house with an ache in his stomach.

Lance pulls his sleeve over his hand and inches toward the wound. Keith starts, leaning away, and Lance pauses. Their gazes meet and Lance feels his stomach sinking further when he can only interpret the expression on Keith’s face as fear. But then Keith’s features soften, and he lets Lance use his sleeve to wipe off the blood trailing down the side of his face. There’s only the sound of their own breathing and a dog barking somewhere in the distance, and Lance barely registers that he now has Keith’s blood all over the sleeve of his favorite jacket.

When the blood is mostly gone or dried onto skin, Lance carefully dislodges Keith’s hearing aid from his ear. It’s broken, a long crack going down the entirety of the speaker and exposing the wires within. Lance gives it to Keith, who looks down at it with a quiet huff.

“This isn’t the first time this has happened, is it.” Lance says, more a statement than a question.

“...no,” Keith says. “But it is the first time he’s broken one of my hearing aids. Usually he avoids hitting near them, since they’re so expensive.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone? You could get him arrested. A guardian shouldn’t act like that.”

“I know. I only live with him because he’s the only person in the area who could take me when I got kicked out of my previous foster home a while ago,” Keith explains, curling his fist around the hearing aid and pulling his knees to his chest. “And...there are a couple of reasons why I haven’t told anyone. Mostly because I don’t want to have to leave this neighborhood.”

Lance waits for Keith to continue, and he does.

“When I was younger, I had a foster brother. His name was Takashi Shirogane but everyone called him Shiro. We lived here together. We were really close, or...so I thought, at least.”

A car drives by, casting stark shadows against Keith’s face. Keith’s eyes dart to the ground, to Lance, to some point in the distance. But Lance can’t bring himself to look away.

“When he turned eighteen, he got kicked out and disappeared. I thought he would come back for me, even just to visit, but...he never did. But I don’t think he would just leave and never come back, you know? So I chose to stay here in case he ever comes back. He won’t be able to find me if I get sent to some other house in some other town.”

“Keith-”

“That’s not the only reason, though,” Keith interrupts him. “I was planning on running away, when I first started high school. He started treating me worse because he thinks I’m more of man now, since I’m older, so I should be able to take it. But then you spoke to me that one day, in the hall. And you invited me to sit with you and Pidge and Hunk, and you didn’t make it a one-time thing, either. You let me keep coming back, day after day.”

Keith leans into Lance, and Lance lets him. “Did you know that you guys are the only friends I’ve ever had in my whole life, aside from Shiro?”

“No, I didn’t know that.” Lance whispers.

Keith doesn’t seem to have anything else to say, and Lance doesn’t know what else he can say, so they sit there in silence until Lance’s mom calls, demanding to know where he is. He explains that he got lost and that he stumbled across a friend’s house, and that he really doesn’t know where the hell he is. Keith supplies his home address and Lance’s mom says she’s on her way there. Silence falls once again when Lance hangs up.

“I should go back inside before your mom gets here.” Keith says after a moment.

“Keith, are you kidding?” Lance gapes. “You shouldn’t go back in there, period!”

“It’ll only be worse if I stay out overnight. And I don’t want to be a burden, not on you or your family or anyone else. I’ll be fine, Lance.”

Lance wants to argue that Keith’s definition of the word ‘fine’ has to be drastically skewed for it to apply right now, but he has a feeling it’ll only cause problems, so he says nothing. Keith stands, and Lance does the same, and before Lance can do so much as wipe the minuscule pieces of gravel off his jeans, Keith is hugging him and burying his face in the crook of his neck, carefully aiming his wounded ear away from Lance’s jacket to avoid getting any more blood on it.

It’s Lance’s turn to be surprised - he’s never seen Keith hug anyone. Physical touch has been a slow thing for Keith. Pidge had to teach him what a fist-bump was. Yet, here he is, arms wrapped around Lance’s torso, fingers clinging to the fabric of his jacket as if Keith doesn’t want to leave him after all.

But then Keith is pulling away, and he says a quiet “seeya” before disappearing inside his house.

Lance almost expects the yelling to pick up again, but it doesn’t, and only a few minutes pass before he hears his mom’s voice calling for him from her car a house over. He climbs into the passenger seat and apologizes for not having called earlier, and he vaguely explains that he got so caught up in talking to Keith that he didn’t notice the time passing by. It isn’t a lie - Lance doubts he’d ever be capable of lying to his mom - but it isn’t the whole truth, and while he wants to tell someone about what’s happening to Keith, it’s not his truth to tell.

And so he keeps it in, only half-listening as his mother recounts her day and blatantly ignoring his siblings as they start rambling about the chaos of life when he gets home. He sits through dinner without adding much to the conversation, and if anyone notices, they don’t say anything about it. His older sister gives him a dirty look when he misses her question about whether he’ll be bringing Pidge and Hunk over anytime soon, and he slips into his room before she can complain.

When Lance gets to school the next day, he pretends not to notice the lie in Keith’s story that the now-missing hearing aid fell out and got stepped on the day before.

A week later, Keith comes to school with a black eye and cut lip and a wrist that twitches whenever he tries to use it - the only injuries Lance has ever noticed outright, though he wonders if maybe he only noticed because he knows - and Lance decides he has to do something, whether Keith wants him to or not.

Lance calls Pidge and Hunk over to his house that weekend under the pretense of a dinner with his family. It starts out just like any normal dinner with them over: Hunk helps cook dinner and chats avidly with Lance’s mom in the kitchen, Pidge beats Lance’s brothers at Mario Kart and effectively distracts them from bugging everyone else, and all of Lance’s siblings talk at a mile a minute to get ‘embarrassing school stories’ about Lance from both his friends.

After dinner, Lance swiftly ushers Pidge and Hunk up to his bedroom and blocks the door with his desk chair to make up for his door not having a lock, placing both hands on his hips and turning to his friends with what he hopes is a serious expression that doesn’t betray the worry he feels for Keith.

“Okay, why are you looking at us like that? You look like you’re about to scold us or something.” Pidge inquires, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow at Lance.

Lance lets the serious expression slide off his face and takes a seat in his desk chair against the door. “Um, so last week I found out where Keith lives by accident, and I kinda found out his foster dad is abusing him, and technically he never asked me not to say anything and he came to class the other day all injured and I honestly can’t ignore it now that I know, so. I want to do something, but I don’t really know what I should do, and you guys are smart so I thought you could tell me.”

“Whoa, that sounds like some pretty heavy stuff.” Hunk says, concern riddling his features.

Pidge nods and rests her chin in one hand, focusing on something across from her with pinched eyes. “We should definitely tell someone. But we shouldn’t involve the police right away, it might be too much for Keith. We should take it slow, subtle.”

“Yeah, okay.” Lance agrees. “So who should we tell?”

“Your parents. They’re probably the best people for this. They’ll be understanding.”

“Don’t you think Keith would be overwhelmed by my family, though?”

“Oh, definitely. You just have to be there to help him out when it gets too intense.”

Lance takes a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do this then.”

One week later, Lance has a plan.

His entire family ends up involved in it somehow, and Lance is grateful to have such a large family: it means he has a lot of support. Pidge and Hunk were eager to help - and their parents all agreed to help as well - and Lance has to admit that the two of them came up with most of the plan themselves. Lance just provided the most crucial part. An endgame.

The endgame? Getting Keith into a safe space: Lance’s home.

Now, they just have to convince Keith to go along with it, without him actually knowing the plan.

Lance does his best to act like there’s nothing out of the ordinary. He doesn’t want Keith to be suspicious of anything, or worse- think Lance doesn’t like him now that he knows the truth.

He waves at Keith when he gets off the bus with Hunk. He groans when Keith reminds him they have a maths test in about fifteen minutes. He listens intently as Pidge rambles about how Matt’s supposed to be coming home next month, and that he’ll be bringing his college roommate.

When Hunk and Pidge split off to go to their own homerooms, Lance turns to Keith and begs for a run-down of the formulas they need to know for their test. He hasn’t studied; he was too caught up in planning to even remember. But he knows Keith studied. And even if he hadn’t, he knows Keith is too good at maths to not know. So he begs Keith for help. And, like the good friend he is, Keith does.

They spend the precious few minutes before the start of homeroom running through all the material they’d learned the past month, and by the time the bell rings, Lance feels at least a little bit prepared for the test.

(He still fails, which he doesn’t find out for another week, but he tried, and that’s what matters anyway, right?)

It isn’t until lunch period that their plan really goes into action.

“Hey, so my brother’s birthday is today,” Lance starts - and it isn’t a lie. “and my family’s got plans to bake him a cake and set up for like, his birthday party and whatnot. He’ll be at work until like seven pm, so my mom said I could invite you guys to come help with the setup.”

“Well, you know I’m coming. My moms already told me your mama invited them to do all the food prep.” Hunk answers immediately.

“I’ll call my mom and let her know. It’s not like I have plans or anything.” Pidge says.

They all look to Keith at exactly the same time, and for a split second, Lance is worried Keith will suspect the entire conversation is scripted (which it is), but he just looks awkward and nervous.

“You won’t be a burden if you decide you join us, y’know.” Lance says.

It must be like Lance was reading Keith’s thoughts, because Keith’s ears turn pink, and he shifts a little in his chair. Pidge and Hunk nod and hum in assent to Lance’s statement, and Keith looks to be considering his options: he can accept, and hang out with his friends in their home environment for the first time since that rainy day that feels so long ago, or he can decline, which would ruin Lance’s plan completely, however unintentional.

And either Keith is finally starting to truly warm up to them, or Lance is just plain lucky, because Keith smiles - a rare, toothy, beautiful smile - and says, “Sure. Why not?”

Lance beams in return, can see Hunk and Pidge beaming as well, half out of relief their plan is working and half out of pure happiness, because Keith is coming with them, and while it isn’t a big deal, really, Lance suspects all three of them see it as some kind of milestone.

With that part of their plan sorted, normal conversation resumes, and when the bell rings, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge share a thumbs up between each other the moment Keith’s back is turned. He doesn’t seem to suspect a thing, and Lance is grateful, because the entire plan hinges on Keith staying oblivious and not getting angry at Lance for concocting the plan in the first place.

Lance tries not to think about what’ll happen once Keith inevitably realizes he’s been betrayed.

After school ends, Lance calls his mom to come pick the four of them up, because Hunk is the only one who could actually ride home with him on the bus. She’s expecting his call. True to script, he asks if she can come get them, and she asks if it’s just going to be Hunk and Pidge. Lance feels himself smiling when he says “No, Keith’s gonna be coming too. I know you wanted to meet him.” and he can imagine she’s smiling, too, because aside from Hunk and Pidge, she was the first to accept Lance’s plan, and had dove headfirst into helping with the preparations.

They chatter rather aimlessly while they wait for Lance’s mom, everyone but Keith a little bit on edge with the secrets they’re keeping, and Lance is grateful it only takes her about five minutes to arrive (he suspects she may have already been in her car, ready to go, when he called).

“You must be Keith!” She says as they all pile into the car. “Lance has been chattering on about you for a while now, I almost thought he’d abandoned Hunk and Pidge completely!”

Lance sputters, can feel his face growing red, can feel Hunk and Pidge’s eyes on him. He turns to look out the window, because he doesn’t want to see the knowing looks they’re surely giving him. And he doesn’t want to even imagine what kind of expression Keith has.

“I bet he just badmouths Keith for being better than him at everything.” Pidge says snidely.

“Hey!” Lance squawks, because he has absolutely been doing that, but no one needs to know. Especially not Keith himself. “He’s not better than me at everything! And I don’t badmouth!”

Lance can see his mother side-eyeing him, eyebrows raised. He knows she can see straight through his horrible attempt at saving himself from embarrassment. Which is pointless, because he’s already embarrassed. And, because she’s Maria McClain, he watches her smirk and roll her eyes as she turns her gaze back on the road and continues talking like nothing’s happened.

“So, how was school, then? Anything noteworthy happen?” She asks, perfectly mundane. “How did you do on that test you forgot to study for?”

Keith is chuckling in the backseat, Lance knows it, and he shoots the guy a look that he hopes conveys how utterly betrayed he feels. “Hey, I’ve been busy! Doing...stuff.” Right, because that wasn’t at all ominous. Keith just raises an eyebrow. “And besides, Keith helped me study! This morning. Before the test. That counts!”

He doesn't sound at all convincing, but everyone is entertained to some degree, and while Lance kind of wants to point out how they’re all entertained at his expense, it’s nice to see a smile on their faces. With all the planning they’ve been doing and the nature of the situation at hand, it’s been a few days since Lance has seen Hunk’s eyes crinkle around the edges or heard Pidge’s full belly chortle. And Keith...well, he’s chuckling, and that’s something Lance recognizes as rare.

The ride from Alternia High School to the McClain residence is spent in constant chatter. Lance steers the conversation away from himself and his mistakes, and they get talking about cakes and party decorations and what kind of music should be played and oh yeah, Andi doesn’t even like cake, so what on Earth are they gonna do now? By the time they pull up to the quaint grey and white house Lance has known all his life, Hunk and Maria have narrowed down a list of four food choices to prepare in place of cake, and Pidge is playing space trivia with Keith in the back.

Toni and Camilla’s matching Frozen bikes are toppled over on opposite sides of the front lawn and on a normal day Lance would have been wondering who was watching them if they weren’t in the car with his mother, their full-time babysitter. But this isn’t a normal day.

“Alright kids, let’s get to work!” Maria says, turning to wink at everyone before climbing out of the car, waving her hands in an encouraging gesture Lance immediately interprets as “hurry up.” His friends also grasp the message and soon they’re all clambering up the steps onto the front porch of the McClain residence. Maria kicks a basketball out of the way of the door and opens it with one hand while texting with the other, and, once inside, is nearly bowled over by small children.

“Tio Hunk, tio Hunk!” Toni and Camilla, their words overlapping as they interrupt each other and compete over who can manage to get to Hunk first.

Hunk, to his credit, has mastered the role of ‘doting uncle’ and scoops them both up at the same time, one in each arm, and lets them throw their arms around his neck and pepper his cheeks with kisses. Pidge snickers into her hand, and Lance can see Keith trying not to laugh, too.

Lance puts on a fake pout and crosses his arms over his chest. “Hey hey hey, since when is Hunk the favorite uncle?”

“Since always!” Camilla says with a smile, giggling even more when Lance scowls.

“Oh, come on,” Pidge pats him on the back. “You can pout and complain over being abandoned later. We have a birthday party to set up, remember?”

Nodding, Lance lets Pidge wrap one hand around his arm and her other around Keith’s, and pull them both after Maria, who has disappeared into the kitchen. There are three other adults in the kitchen already - Lance’s father, who appears to be rummaging through kitchen drawers; and Hunk’s moms, who are greeting Maria with kisses on the cheek and both seem to be holding an assortment of dishware. His sister Melissa is standing on a step-stool in the living room, holding a roll of red paper streamers and looking incredibly bored. Half the roll is already taped up on the wall and Lance wonders why the hell she isn’t taping the rest of it up instead of standing there.

“Did you find any tape yet, dad?” She calls across the room, sounding annoyed.

“Not yet, just be patient! Why do we have so much junk in these drawers?!” John McClain calls back, sounding equally as annoyed..

Ah, that makes sense.

“You should have told me we needed tape earlier, I could’ve grabbed some on my way home!” Maria says. Lance watches her cross her arms and frown disappointedly at his father.

It’s quite funny, actually, how easily she can throw even her own husband into instant regret.

“I didn’t know we were out of tape in the whole house! I could have sworn we had more in one of these drawers, but we have so much random crud in them that even if we do have more, I don’t think I’d be able to find any if I looked around for ten thousand years!”

“Still, I think tape is a pretty important thing for a birthday party, don’t you agree?”

“Are they fighting?” Pidge asks quietly, leaning close to Lance’s ear, as if trying to be discreet. “I thought it was impossible for your parents to fight.”

Lance laughs a little to himself. “Oh, trust me, they fight sometimes, and this is not it.”

John and Maria are still bickering over the obvious importance of tape in any kind of situation that involves decorating, and Hunk bypasses all of it to offer his personal tape roll to Melissa, who looks like she’s about ready to keel over from holding her arm up so long. She smiles gratefully and continues hanging the length of streamers, carefully climbing down the step ladder to move it a few feet over before climbing back up to curl and hang more. It looks amazing, Lance thinks.

“Tio Lance, whos’ that?” Camilla says, tugging on Lance’s sleeve and pointing at Keith.

“That’s Keith,” Lance answers with a smile. “He’s my friend, like Hunk and Pidge. And I think,” Lance leans in close to Camilla’s ear, Toni leaning in to eavesdrop. “He could use some hugs.”

Toni and Camilla nod very seriously, turning toward Keith with a synchronized rhythm that could actually be considered quite creepy, like they’re the twins from The Shining or some shit. Keith, who has clearly been watching the conversation - most likely because it was about him - has a very quizzical expression on his face and Lance puts on his best evil grin as he watches Toni and Camilla practically barrel into Keith’s legs, wrapping their arms around him as best they can.

Pidge full-out belly laughs at how completely out of his league Keith looks, hands hovering above Camilla and Toni’s heads like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to hug them back, but then they’re giggling and he smiles, genuinely smiles, and his gloved hands rest on their shoulders as they rub their noses on his calves. Lance doesn’t mention that they might be wiping off actual snot.

“You’re tio Keith now!” Toni tells Keith, clearly not willing to accept rejection. “Come help us with our project! It’s the most important project of the whole party, mama said!”

“The most important? What is it?” Keith questions.

“Decorations! The plate ones!” Camilla yells in Keith’s ear. “We have to make ‘em ‘cause mama said a party has to have plate pictures! The best ones!”

“From the best artists, mama said!” Toni agrees, beaming.

“Wow,” Keith says, crouching to Toni and Camilla’s height. “That really is the most important.”

That feedback seems to be the final building block in Toni and Camilla’s easy love of Keith, since as soon as they hear him reiterating how important their job is, they each grab one of his arms and almost make him fall over in their haste to drag him over to what Lance assumes is their designated “decorating area” in a corner of the living room. They spout out questions on if Keith is a good artist and what kinds of things he can draw, and Lance finds himself simply waving the three of them off when Keith looks back at him and Pidge, as if asking what to do.

“Do you think we should save him? I doubt they’re gonna give him back unless you go tell them he has a different job to do.” Pidge asks.

“Nah,” Lance says. “This’ll keep him busy so we can talk to mama and the others.”

“Fair enough.”

While Keith is occupied with drawing on the paper plates Toni and Camilla hand him - turns out he’s a really good artist, who knew? - Lance drifts from person to person in the most natural ways he can, making sure everyone knows what’s going on with Keith. He takes Melissa’s place hanging the streamers when she complains about her arm being sore. He relieves his father of the search for tape by telling him Hunk had some, because apparently no one had done that yet. He hunts down and cleans some dishes Lily and Sunny Garrett needed but couldn’t find.

He, Hunk and Pidge drift past each other while helping prepare and trade information, some of it useful - like Pidge’s discovery that Andi will be home an hour early because of an unexpected hour change due to the time of year - and some of it not - like Hunk’s unnecessary comment on how Lance keeps glancing at Keith and is eventually gonna give them away. Which actually is helpful, now that he thinks about it, but the smirk and eyebrow wiggle Hunk gives him really isn’t.

When the brunt of the preparations are done, Lance breaks away from setting the table to grab the paper plate decorations Toni, Camilla, and Keith were meant to be making. He finds his niece and nephew practically laying on top of Keith, whose face is almost obscured by carpet as he valiantly tries to continue drawing what looks to be Camilla in a princess dress while the two kids are bouncing up and down on his back, clearly having gotten bored with coloring.

Or maybe less bored with coloring, and more intrigued by Keith. Lance doesn’t know which.

Keith looks up when Lance approaches, and Lance effortlessly scoops Toni off Keith’s back. Toni protests with an obnoxious whine but doesn’t make any attempts to get up when Lance sits cross-legged on the carpet and plops the boy down in his lap. Camilla stops bouncing and Lance is pretty sure he hears Keith heave a sigh of relief, but he doesn’t mention it.

“How are the decorations going, kids?” He asks, ruffling Toni’s hair.

“Uber good!” “Good!” Toni and Camilla say, their sentences overlapping. “Keith is uber good at drawing! Just like us!” Camilla continues.

“Uber good? Where did you learn that?” Lance questions.

“Lourdes!”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Is Lourdes your other sister?” Keith asks, eyes still on his paper plate drawing. “You’ve never talked about her before, just Melissa.”

“Yeah, she’s the middle sister. Melissa’s the oldest, then Andi, Lourdes, me, and then these two little pains in the butt.” Lance explains, ignoring Toni and Camilla’s whining about being insulted.

“So you’re technically the baby of the family, then.”

Keith still doesn’t look up from his drawing, but Lance can see the corners of his mouth quirk up and knows he’s smirking, as if this were some funny joke. Which it isn’t. Toni and Camilla laugh at it anyway, and Lance frowns. “Maybe! But that doesn’t mean I’m any less mature!”

“Oh right, as if Lance and mature even belong in the same sentence.” Says a new voice.

Lance turns to find Lourdes standing right above him, holding two huge paper grocery bags and looking like she’d just rolled out of bed despite it being early evening. One of the perks of college, Lance supposes- everyone’s too Done and Tired to care about appearances anymore.

“Okay, first of all, rude,” Lance snaps, scowling up at his sister with his hands on his hips. “And also, what the actual heck do you have in those bags?”

“Four lemon curd cheesecakes, a box of those vegan pumpkin cookies Melissa likes, and about six rolls of tape. Mom texted me to get some stuff because apparently she completely forgot that Andi doesn’t like cake and needed an emergency backup. Lucky I wasn’t home yet.” Lourdes replies, ignoring his scowl. Her eyes land on Keith and she raises an eyebrow. “Who’s he?”

Lance stops scowling and Keith finally looks up from his drawing, confused and maybe a little bit sheepish. Lance opens his mouth to answer, but Toni and Camilla beat him to the punch.

“He’s Keith!” “He’s Lance’s friend!” “He helped us with our pictures!” “Yeah, he’s uber good!” The two of them talk over each other, as always, but their explanation (if it can even be called that) gets across well enough. Lourdes smiles at Keith and Keith tentatively smiles back, grunting in discomfort as Camilla flips positions on his back to gesture wildly at his drawing. “He’s drawing me as a princess!” She says, beaming from ear to ear like it’s the best news in the whole world.

“Whoa, that’s pretty cool!” Lourdes sets the paper bags to the side and crouches down next to Lance and Toni, peeking at Keith’s drawing and whistling. “And it is uber good, just like you said.”

“Yeah, uber good!” Toni parrots.

Keith mumbles out a “thank you” and watches Lourdes ruffle both Toni and Camilla’s hair before standing back up again to take the paper bags to the kitchen. Lance watches her go. In any other situation, he would’ve expected her to tease him- because yeah, he’d talked about Keith a lot, even before he’d involved his entire family in his plan. He’s still kind of surprised she didn’t tease him, even a little bit, but the smarter part of him knows it’s because she doesn’t want to make it obvious that everyone in Lance’s family knows who Keith is, even if it wouldn’t be that strange.

“Lance! We need to get the desserts set up, come help get this cheesecake on the table.” Maria yells as she makes her way over to them. “Toni, Camilla, go ahead and put your decorations up.”

Toni and Camilla scramble to gather all the paper plates strewn about the living room floor. Keith helps them and lets the two kids drag him to the dining room table, showcasing where to put the paper plate art and chattering on about how “the angle has to be perfect” or something similar. Maria reaches Lance’s side and walks with him toward the kitchen where the cheesecakes are.

“It looks like he’s opening up. That’s a good thing.” She says, smiling warmly at the three. Lance knows she’s talking about Keith, and his own gaze falls on the boy. He nods.

“Have you figured out how you’re going to explain this all to him?”

“Not yet.”

Lance can feel his mama’s gaze on him, and he just keeps watching Keith. He watches him struggle to get one of the half-bent paper plates to stay neatly upright against a bowl of oranges, watches Toni and Camilla watch him, waiting, watches them applaud when he moves away and the plate doesn’t topple over. Then one of them bumps the table and causes it to fall, and they both start apologizing profusely while Keith looks on like he’s waiting for death’s sweet release.

“You’ve been brave with this plan, mijo.” Maria says, tucking an arm around Lance’s middle. “You know Keith might not react well. He’s probably going to be hurt, if he’s as guarded and private as you tell me. But I think it’s good that you’re here for him. Sounds like he needs it.”

Lance rests his chin on her head. “Yeah, I know he does. I just hope he doesn’t hate me after.”

Andi hadn’t been included in any of the plans for helping Keith, since it was all meant to overlap with a Super-Secret-Birthday-Bash Andi couldn’t know about, so the shocked expression on his face when he comes home to a horde of people screaming “happy birthday” at him in varying volumes is entirely genuine. He leaps about a foot in the air and the (empty) plastic cup he’d been holding goes flying across the entryway, almost hitting Sunny Garrett in her smiling face.

“The fuck?!” He yells, half-glaring at everyone.

“Language, mijo!” Maria yells back, though she’s still smiling from ear to ear. She pulls him down to her height and presses a kiss to his cheek. “It’s your birthday! Your surprise birthday party!

Andi makes a face like he’s constipated and then tilts his head, eyebrows going upward in a yeah-that-makes-sense fashion. “I feel like I should have expected this.”

“Well, it’s good that you didn’t, it would have ruined the surprise. Now come on, we got you cheesecake.” Maria pats him on the back and leads him out of the entryway, toward the kitchen. As she passes by where Lance is standing with Hunk and Pidge, she nods to Keith - still stuck in a Toni-Camilla sandwich - then winks and keeps moving. Andi notices the exchange and shoots Lance a confused look. Lance just shrugs. He’ll have to explain everything later.

For now, he has a message to pass on: it’s time to make Keith Kogane a McClain.

(Or, well, get him used to the McClains. Saying they’re gonna make him a McClain is weird. Like he’s gonna marry into the family or something, which is definitely not what’s happening here.)

(Later, Lance sees that Keith does become a McClain, as wholly as if he’d been born one.)

Dinner is a whirlwind of energy, with the ever-so-embarrassing Happy Birthday song ritual that has Andi’s ears turning red and food being passed around and everyone talking at once with at least four separate conversations going on at any given minute. Everyone’s eager to talk to Keith, and if it were anyone else’s birthday Lance would probably feel terrible for his friend taking the spotlight, but it’s Andi, and one glance at his brother confirms that Andi’s most likely grateful to have the attention on someone else so he can eat his cheesecake in the rare, temporary peace.

Keith is introduced, a little belatedly, to everyone at the party and they all take their turns making conversation with him, asking about his art and how classes are going and if Lance is just as annoying at school as he is at home. Lily and Sunny ask him for an opinion on the pizza they’d all had for dinner, and when he expresses his gratitude, they start on about whether or not he likes cooking or baking. Turns out, he’s never actually baked anything in his life, and the only thing he knows how to cook on his own is mac & cheese. The women look personally offended.

They promise to teach him how to cook at least a few basic dishes sometime, and Lance smiles to himself at the barely-there grin on Keith’s face when Sunny ruffles his hair.

Lance gets roped into a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos by Toni and Camilla, and he loses every round because he’s too distracted, watching Lourdes and Keith where they’re sitting on the floor across the living room. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but by the time the game is over, Keith is bright red and Lourdes is cackling like a Disney villain. Which she is. Lance swears.

Melissa gathers Toni and Camilla and bids everyone goodbye over the sounds of their protests. “We’ll be back tomorrow morning, calm down.” She says, when Camilla starts crying.

“But tio Keith won’t be here tomorrow!”

Lance thinks it’s adorable how attached to Keith the two had become over the course of the evening. Camilla continues to sob and Toni looks like he’s on the edge of crying too, and Melissa sighs, probably bone tired. Lance moves to try and calm them, but then Keith is crouching low to hug the both of them, still looking totally out of his element but perhaps a little less terrified.

“Hey, I’ll come back and visit sometime, okay?” He says. Toni and Camilla nod. “I promise.”

The two siblings cling to Keith a little longer before pulling back and hurrying to their mama, sobs replaced by little baby sniffles. They all wave until the door is closed behind them.

“So, who’s up for some MarioKart?” Pidge suggests, raising an eyebrow..

“Oh hell yeah! I’m gonna whoop your butt, Holt!” Lourdes easily accepts the challenge.

Pidge, Lourdes, Lance, Keith, and Hunk all end up crowded on the living room couch, trading off controllers whenever one person loses. Both Lance and Lourdes’ legs are in Hunk’s lap, and every once in a while he makes a face at their feet, though he makes no move to push them off. Pidge is sitting with her neck up against Lourdes’ side and the rest of her body flopping over the armrest like a limp noodle, and Keith is squished into the space between Lance and the other end of the couch, hands leaning on the armrest to avoid getting bumped by Lance’s elbows.

It’s mundane, and familiar, and comfortable, and Keith looks so relaxed, and Lance prays that it means his plan is working. He prays that Keith will understand, once everything is explained. He prays that Keith won’t hate him and run away and refuse help like he did before.

He prays that, no matter whether this fantastical plan succeeds or fails, Keith will be safe.

Lance’s nerves get the better of him, and he gets no higher than seventh place on any round. Pidge and Lourdes wipe the floor with all of them, expectedly, stealing first place from each other over and over until they’ve got about the same amount of wins. Keith does surprisingly well for a MarioKart beginner and Lance finds himself watching Keith more than he’s playing the game.

Thoughts swim in his head of the worst possible outcome of the night, where Keith calls him a traitor, storms out of the house, and refuses to talk to Lance ever again. He imagines what he’ll say, what he’ll do, what expression will be on his face. He imagines what would happen if Keith just… went with it. If he easily accepted that Lance just wanted to help, and chose to stay. That’s the outcome Lance wants, and he’s more than a little bit terrified of the other possibilities.

He wants Keith to let him help, wants Keith to be safe, wants Keith to be happy.

Lance’s hasn’t been in the game for several rounds now, and he only half-notices Pidge’s eighth win of the night. He’s staring at Keith’s fourth place ranking when Maria calls for them all to come into the kitchen for cocoa. There’s a lot of shuffling and stumbling and Lourdes almost falls on her face, but they all make it into the kitchen laughing and smiling from ear to ear.

He and Keith are the last ones into the kitchen, and he watches his mama gently tap Keith on the shoulder and usher him back out of the room, handing him a mug of cocoa on the way. And oh fuck, here we go. Lance holds his cup but doesn’t drink. He tunes out the MarioKart character stat debate going on beside him, is too busy watching his mom and Keith. He knows what they must be talking about- knows she must be explaining their plans to Keith. It’s nerve-wracking.

Lance knows the exact moment Keith realizes that everyone who was at that party, aside from Andi, is 100% aware of everything going on in Keith’s life. He knows because Keith’s head snaps around and sharp eyes land on him- glaring, cutting holes in his skull, full of hurt and anger.

This is what Lance was scared of.

Keith turns away, and Lance feels his stomach plummeting into the ground. Does Keith hate him now? What’s he thinking, of course Keith hates him now. How could he have thought everything would work out just fine? They’re not in a damn fairytale- this is real life, with Lance’s real friend, whose secrets he’s spilled to practically everyone he knows. Lance knows his intentions were good, but does that really outweigh the fact that he’s meddling in Keith’s life? They haven’t even been friends for that long. A couple months at most. Lance has no right to tell Keith what to do.

No more than two minutes into Lance’s staring-off-into-space-silent-guilt-parade and movement snaps him out of his thoughts, and Lance watches Keith storm around the living room, collecting his things. No one is talking about MarioKart now. Everyone is watching Keith.

“Keith, mijo, at least let me drive you home. It’s late.” Maria asks, her face full of concern.

Keith shakes his head, avoiding eye contact, and yanks his shoes on. He looks back at Lance and Lance feels like he might crumble under that gaze, because Keith is fucking pissed.

The front door opens and Keith leaves, closing the door behind him, and without really thinking, Lance races after him. He’s wearing socks and cargo shorts and it’s past dark in late autumn, and he’s freezing the second he walks out the door. “Keith!” He yells, his feet already sore from running on cold pavement. “Keith, wait!” Keith is fast, and he doesn’t slow down.

Lance catches up and has to stop himself from grabbing at Keith’s arm, because the last thing he wants right now is for Keith to react on impulse and get them in another bad situation.

“Keith, please listen to me! I just wanted to help-”

“Help?!”

Keith whirls around and Lance takes a stumbling step back. Keith is glaring at him, expression clear even in the dim street lighting. He looks small, somehow, his shoulders hunched in and his arms pulled close, hands balled into fists at his sides that Lance can’t help but stare at.

“Do you really think spilling my private life to everyone you know is gonna help?! What if they tell the police?! What do you think is gonna happen?!”

“He’s abusing you, Keith!” Lance says, trying not to shout. “What if we can get him arrested?”

“And what if you do?! Lance, the whole reason I haven’t told anyone about this is because when social services finds out, they’re gonna relocate me. Another family, another town- that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid! I finally made friends, I don’t want to leave. But you know what? It doesn’t matter now, because clearly the friends I made don’t care about my fucking privacy.”

Keith’s words sting, like little needles stabbing into his skull, and Lance says nothing. Keith looks angry, and hurt, and there are tears in the corners of his eyes that twinkle in the lamplight. What can Lance say to him? After all that? Keith’s right. Lance fucked up. There’s nothing else to it.

Lance watches Keith turn around and leave. He stands there on the pavement until Keith’s form disappears around a corner and then he stands there a little longer, because he’s… in shock.

This is what he was afraid of. This was the worst case scenario.

Finally, when Lance’s socked feet are numb and his whole body is shivering, he turns his back on where Keith’s gone and walks back up to the house, where Maria, Lourdes, Hunk, and Pidge are all waiting just inside the door, the same expression of concern mirrored across their faces.

“He left.” Lance says. “I- I fucked up. Really bad.”

“Oh, mijo, this isn’t your fault. You did what you thought was right.” Maria says, pulling him into her arms. “Sometimes, when we do something out of love, it backfires. That isn’t our fault.”

“I don’t think Keith’s had a lot of love in his life. Maybe he just doesn’t understand.” Hunk adds.

Lance nods against his mama’s shoulder, and she pets his hair for a bit. Once they all discover how freezing cold Lance is, they gather around to smother him with blankets from the couch and Maria makes another round of cocoa for everyone. Conversation is slow and strained, and Lance tries to tune out most of it, but every time he slips into feeling absolutely miserable about hurting Keith, Hunk or Pidge or Lourdes says something funny that has him giggling despite it all.

When the cocoa is gone Maria finally ushers everyone to bed, and Lance ends up in his room with Pidge and Hunk shoved in next to him on the bottom bunk.

“What should we do now?” Lance asks into the dark, Pidge’s hair tickling his cheek.

Hunk, already half asleep, mumbles into his shoulder. “Just give him space. He’ll come ‘round.”

Keith does not come ‘round. At least, not very quickly.

When Lance and Hunk get of the bus on Monday morning, Keith doesn’t wave at them from his bike, doesn’t follow them to where Pidge always waits, doesn’t walk with Lance to maths.

Keith doesn’t give Lance so much as a side-eye during class, and Lance says nothing.

It’s like they’ve gone back to the first weeks of school, when Keith was just “that kid who punched me that one time” and Lance was “the one who got in the way.” Keith doesn’t walk with them to their classes, doesn’t sit with them at lunch, doesn’t share his notes with Lance or argue about the probability of aliens with Pidge or let Hunk fuss over his hair like a surrogate mother.

And Lance says nothing. Keith has every right to avoid him- to avoid all of them. Lance feels bad that he’s ruined Pidge and Hunk’s friendship with Keith too, just by getting them involved. But he does his best to stay positive, to not let what happened with Keith drag him down too much.

(He lies. It eats away at him as he tries to sleep, and no matter how many times Hunk or Pidge or his mama try to tell him it’ll all work out, Lance can’t seem to figure out how it possibly could.)

Around a week and a half passes before Keith approaches them again, and when he does, he has another black eye over the one that had finally started to heal, a gash on his eyebrow, and a thick ring of bruises around his throat that have Lance’s stomach churning. When he looks Keith in the eye his heart sinks too, because Keith’s expression isn’t angry, or hurt, just… tired.

“Dude, you look like you’ve lost a Kaiju battle or something.” Pidge blurts out.

Lance blanks, because what the fuck, Pidge?! But then he hears Keith actually laugh- not quite a happy laugh, more the awkward kind of laugh, the kind of laugh you laugh when it feels like the world’s falling to pieces around and you have to laugh because if you don’t you’ll just start crying.

“Yeah, well,” Keith says, his voice cracked and raw. “It definitely feels that way.”

Pidge snorts, and Hunk sighs, and Lance stares at Keith. He should say something. But what? Apologize? He already has, and Keith didn’t take it too well. Should he explain himself? He thinks that might make Keith even angrier- it would sound like Lance thinks Keith is weak and helpless.

But Keith doesn’t want to talk about the failed “rescue mission” half-disguised as Andi’s birthday party. Keith doesn’t mention it at all, just asks, “Can I sit with you guys?”

No one answers. Pidge and Hunk are clearly waiting for Lance to make the call, and Lance appreciates the gesture, even though he doesn’t think it’s earned. Keith waits, not mentioning the fight they had or how Lance betrayed him or even anything more about his wounds. Keith waits, watching Lance watch him, and Lance thinks that Keith’s question never needed to be asked.

“Of course you can.”

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, they’re all together, joking and laughing and poking fun at each other, just like friends should. Keith is smiling, and laughing, and Lance is happy.

When they all get out of class at the end of the day, Keith is waiting for them in the main hallway. He seems nervous, more nervous than he had at lunch, but he debates with Pidge the logic or not-logic of a comic series they apparently both read and Lance decides not to mention it. Hunk joins in on their debate once he has a better picture of the context and Lance listens with a laugh, not really understanding any of it but enjoying the ridiculous things they use to justify their side.

They all say hi to Mrs. Holt and wave dramatically at Pidge as their stationwagon pulls out of the parking lot, and Keith falls behind as Lance and Hunk make for their bus. Hunk goes on ahead with a playful nudge at both of them and Lance pauses, watches Keith, tries not fidget.

Keith looks at him and his expression is sad, almost desperate. “Lance, I’m really sorry about the other night. You didn’t deserve to get yelled at. You were just trying to help me, and I didn’t want to admit I needed help. I just- I’m not used to people being nice to me. It caught me off guard, still does, and I think I didn’t know how to cope with your family treating me like I’m… one of them. So I picked the first excuse I could to get mad and I treated you like actual shit. I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, you had every reason to get mad-” Lance starts.

“No, I really didn’t!” Keith interrupts him, quietly catching himself with a whispered apology. “You wanted to help me, and you did what you thought would help. You told people you trusted and I got mad at you for it. That’s not fair. It’s not fair for me to reject you when you’re just trying to be a good friend. I think I understand what that means now, y’know. Being someone’s friend.”

Lance finds himself smiling, because this is what he wanted Keith to understand- that he has friends, people who love him and care about him and want him to be safe. He wanted Keith to understand that he has people who want to help him. People that will help him, if he asks.

“Keith,” Lance says, holding a hand out for Keith to take, if he wants. “Wanna come to my house tonight? You did promise you’d visit Toni and Camilla again sometime.”

Keith stares at him for a moment, and Lance wonders if maybe he should have said more, if he should explain more of his process or how much his family loves Keith or apologize again, even though Keith doesn’t seem to think he’s at fault. He wonders if this is too forward, asking him to come over again like it’s not big deal. He wonders if Keith will say yes after all that’s happened.

Keith smiles, shy and small and real. He takes Lance’s hand, and says, “Yes, please.”

That night, when Lance and Keith are snuggled up in blankets on different bunks in Lance’s bed, Lance explains to Keith every aspect of his plans to get Keith into a safer place.

Keith listens, doesn’t say anything until Lance is finished. A heavy silence hangs between them.

“How many people were involved?” He asks.

Lance counts on his fingers. “Well, my whole family, aside from like, Toni and Camilla. And Andi, since we couldn’t tell him about the party. Hunk’s moms, Hunk and Pidge, Pidge’s parents- we had backup plans in case you’d rather stay with Pidge or Hunk than me. So… ten people?”

That heavy silence falls again, and Lance finds himself fidgeting, anxious and impatient. He picks at hanging threads from the mattress above him, fiddles with the hem of his blanket, and waits.

Finally, a reply. “That’s a lot of people.”

“Yeah.”

“That means I’m important to you, doesn’t it?”

Lance blanks, for a second, then smiles from ear to ear, because yes, Keith finally gets it. “Hell yeah you’re important to me, dude! You’re one of my best friends now! That makes you a VIP.”

Lance hears Keith’s soft, raspy laugh echo in the darkness of the room. “Sweet.”

Just like how Keith became a part of Lance’s little friend group in no time at all, Keith becomes a part of the McClain family pretty much within the span of a single night.

No one so much as bats and eyelash when Keith joins them at the breakfast table the morning after his first night staying over, and in the week since, he’s had personalized allergy-free lunches made for him by Maria, had an hour long Nicolas Sparks debate with Andi, and had his makeup done by Melissa, Lourdes, and Toni and Camilla, all on separate occasions.

(And yes, Lance forced his mama to take pictures on each of those separate occasions.)

Maria drives them to and from school, picking up Hunk along the way most days. She takes him and Keith out to buy coats and new jeans, because Keith didn’t bring a whole lot with him when he left home and he doesn’t actually have a good winter coat, which is sacrilege in her eyes.

Lance offers up his own bedroom to share with Keith, and at first he’s nervous. He’s always had a hard time sleeping with others in the room, because he’s a restless sleeper. He moves around a lot. He makes noise. Growing up, Andi constantly complained about being kept up by Lance shaking the bed, until finally Melissa moved out and Lourdes offered to share with him.

Keith? Keith does not complain. Keith sleeps like a rock. It usually takes Lance a good while to fall asleep, even with his earbuds in playing ocean songs and all possible light blocked out by an eye mask. Keith, however, simply lays down and passes out, and does not move until he wakes.

It’s almost like we were meant to be, Lance thinks. The sentiment makes him giggle.

Everyone adores Keith, dotes on him and teases him and treats him like he’s been a part of the household from the very beginning. Lance can’t help but wish that Keith never has to leave.

(Lance worries. He worries so much. When they turn onto the main hall in school one day and Keith’s foster dad is standing there, talking to a teacher, and Keith looks so pale and small and scared, Lance grabs his arm and guides him to another exit, Hunk doing his best to calm Keith and Pidge watching behind them like a hawk watching for a potential predator. Keith stays home from then on and Maria lets him. And Lance worries. How long, exactly, can all of this last?)

“Is Toni gonna die?”

Lance looks at Camilla and resists the urge to smile, because despite the nature of her question, she doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned for her brother’s well-being.

“No, Camilla, he just has the flu. He’s not gonna die.” He says, patting her on the back.

Camilla turns and glares at him for making her stumble and Lance has to hide his smile behind a hand. She finishes off the braid she’s doing in Keith’s hair and turns to Lance, holding it out in his direction with the most begrudging expression a five-year-old can have. She’s Melissa’s kid, that’s for damn sure. Lance takes the end of the braid and ties off the elastic for her.

“All done! Look, look, look!” Camilla says with sudden enthusiasm, shoving a plastic play mirror into Keith’s hands so he can see the masterpiece that is his new hairdo.

Camilla has spent a good fifteen or twenty minutes twisting three smaller braids into one gigantic plait that’s about as wide as Keith’s head, with bumps at different angles and crooked chunks of braid and little hairs that didn’t quite fit into the plaits sticking out every which way. It looks terrible, Lance thinks, but in the cute, learning-curve kind of way that can only really be achieved when you have a five-year-old who has only ever done the hair of dolls decide to give you a makeover.

Lance fully expects Keith’s face to contort into something that portrays how much Camilla might need to practice, but Keith just smiles, turning the mirror this way and that to get a view of every angle he possibly can. He’s beaming, and Camilla is beaming, and Lance fucking giggles.

How can a guy who didn’t know what a fist bump was a few months ago, be so good with kids?!

“It’s amazing, Camilla,” Keith says, handing her back the mirror and feeling along the plaits with his fingers. “I love it. Thank you.”

Camilla squeals and throws her arms around Keith, probably dislodging part of the braid as she jumps up and down in her excitement. Keith has spent long enough in the McClain house to be very much used to Toni and Camilla’s boundless energy, and he just laughs, a soft, comfortable laugh, gently patting the braid back into place (still crooked, but a little better) when Camilla stills.

The three of them are all bundled up in late-autumn-early-winter-weather clothes, sat outside on the front walk to avoid contracting the flu from Toni and getting sick themselves. Lance is sat on the steps of the porch with his jacket pulled up as far as it’ll get on around his neck, while Keith and Camilla are on the walkway with a few blankets between their butts and freezing concrete.

It’s been ten days since Keith started staying at the McClain house, three days since he stopped attending school, and Lance feels an ache in his stomach, like their luck is going to run out soon.

An unfamiliar car pulls into the driveway.

At first, Lance eyes the car with vacant curiosity. Their house is at the dead-end of a street and it isn’t uncommon for their driveway to be used as a turn-around for lost drivers.

One glance in Keith’s direction and Lance instantly knows that something is very, very wrong.

Keith looks scared. His face is ashen, eyes blown wide, hands gripping the blanket beneath him like a lifeline even as he scoots in front of Camilla almost on instinct. Lance is on his feet and moving toward them before the car door can open. And when it does, all hell breaks loose.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” The man shouts, in a voice Lance barely recognizes from that night so long ago. “You fucking ran off for an entire week, you think you have the right?!”

Lance doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to say, it’s like a horror movie is happening in front of him. The man shoots out a hand and grabs at Keith’s hair like a murderous villain, lifting him off the ground and dragging him a good few feet forward, as if Keith weighed nothing at all.

“Get off, asshole!” Keith shouts, kicking at the man and shoving at his hand, trying to dislodge the fingers tangled in his hair. “Fucking let go!”

Without thinking, Lance lunges for Keith and pushes at the man’s hands, shouting for him to let the fuck go and fuck off, what right does he have to treat Keith like this? Camilla is wailing and Keith is swearing and Lance is shouting and the man is yelling at Keith for being a brat and disobeying curfew, what a fucking idiot, how dare he. If there was a neighborhood watch, surely someone would have called the cops by now, with all the noise they’re making.

Lance takes an elbow to the face and stumbles, falling on his ass and catching himself with one hand that he’ll definitely be picking rocks out of with tweezers later. Keith is screaming his name and then screaming curses at the world. Keith’s foster dad kicks the feet out from under him and Lance watches Keith get manhandled, kicking and scratching and biting, toward the man’s car.

Lance climbs back onto his feet and a door opens, but not a car door- the front door of the house is thrown open, and Lance doesn’t think he’s ever been so grateful to see his dad’s face.

John McClain, Captain of Lions Beach Police Station, walks out like the eye of a storm, calm and collected. He lifts one hand out at Lance as a cue to stay right where he is and Lance does stay. He hears Camilla’s cries soften and turns to find his mother in the doorway, one arm cradling a coughing Toni and the other holding Camilla close, both kids’ faces pressed up against her and shielded from the drama. When she catches Lance’s gaze, she smiles, small but reassuring.

“Let him go and put your hands up!” John demands, loud and stern.

Keith’s foster father pauses, but only to glare at John as if he were the scum of the Earth. “Why the hell should I listen to you? You kidnap my kid and then think you can order me around?!”

John pulls out his badge, and the man suddenly looks very, very scared. He drops Keith instantly.

Keith scrambles to his feet and runs for the house, grabbing at Maria’s sleeve as soon as he’s near. Lance picks up Camilla so Maria has a free arm to hug Keith. He can feel Keith shaking, can hear his heavy breathing, but his eyes refuse to leave his dad and the scene before them.

“John Doe, you are under arrest for trespassing and assault. You have the right to remain silent.” John pins the man up against his own car and handcuffs him. There’s a police siren in the distance. “If you give up that right, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you…”

A police car pulls up to the driveway just as John is finished, and out climbs two officers Lance vaguely recognizes, probably from some potluck or another. The two new officers take over and Keith’s foster father disappears into the police car. A minute later, an ambulance pulls up.

“Lance, mijo, take Toni for me, okay?”

Lance sets Camilla down and takes Toni, who is fast asleep despite the chaos. Maria kisses all three of them on the head before wrapping both arms around Keith and starting down the steps.

“I called Melissa and Lourdes, they’ll be home soon as they can be. I need you to stay here for a little while, okay? Take care of Toni and Camilla?” Maria says, her smile strained.

‘Why can’t we go with you?’ Lance wants to ask. But he knows why. There’s no telling how long it will take to sort out everything that’s just happened, no telling what will happen to Keith or if they’ll get in trouble for harboring a runaway or- or- Lance shoves aside thoughts of Keith’s foster dad getting off scot-free and Keith having to go back to him. His parents will never let that happen.

So Lance just nods, tries his best to smile, and stays. Keith peeks out around Maria as they walk toward the ambulance and Lance doesn’t know what to say. So he says nothing, just watches as his parents disappear down the road, and prays that Keith will be with them when they return.

Lance takes Toni back to bed in the living room and Camilla helps him lock up every window and door in the house. He makes it into a game and manages to win a bit of laughter from her, which he counts as a feat. But as soon as they’ve settled in the living room next to a sleeping Toni, she releases all her questions on him in rapid succession. Where did nana and papa go? Why did the big truck take Keith away? Who was that man? Why was he being so mean to Keith?

Lance hugs her close and tries to explain. “You know how the bad guys in movies can be really mean to the heroes, and at the end the heroes beat the bad guys in a fight?” Camilla nods. “Well, that man that hurt Keith was a bad guy. Papa’s at the police station to make sure than man gets in trouble for being mean, and nana’s at the hospital to make sure Keith’s okay. That’s where the big truck took him- it’s an ambulance, they come rescue people who are hurt and heal them.”

Camilla nods, taking his cobbled-together explanation as fact. “When will tio Keith come home?”

Lance gives her a shaky smile. “Soon.”

Half an hour after the first responders have come and gone, Lourdes gets home, and Lance tells her everything their mama didn’t have time to mention. Camilla is fast asleep and when Lourdes pulls Lance into her arms, he cries, because he’s worried. He lets out all the emotions he’s been holding back, because he couldn’t bear to cry in front of Camilla and make her more scared.

John calls not long after Lourdes gets home to say that Keith’s foster father is in holding and that the specifics of the arrest will be handled by other officers, and that he’s heading to the hospital to check on Maria and Keith. John tells them not to worry, that everything is going to work out.

(Lance still worries, but he forces himself not to focus on it, because John McClain is not a liar)

Melissa gets home after the call, Andi gets home an hour after that, and they wait together in the living room, huddled like wolf pups waiting for their mother to return with food for the winter. Toni and Camilla wake up and demand movie time, and three episodes of Tangled: The Series later, they’re asleep again, along with Lourdes and Andi, who are both exhausted from their days.

Lance is exhausted too, body and soul, but he can’t find it in himself to sleep. His mind is going a mile a minute with thoughts of Keith and their parents and restraining orders and relocations and what if Lance could track down Keith’s brother? His fingers fidget with whatever they touch and Lance fights the urge to text Hunk or Pidge for help, because he’s not sure if he should share yet. What kind of rules are there in sharing this kind of thing? Would he get in trouble for telling them?

“I can hear you overthinking from all the way over here, Lancey-Lance.” Melissa says, using an old nickname that he hasn’t heard from her in years. “Do I have to ask what’s on your mind?”

Lance looks around Lourdes and Camilla’s sleeping forms between them, locks onto Melissa’s calm gaze, so much like their mama’s. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about what’ll happen to Keith. What if mama and dad get in trouble for letting him stay here? What if social services take him to some other family in some other town and I never get to see him anymore?”

“Lance, Keith ran away from a man who was abusing him. I don’t think mama and dad could get in trouble for protecting him even if dad wasn’t a police Captain. They’ll fight for Keith if they have to, you know that. And besides, they have a little trick up their sleeve they haven’t told you yet.”

Lance narrows his eyes at her. “What kind of trick?”

Five and a half hours. Keith’s ER checkup takes five and a half hours. Lourdes is awake again and doing homework in the dining room, Melissa is heating late-night leftover fried rice, and Andi is still passed out in the living room with Toni and Camilla. Lance is sat across the table from his sister, trying to focus on his own homework, but he has to keep reading the same sentences over and over again because his brain is too distracted to comprehend the material.

Lights stream through cracks in the dining room curtains and there’s the sound of an engine, of car doors opening and closing, of footsteps on the stone walkway and hushed voices outside.

Lance is on his feet in seconds and heading for the front door, Lourdes at his heels. He hears her talking to Andi, probably trying to wake him up, hears Toni and Camilla’s still-sleepy voices, but he doesn’t wait. He pulls the door open and there are his parents, coming up the steps.

Keith is wedged between them, a duffel bag in his arms. He’s smiling.

Everything in Lance wants to throw himself at Keith and squeeze his brains out in a hug, but he has no idea how injured Keith might be, so instead he throws himself at his mama and reaches an arm carefully around Keith to pull him closer. Keith comes willingly and Lance feels fingers in his jacket, holding tight. It doesn’t take long for everyone else who’s awake to join the hug.

“I’m fine, really.” Keith says in Lance’s ear, answering the question he hasn’t even asked yet.

Lance deflates, tension flowing out of him. Keith is okay. Keith is home. The hug huddle starts to disperse and Lance is shoved aside by Camilla, who tackles Keith ‘round the middle and sobs into his coat. Maria pulls Lance closer and kisses him on the cheek, hands in his hair, and Lance leans into her with a smile even as his eyes stay on Keith and Camilla. Keith drops the duffel bag onto the porch and kneels to Camilla’s height, hugging her back. She sobs a bit more and everyone starts to gravitate back into the house, but Lance stays, watching.

“That scary man came and hurt you and then the hospital people took you away-” Camilla says between hiccups, one hand wiping tears while the other clings to Keith’s jacket with an iron grip. “And Lance said you would be home soon but then it was a really long time and I missed you!”

Keith smiles, and Lance swears there are tears in his eyes. “I missed you too. All of you.”

No one asks for a full story from John and Maria McClain until Camilla has been detached from Keith’s torso and put to sleep again, Melissa having made the decision to simply stay the night rather than try and drive home. Toni is balled up in one of the armchairs and Camilla is splayed across the fold-out couch in the living room, dead to the world despite her earlier energy.

Andi is half-asleep and groggy but he lets Lourdes pull him into the dining room and sit him down to hear the news of the night. Lance sits with his chair right up next to Keith’s, their shoulders up against each other, the steam from their cups of tea mixing, their fingers just a few inches apart.

“So, there’s a little something we didn’t tell everyone while we were making plans for the party, simply because we weren’t sure how it would work out if needed. But,” Maria explains. “when we were thinking of ways to truly help Keith, Melissa suggested we apply to be emergency foster parents. That would mean if a foster child nearby was displaced, they would be brought here, Keith included. And your father was able to find out that there are no other such families nearby.”

“Which means that when Keith was taken into social service custody, he was automatically put into your custody after the hospital cleared him, right?” Lourdes asks, beaming.

Maria nods, and Lance wants to cry, because his parents are amazing, so beautifully amazing.

“As foster parents, we will only have custody of Keith until a family chooses to adopt him. And you guys seem to enjoy having him around so we talked to social services about how we could go about adopting Keith to be a part of our family, permanently.” John starts, expression smug as he drags out his sentences. Lance and his siblings are hanging onto every word. “Of course, we asked Keith first if he would like to stay, and, well, you wanna tell them what you said, Keith?”

All eyes lock onto Keith and he shrinks under their gazes at first, clearly exhausted and ready to sleep and perhaps still adjusting to having siblings, but then he smiles, brighter than Lance has ever seen him smile, and Lance’s entire body seems to heat up. “I said yes.”

Lourdes starts to cheer and Andi whacks her upside the head, reminding her that there are kids asleep in the next room over. Lance wraps his arms around Keith and Lourdes is pouncing onto them just seconds later. Keith melts into their hug and Lance couldn’t possibly be happier.

If someone had told fourteen-year-old Lance that he’d end up with Keith Kogane as a brother in under a year, he never would’ve believed them, but right now? Being with Keith just feels right.

✿ First Ending, Fin. ✿

“What the fuck do you mean, we missed Keith’s birthday?!” Pidge yells, enraged. “You mean his birthday was like, a week after we became friends, and he never told us?! Dude!”

“He said he’s never celebrated his birthday before, since he doesn’t actually know his real one. I think he just… didn’t think it mattered? I mean, this is Keith we’re talking about.” Lance says.

Lance, Pidge, and Hunk are sat at a corner table in the obnoxiously busy cafeteria, their normal spot being damp and freezing with early December rain. There’s less than a week before winter break starts and the three of them are despairing over the fact they’ve missed Keith’s birthday.

“Well, maybe we can still do something? It might be a little late, but it’s better than nothing.” Hunk says. Lance nods. “Besides, he’s a McClain now. And the McClains are great at parties.”

Lance snorts a laugh, because that’s something Keith learned very quickly- there have been two more birthday parties since Andi’s, and both had hours upon hours of loving setup behind them. The McClain family goes big or goes home. Hunk knows that, has been a part of that mindset for as long as either he or Lance can remember, and he chuckles too, leaving Pidge to roll her eyes.

Someone’s yelling in the distance and Pidge shoots a glare down the hall in the direction of it. “I forgot to tell you guys, Matt’s bringing his college roommate home for Christmas break.”

“Oh, I remember you mentioning it.” Lance says, sucking down the last of his Capri Sun.

“Yeah, well, apparently Matt cried over the phone because his roommate doesn’t have a family to spend the break with, so mom told him to invite the guy to spend the holidays with us.” There’s more yelling and Pidge frowns. “I’ve only heard stories about him so far, but he seems cool.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s in the same major as Matt, so he’s an astrophysics nerd. Matt has a total crush on him so I know he’s buff as shit and he has this cool scar over his nose, and he’s Japanese, so I’m pretty sure Matt’s used anime puns. Apparently he talks in his sleep.” Pidge pauses, clearly thinking up more tidbits. “His name’s Takashi but Matt says everyone in their classes calls him Shiro-”

“Wait, Shiro? Like Takashi Shirogane?” Lance blurts out. He remembers the name.

Pidge tilts her head at him. “Yeah, do you know-”

A high-pitched scream cuts through their conversation and everyone whips around to look at the origin of the sound. It’s a young girl Lance recognizes from his English class, Rom or Roxy or Ro or something similar. But Lance’s eyes don’t stay on her for long. Because there’s a gun.

(If you had told eighth-grade-Lance-McClain that his first thought, when caught in one of the most terrifying situations he could have possibly imagined, would be “what would Keith do?” …)

What would Keith do.

Lance knows Keith. Lance knows Keith. Knows how determined he is, knows how protective he is, knows how strong he is and how quick he is to take action, knows how many fights he’s been in- knows he came out on top in every single one, despite whatever consequences followed.

Lance knows if Keith were here, and he hopes to God Keith isn’t, that he would charge the kid holding a gun and firing on people Lance has known most of his life.

Lance can’t charge the kid holding a gun. He’ll die if he charges the kid holding a gun. He doesn’t want to die to the kid holding a gun. So he searches for the next best thing and instantly his eyes land on Romelle, the girl who screamed whose name he suddenly remembers clear as day.

She’s crumpled and crying and only a few feet away, and Lance drops to the ground, doesn’t let his eyes leave hers as she watches him come closer and closer until his hand touches hers.

She looks up at Lance and Lance smiles a shaky smile, fumbles for reassuring words.

She looks up at him and starts wailing.

Lance looks up, at the shadow behind him, and there’s the gun, inches away from his temple.

Keith can’t breathe.

He sits on Lance’s bunk, huddled in a corner, staring at nothing. His eyes are rubbed raw and he can’t bear to move from his spot, can’t bear to leave the room, can’t bear to see Lance’s family - his family, now. It hurts too much to see the tear lines on their cheeks, the bags under their eyes.

So he stays on the bed, curled in Lance’s jacket that still has faded bloodstains on the sleeve.

❀ Second Ending, Fin. ❀

For those who scrolled down to get that content warning- there’s a school shooting scene at the end of the fic. I’ve not experienced a school shooting or any kind of shooting, but I’m sure it’s absolutely harrowing, so I don’t want anyone who might be sensitive to that content to be hurt. Please be careful!

#voltron: legendary defender

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fandomseverywhereassemble · 7 years ago

Note

Could you do b2 or n5 (amputation/self surgery) with Lance?

I hope you enjoy some self-surgery! I also hope that it’s surgical enough for your liking!

“Guys, I think I’ve been hit,” Lance spoke over the comms. “Blue’s got something loose in her.”

“What do you mean by ‘loose’?” Pidge yelled over the explosions outside their Lion.

“What do you think I mean by loose?!” Lance demanded, “She’s really hurting, and I don’t think I can keep her in the air much longer.” He resisted the urge to grip his head, Blue was sending some of her pain and urgency over their bond, and Lance’s head felt like it was going to explode.

Keith’s voice came crackling over the comm link, “You’re flying fine right now, do you think you could keep her up for just a little bit longer? The Galra look like they’re getting ready to retreat.”

Lance nodded even though he knew the others couldn’t see him, “I can try.” He spun Blue to evade an attack, but he must have knocked something else loose because all of a sudden his head exploded in pain.

“Lance! Lance, are you okay?” Hunk’s worried voice asked, “That looked like a direct hit.”

I was hit? Was the last thought that went through his mind before Blue crashed into the surface of the planet.

“-an-”

Static filled his mind like cotton and made it hard to think.

“La-ce!”

He groaned in response which seemed to satisfy whoever was trying to scream through the static.

“He’s alive, guys!” Hunk. That voice was Hunk, wasn’t it?

“We could all hear him, Hunk.” A second voice spoke. “Lance, can you hear us?” Was that Keith? Maybe Shiro.

He groaned into the comms again and tried to squeeze his eyes open, but a sharp pain in his side distracted him further. “’m here.” He spoke. His mouth was dry, and his tongue was twice its usual size. He coughed weakly, but that only sent more pain through his stomach.

“Thank God.” Shiro breathed, “Lance, are you okay? We’re trying to get to you, but it could be a while. When you crashed, you might have accidentally set off a cave-in beneath you which swallowed Blue up.”

Lance opened his eyes but was met with complete darkness. “I-” He coughed again and groaned, “I may be having some slight problems.”

Pidge groaned obnoxiously, “What kind of problems, Lance? Is Blue operational?”

He reached out in his mind for her, but couldn’t find any trace of her. He shook his head, even though he knew they couldn’t see him, “I can’t feel any trace of her. My problem might be that I’m not operational.”

There was silence for a few seconds where the rest of the team could only hear his labored breathing.

“What… Do you mean by that, my boy?” Coran asked cautiously.

“I mean, I’m having a hard time breathing, and there’s this really bad pain in my side. I can’t see anything either.” As soon as he said it, a cool blue light washed over the cabin, allowing him to see some, but not all of the predicament he was in.

The entire front window had been shattered and through it was a large black crystal shard that ended in Lance’s side.

“Okay, one problem solved.” Lance tried to push hope into his voice, but knowing exactly what was happening was somehow worse than the unknown.

Keith sighed over the comms, “What problem have you solved?”

Lance coughed again, and the movement caused the rock to push deeper into his abdomen. He gasped loudly into the comms and waited for the spots in front of his vision to fade. He was starting to feel dizzy, and he hadn’t even moved, this was going to be great.

“So, I can sort of see now. Blue must have some emergency lights that still work.”

“This is good news.” Pidge said, “Why do I have a feeling that there is bad news following?”

Lance tried to breathe deeply, but he failed, “Out of curiosity, is anything on this planet toxic to humans?”

“I’ll do a scan of the planet immediately,” Coran said. His voice got softer as he moved away from his mic.

“Lance.” Shiro asked quietly, “Why do you need to know if anything is toxic?”

Lance smiled to himself softly, man, he was getting so lightheaded, “You know Pidge’s prediction that there was bad news? Well, they may be right.”

Hunk anxiously asked, “So, how bad is bad news? Are we talking can’t find our teddy bear bad or facing off against aliens bad?”

Before Lance could answer, Coran came back with the results of his scan, “So it looks like most things are harmless. The one exception to that is a mineral inside that cave system you fell into. Particles in the air only act as a mild irritant, but ingestion of even small amounts could be lethal to your species.”

The blue paladin sighed heavily and rested his head against the back of his seat, “Coran, does this mineral happen to look pitch black and shiny?”

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, “Yes, my boy. How did you know?”

“There may be a large shard lanced through me.” He tried to throw some humor into his voice, “C’mon guys, laugh at my dying joke.”

“This is not a time to be joking, blue paladin!” Allura’s voice ordered, “Your life could be in danger, and you are attempting to make jokes?”

Lance rolled his eyes, “Look, princess, if I’m going to die, I’m going to make sure at least one person is laughing.”

“You don’t have to die.”

“What was that Pidge?” Shiro asked.

“I said he doesn’t have to die.” They repeated, “Lance, under your chair there should be some sort of medical kit. Can you reach it?”

He reached down and felt around for the kit Pidge had described. Several moments went by before he finally grabbed it. Inside there were three rolls of gauze, which he had no clue how to use; band-aids or the Altean equivalent,, which he didn’t think would help him now; a large and intimidating knife that he didn’t understand the presence of; some sort of needle and thread; and other miscellaneous medical supplies.

“I’ve got it.” He was breathing heavily, too heavily for just grabbing and opening the medical kit, “Pidge, I’m not sure how to break it to you, but I don’t think band-aids are going to help me now.” His eyes were starting to droop. Was this from poisoning or blood loss.”

“You aren’t going to use the band-aids.”

“Well then what am I supposed to use?”

“The knife.”

The answer came so suddenly, Lance was speechless, “I’m sorry. I’ve been stabbed, and you think that a knife is going to help me?”

Pidge exhaled in frustration, “Yes. Now, you need to do what I say, and you are going to hate me for it, but after this, you might not die.”

“What the quiznack is a knife going-”

“Lance.” Shiro interrupted, “We are working on getting you out, but we need to be extra careful. If we pull the wrong rock, you could be crushed or impaled even further. Listen to Pidge and do as they say.”

Lance was quiet for a moment before he reluctantly answered, “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to use that big knife and cut through the crystal. The scans that Coran sent me show that the mineral is malleable enough to be cut with a serrated knife. The knife in my kit is serrated, please tell me that yours is as well.”

Lance hummed his agreement, it was getting hard to follow their words, but he hoped he was doing a good enough job at it.

“Cut through the crystal. I apologize in advance.”

Lance bit the inside of his cheek to try and regain consciousness. It gave him a small spark of energy, so he did it again when he hefted the knife against the crystal and started to saw.

“Ahh! Oh my God, Pidge.” Lance panted. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he bit his cheek harder to distract himself from the pain that every single vibration shot through his body, “Are you sure death isn’t an option?”

He continued to saw through the mineral, whimpering softly and trying to keep the tears from spilling over.

“We are all very sure that death is an option.” Keith spoke, “That’s why you need to listen to Pidge and do what they say.”

Lance tried to smile through the pain, only it ended up more like a grimace, “Awww… is Mullet worried for me?”

“Yes, you idiot!” Pidge shouted, “Now hurry up, we want as little toxins in your body as possible, and the longer that is in you, the more problems it will cause!”

The blue paladin sighed, “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. It’s a little hard to not want to when I’m feeling everything that is happening like I’m cutting into myself with this knife. I’m just about done with this part. Please tell me the next step is significantly less pain.”

Pidge shook their head, “The next step is to remove the rest of the mineral from your wound, so I need you to careful-”

“Oh, fuck. Mistake. Mistake.” Lance groaned and panted heavily to keep himself from screaming in pain.

“What did you do?” Pidge asked, concerned.

Lance held the sawed-off chunk of mineral in his hand, “You told me to take it out.”

“I was going to tell you to carefully take it out!” They screamed into the comm and made Lance’s repressed headache reemerge, “I wasn’t going to tell you to yank it out like some half-wit!”

“I realize…” He trailed off. The ceiling was really interesting. It would be so nice to just sleep right now, “I realize that what I just did… might have been…” He yawned, “a stupid decision.”

“Yes. It was very much a stupid decision.” Pidge yelled back, loud enough to startle a Hellen Keller, “Okay, so now, you need to stop the bleeding and quickly.”

Lance placed his hand on the wound, thoroughly covering it in blood. His hand did practically nothing to staunch the flow of blood, and it slipped easily between his fingers. “Guys, this is going to sound weird, but I’m actually feeling really… good.”

“I need you to pay attention!” Shiro ordered, “We should be able to get to you in another few minutes or so, and I don’t want to have gone through this much trouble only to find a corpse!”

The blue paladin smiled happily to himself, “So, what am I supposed to do… little Pidgey?” He played with the blood on his hand and felt how slippery it made them. It was so much more slippery than water. Slip ‘n’ Slides would be so much better if we used blood instead of water.

“I need you to close up the wound as best you can,” Pidge spoke, snapping him out of his delirium, “There could still be traces of the crystal in your blood system, but blood loss will kill you a whole lot quicker than poisoning. Do you still have your kit?”

Lance nodded happily, still playing with his blood, although it was coming a whole lot slower now. “Yep.” He affirmed, popping the ‘p.’

“Okay, great.” They started, “There should be a local anesthesia. Mine looks like a tub of blue goo, but it will numb anything it touches. Get that out and apply it with one hand, probably your left hand, to your wound.”

He reached into the box and pulled out the tub, only for it to slip from his grasp, fall to the floor, and roll a few feet away from him. “Question.” He said, “Is it possible that I don’t need an-, anthe-, ass-, whatever it is you said?”

Pidge breathed heavily,“Yeah, it is possible, only it’s going to hurt a lot. And I mean a lot.

"Okay great.” Lance said, “Because mine may be on the floor right now and I’m a… a little worried… about moving.”

“Then you need to give yourself stitches without anything to numb the pain. Can you manage a needle and thread?”

Lance smiled to himself, “You know what they called me back in the Garrison? 'The Tailor’ bec-”

“No one called you that.” Pidge interrupted him, “Now, can you handle a needle and thread or not?”

He shook his head, which only added to the list of places that were hurting, “Probably not, but I don’t think I have a choice…”

Gracelessly, he managed to somehow fit the thread into a needle, and he resisted the urge to tell Pidge that he can actually thread the needle, thank you very much and began stabbing himself repeatedly because he couldn’t get the needle to go in the right place.

His vision was growing black around the edges, “Hey, guys?”

“Yeah?” Everyone responded quickly.

“I… I don’t think I can stop this bleeding. I don’t… I don’t know how to give myself stitches. I can barely see anymore, and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.”

“Lance, all you need to do is give yourself basic stitches.” Keith told him, “We will be there within two minutes. We can see parts of Blue, but not all of her. Just hang on a little longer.”

Lance coughed, and more of his blood spilled out of him, “I just want all of you to know that I have had such a great time out here in space with-”

“No!” Hunk yelled, “You’re not going to give us the damn, ‘I can’t go on speech’ and tell us all how much you love us. That’s something that you can do when we’re all back and safe in the castle, and you can tell us as much as you want. Now give yourself those last few stitches that could possibly save your life and wait for us to get to you.”

Groaning, Lance pushed himself up straighter in his chair and gripped the needle between his fingers. Slowly, he pressed his skin together, and agonizingly slowly he stitched the wound shut.

He was drenched in blood, sweat, and tears, quite literally when the team found him, his hand still holding that needle like a lifeline.

#badthingshappenbingo #langst #lance #angst #whump #prompt #send me a prompt #voltron #vld #lance (voltron)#lance mclain #self-surgery #my writing

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i-write-shakespeare-not-disney · 7 years ago

Text

The New Romantics ch. 8

(If you have songs I can add play to a playlist for this fic please let me know!!)

Formerly known as Frenemies

Part 1 Here

Part 2 Here

Part 3 Here

Part 4 Here

Part 5 Here

Part 6 Here

Part 7 Here

click the OP if the read more link doesn’t show.

A HUGE GINORMOUS GREAT BIG FUCKING THANK YOU TO @klancedup for commissioning me for a part 8!!!!! You were my first commission, and I really hope this chapter meets your expectations <3

Remember, you can commission me for continuation of stories or a new story by transferring money through my Facebook (Ally Phoenix Lopez) !!

Reaching the castle again that night was emotionally draining for everyone. No one wanted to leave their family, but they knew they had a job to do. It was easier now that their families knew they were alive at least. Shiro and Allura helped Keith lug his new books to his room, and Keith couldn’t help but read as he walked with a stack of books under his arms.

He had randomly grabbed a book called We Are the Ants, and he was enraptured. He’d already read the poetry book he’d first grabbed which left him with chills. And he was still listening to the music from his iPod.

While the others had gone to bed, Keith stayed in his room, reading his book until he heard a knock at the door. “Come in!” he shouted.

The door slid open and he looked over to see Lance coming into his room. His eyes skimmed the room and his eyebrows went up in shock. “Whoa.”

“Pidge let me borrow some books.”

Lance nodded and walked over to the bed. “May I?” Keith nodded and pulled his legs in to give him space. “Um, Becca forgot to give you this. For when the iPod runs out.” He handed over a charger and then held up a plastic bag Keith hadn’t noticed. “Also, Maria and my mom wanted to give you this. I told them you like drawing and….” He handed the bag over.

Frowning, Keith looked in and gasped. He began pulling out the items one by one. Erasers, charcoal pencils, regular pencils, colored pencils, pastels, two sketchbooks, and a pack of brush pens. “How did they…? Why?”

Lance smiled and shrugged. “We have our ways. My mom really liked you. She wanted you to have a way to calm down. You said you feel better when you draw.” Keith nodded and smiled as he looked at his new supplies. He was already itching to start with the pastels. He was ready to see the smear of colors on his fingers until a page came alive with bursts of blues and reds and purples. Before he could get them out of their packaging though, Lance nudged his leg lightly to get his attention. Keith looked at him, finding a solemn expression on his face. “Keith, I-I’m sorry if that girl being there made you upset. I didn’t know-”

“That girl? You mean Rosa?” Lance blinked in surprise and Keith rolled his eyes. “Maria told me who she was.”

Lance sighed and nodded. “Yeah. The only one who ever liked her was Papa. I don’t even know why I ever liked her. She’s so shallow.” Keith snorted and Lance looked at him. “What?”

Keith shook his head and crossed his arms. “A girl finally refuses to leave your side and you don’t like her? You know that kiss suggested otherwise.” He shrugged. “But I guess you can kiss someone without liking them. We used to do that all the time.” He couldn’t help the blush that filled his cheeks, so he busied himself with unwrapping his art supplies.

It was quiet for a while, and Keith realized he was desperately hoping Lance would just lean forward and kiss him again. He wanted to hear him say that he didn’t like Rosa, but he did like him and that kissing him was different. He wanted Lance to take him by surprise and just kiss him like he’d read about in his book, wanted to feel what the poems described.

But Lance didn’t move. Because Lance didn’t like him. And they were just friends, and that was supposed to be enough.

“Can I stay with you?” he heard Lance whisper. He looked up to see his eyes pooling with tears. “I just… really miss my mom and I know the deal was coming back, but… I wish I’d stayed. I won’t bother you. I’ll just watch you draw. I could really use a friend right now.”

Keith fought back the urge to caress his cheek and nodded. He scooted over for Lance and set down his new things under the bed, keeping a sketchbook and the pastels with him as he scooted against the wall.

As he placed a pastel against the page, he felt a slight pressure against his shoulder and felt Lance’s hair tickle his face. “Is this okay?” Lance asked with a sniff. Keith hummed in affirmation and Lance settled against him more comfortably. Keith took a breath and ignored the speed of his heart and the rush coursing through his veins.

Who knew a crush could be so similar to the adrenaline he felt during a battle?

Keith leaned his head against the crown of Lance’s head and began to bring his page to life.

By the time he’d smeared, blended, and accented everything he needed, his hands were coated in different colors. He’d simply created the view of space with blues and purples and black, sprinkled it with stars, and smeared ion beams and purple canon blasters across the page. It was soothing and disturbing at the same time.

A tan hand turned his own over and Keith caught his breath as slender fingers trace his. “You have art hands,” Lance whispered sleepily. “It suits you.”

Keith managed a chuckle and curled his fingers, only barely holding Lance’s where they rested on his palm. “Go to sleep. You sound tired.” He pulled the blanket up on him, a sign to tell him he was welcome to stay the night. Lance shuffled down and turned onto his side, eyes shut. “Goodnight,” Keith whispered.

His eyes fluttered open, bright blue meeting Keith’s and sending a shock through him. “Night, Mullet.”

As soon as Lance’s breathing evened out, Keith turned to a new page and cleared his hands as best he could on his shirt. Then he picked out light blues, soft pinks, white, and soft yellows before beginning to fill the page.

As he drew, he thought of Lance’s eyes. Of how bright and full of life they could be when he was happy. How cold and determined they were when he was fighting. How icy and chilling and distant they could be when he was angry. How welcoming they were when he smiled, while being intimidating the second he scowled.

He had never thought of how ambiguous blue could be before.

Keith was nodding off in his sitting position as he blended his colors, so he managed to set his art aside before plopping down and pressing himself against the wall and succumbing to sleep.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when he was awoken by the soft touch of warm fingers against his face. He opened his eyes and made out Lance’s shadow, his eyes bright in the darkness of the room. He scooted closer and Keith shivered as his thigh pressed between his legs and up against his crotch.

“Why are you so far away from me?” Lance whispered into his ears.

“What are you doing?” Keith stammered.

He didn’t get a response as Lance’s lips pressed against his throat, sucking softly. Keith let himself relax and sighed as he exposed his neck a little more. Lance’s hand trailed down to his jeans and slipped his under after unbuttoning them. Keith gasped as Lance’s hand ghosted over his growing hard-on over his boxers and he gripped Lance’s shoulder.

“What happened to being just friends?” he gasped.

Lance smiled and pulled his hand back enough to stop touching him. “You want me to stop?” Keith jerked his hips forward, which was all the answer Lance needed. He slipped under his boxers and cupped him, making Keith whimper. “I want you to fuck me. Can you do that for me?” Keith nodded and gripped his face, kissing him almost ferally.

As he did, Keith was slipped out of his jeans and boxers, and Lance clambering onto him, hands roaming under his shirt. He felt the curve of Lance’s ass against the tip of his cock, and he gripped his hips stop him. “What are you doing? Don’t hurt yourself. I can-”

“I already spread myself for you,” Lance murmured against his lips. “Come on, Keith, I need you.” Keith nodded and Lance began seating himself down against him. He was leaking precome and it was smearing his shirt, but neither of them wanted to take the time to remove their shirts. He was warm and his entrance enveloped Keith so perfectly, Keith could hardly take it.

Lance began to rock himself, letting out little pants as he let his head fall back. Keith watched him and thrust his hips up to settle himself deep inside, moaning aloud with each sound of skin against skin. Lance had one hand on one of Keith’s thighs, fingernails digging deep into the flesh. His other was gripping the hem of Keith’s shirt as he bounced on him, face scrunched up in desperate need.

Keith pulled himself into a sitting position, pulling Lance along with him as he pressed against the wall. “You’re beautiful,” he breathed as Lance continued to fuck himself at his preferred pace. “So beautiful, Lance. Look at me.” His eyes opened to meet Keith’s and Keith couldn’t help himself from gripping his hipbones and fucking up into him mercilessly as Lance turned to mush against him.

He was so close, but it wasn’t enough. Lance was gasping and letting out mewls of pleasure as Keith thrust up and pulled him down. “H-harder,” he begged. “Fuck, Keith.” He wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders and kissed him. “Don’t let me go. Don’t let me go.” Keith shook his head and flipped him over, pushing his legs up as he slowed his pace. “Wanna be yours. All yours, Keith please.”

“Mine,” he growled. “You’re mine.” He pounded into him, making the bed springs creak and snap, the mattress thudded against the wall almost comically, but Keith didn’t care. Lance was screaming under him, begging for more, and Keith could only think that Lance was his and only his.

He pulled away and shuffled down to wrap his mouth around Lance’s cock. Before he could even push himself all the way down, Lance was releasing into him, catching him by surprise.

Keith sat up in bed, coughing almost violently. Beside him, Lance sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Keith? You okay?”

Keith waved away the question, trying to catch his breath, still reeling from the vividness of his dream and the things that had been said, and the fact that it was just a fucking dream. Lance touched his shoulder, and Keith gasped, curling into himself. He could feel his boner pressing against his leg in his jeans and groaned because not only could he do nothing to fix it, but even if he could it would be nothing compared to what his dream was like.

“Keith?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, voice hoarse. “Sorry I woke you.”

Lance was wincing at the light. Keith hadn’t turned them off when he fell asleep. “Do you want some water or something?”

“No, Lance, I’m okay,” he snapped. He sighed and rubbed his face. “I actually need to use the bathroom.” He slid to the edge of the bed and walked to the door so Lance couldn’t see the front of his jeans before he bolted.

He slammed the door shut in the bathroom stall and risked an inquisitive hello. It was the middle of the night, so he was certain no one was in here. He shimmied his jeans down, hating himself but needing a form of release, of satisfaction.

With memories of his dream, he managed to stifle his groans until he was panting into his hand, shivering slightly. He cleaned himself up and left the stall, splashing his face with water and staring at himself in the mirror. He took a breath and went back to his room.

Lance was gone.

His sketchbook was open and on the back of the cover page was a small note in Lance’s writing.

Thanks for letting me sleep here for a while. I’ll leave your bed to you for the rest of the night. ~Lance

Keith couldn’t help the disappointment he felt. He sat on the bed and gripped his hair. He didn’t know why he had to have fallen for Lance McClain, of all people. How was it that the same boy who had driven him nuts and pushed every button on him by being irritating was now the one giving Keith wet dreams, jitters, and making him blush?

Then suddenly it clicked.

Keith didn’t like him. He just thought he did. Because Lance kissed him, touched him, had sex with him, said the right things. But if he hadn’t? If they hadn’t simply become friends with benefits, would they be where they were? Would Keith still feel the things he felt?

His feelings were superficial. They had been concocted out of the misinterpretation of their actions. Just because Lance was a good kisser and had been the only one to touch him in such intimate ways didn’t mean he really cared for him. It didn’t mean they were compatible. It didn’t mean Keith really liked him. He just thought he did.

And if Lance had gone to Hunk? Or Shiro? Or… Allura? Lance would’ve been messing around with them, and Keith wouldn’t feel any of this. For crying out loud, Lance didn’t even like boys before his sexual frustration began, and Keith had never really liked anybody before he decided to experiment with Lance.

There was nothing solid. And there was no way that Keith would ever be able to bring himself to believe Lance if he miraculously liked him. Because none of it was real.

His feelings were just a stupid illusion. He had been so starved of touch and affection and Lance offered it, said the right things at the right time, and now….

Keith covered his eyes and jerked back when his hands came away wet. He’d been crying…. And now there was no stopping the sobs that began to rack his body.

***

The following day, Keith spent his time training. He was too angry to keep reading, to stressed to calm down enough to draw something unrelated to Lance, and he just wanted to let out his anger.

He returned the next day, and the next, and the next. Before he knew it, he had returned to the same spot he’d isolated himself in for the past week with as little interaction with the others as possible.

Lance had stopped by to see him, and Keith had to remind himself not to feel anything because it was all just a stupid trick of his mind.

“Are you gonna eat? Lunch is ready.”

“In a bit,” he answered, tying his hair back as he prepared for the next level.

“Well, do you wanna train together maybe? I’ve been working on-”

“It’s fine. I kind of need to work on individual combat.” He turned away and started the next sequence. Lance’s presence emphasized his frustration and bitterness, making it easier to get through the level and to the next. He turned back to see Lance waiting, looking uncomfortable. “You can go eat. I’ll be a while.”

“Are you mad at me?” Keith shook his head. No, this wasn’t Lance’s fault. This was his own. His mind got ahead of him. He had made his mistake. “Then what gives?”

Keith turned and crossed his arms. “What, now I can’t take a day for myself? Can’t train alone or be more than five feet away from you for longer than-”

“Don’t you go there with me, you know that’s not what I mean,” Lance growled, stepping forward. Keith stepped back, immediately scowling. “Ever since Rosa got to my party back home you’ve been acting weird. Angry or something, and I just want you to tell me why. I won’t get upset, just-”

“Lance, do you really think that much of yourself? What, you think seeing some girl kiss you bothered me enough to be angry with you?” Keith stepped forward, closing the space, keeping his hands clenched at his sides. “I’ve fucked you and had you begging for more, Lance. I’m sure that’s way more than Rosa ever did for you.” Lance’s lips parted, and his cheeks reddened. “Don’t flatter yourself and think I’m desperate for your attention. I’ve got more important things on my mind.” He turned away, and started the next level.

Then Lance turned him back around and shoved him. “Don’t tell me you’re not mad at me then start insulting me. I just wanted to know what was bothering you.”

“Right now, you,” Keith scowled. “Just leave me alone!”

“Why are you avoiding me? You think we haven’t noticed that you keep holing yourself up in here like a 13 year old going through a scene phase?” Keith scoffed and turned away again. Lance pulled him back and Keith gripped his wrist tightly.

“Let. Me. Go.”

But Lance wasn’t backing down. His eyes were icy, piercing. “Okay, if it’s not about Rosa, then what? We were doing fine until that day.”

Keith snatched himself free and glared at him. “Did you ever think that maybe this isn’t about you? Not everything is, Loverboy.” Lance winced, but kept his jaw set.

“You said you wouldn’t push me away anymore-”

“Oh my God, shut up!” Keith shouted, shoving him back. He was overwhelmed with memories and emotions and the fact that Lance wouldn’t go away wasn’t helping. “This isn’t about you! This has nothing to fucking do with you!”

“Okay, fine! Whatever the hell it is, just talk to me!”

Keith felt his limbs shaking and a wave of dizziness. “Stop acting like you’re my friend,” he growled. Lance stared at him in shock and anger. “You only needed me to get you off and that’s the only reason you gave a shit about me, and I don’t need you pretending to give a shit about me right now.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Lance shouted in exasperation. “You’re always doing this, we’re always going back and forth. It’s like you want to isolate yourself, like you want to play a victimized loner-”

Keith reacted without fully processing what he was doing until he’d done it. Lance curled into himself, holding his jaw. He looked back at Keith with so much anger, and Keith knew he should apologize, but he didn’t want to. He was angry. He was angry at Lance for doing this to him.

Lance looked like he was holding himself back using every bit of will he had, but Keith didn’t want that. He wanted Lance to hit him back, to make Keith hate him so these stupid made up feelings would go away.

“Keith. Don’t.” Keith glared at him, lip curled and jaw set. Lance looked at him with those piercing eyes and took a breath. “I’m sorry for what I said. Okay? But let’s…. Please, just tell me how I can help you.”

He stepped forward, looking him in the eyes, and smirked, giving him a scoff. “Why would I want your help? Better yet, why are you bothering trying to help? Do you really have such a sad need for everyone to like you that-”

All of a sudden, Lance lunged forward, gripping his shirt and slamming him against the wall. Keith felt his head hit the wall and bounce off, but he only clenched his teeth. “You don’t know anything!” he shouted, and Keith swore he heard his voice break.

Still, he didn’t want to stop. He had where he wanted him. Just needed Lance to hurt him a little more so Keith could convince himself he hated him. So Keith could forget the pillow talk, the smiles, the touches. He shoved him off. “You sure about that? I know that you were so fucking lonely that you resorted to making me fuck you so you could feel like someone gave a shit for once. I know that no one back home likes your little girlfriend but you’re so desperate for someone to want you, you keep her around.”

Lance pulled back and swung, hitting Keith square in the eye, screaming for him to shut up. “You’re the one who came up to me offering to help like some fucking prostitute! You’re the one that came to my room because you couldn’t sleep without me. At least I’m not so touch starved I can’t even handle-” Keith shut him up by tackling him down to the floor, trying to hit where he could despite the pain in his eye. He felt Lance knee his stomach, felt himself get slammed onto the ground as Lance clambered onto him trying to block his hits. His face felt numb. Lance’s nose was bleeding.

No more words were spoken as they struggled on the ground, fueled by anger and hurt and insecurities.

Suddenly Pidge was screaming at them. “What the hell are you two doing! Stop it! Keith! Lance, get off!”

“Stay out of this!” Keith growled.

They continued their fight like primitive creatures, calling out ruthless insults, not even caring about who was seeing or who heard what. Keith kicked out and tossed Lance back, Keith’s leg and Lance’s elbow hitting Pidge in the process.

The green paladin turned red and snarled. “That’s it.” She barged out and the next thing Keith knew she was back, and there was a blinding pain in his side as the two split apart and Pidge was holding her glowing green bayard. “What. The fuck. Is happening?”

“Nothing,” Lance muttered, wiping his nose. His eyes were red. Keith pressed a finger to his cheekbone and winced when a spark of pain spread. Pidge stared at them and frowned.

“Guys, seriously. I thought-”

“Jesus, just drop it, Pidge,” Keith snapped.

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Lance hissed back.

Pidge looked at them worriedly and shook her head. “You guys have never gotten this bad before. Even before you… became friends.”

Keith stood up and scowled at the ground. “We were never friends.”

He left without a glance back, but he heard Lance shout, “Fuck you, Keith!” in the most hateful, raspy voice he’d ever heard out of him.

Keith kept walking, shoving past Hunk and avoiding Shiro as he walked the halls until he got to his room. He shoved all his art under the bed and wrapped himself in covers. Only… the covers smelled like Lance. They had the scent of some exotic fruit detergent and the sweet smell of his cologne. It smelled like Earth too.

Keith held back stupid tears and gripped the covers between his hands. He swore he wasn’t trying to smell them. It was just the necessary gasps of breath as he tried to control the painful knot in his throat. Because Lance didn’t want him. Didn’t really like him. Because Lance would never lay in this bed with him again. Because Keith would never have someone’s arms wrapped around him in the middle of the night, or wake up with the weight of someone’s legs tangled with his own. Because there was no one to keep him warm at night anymore.

He wouldn’t cry. Not over Lance. Not over a feeling that wasn’t even real. But maybe a little self-indulgence would be okay. Nobody would know.

So he laid down, pulling the covers up to his face. He didn’t care that it was hot. He didn’t care that his face hurt and that his hands felt bruised and swollen. He just wanted to hold on to this scent. This scent that was so welcoming and comforting, so Lance. At least while he could.

He faded in and out of sleep for a while until there was a small knock at his door. Keith didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure if he was hoping it was or wasn’t Lance. The knock came again, more insistently.

“Look, I know you’re awake, Keith. Let me in.”

Pidge. Keith frowned, walking over to let the door slide open. Pidge stood looking up at him with a plate of cookies, a first aid kit, and a bag of frozen something. “What are you doing?”

“I brought you comfort food and stuff to fix your face, duh,” she said. “Can I come in?” Keith sighed and shrugged, shuffling back to the bed. “What’s all the stuff under your bed?”

“Some art stuff Mrs. McClain sent me.” Pidge’s eyebrows went up and she walked over to sit on the bed with Keith. “Here, have a cookie. Hunk got some ingredients from home, so they should taste even better than usual.” Keith realized he hadn’t eaten in a long time, and the smell of the cookies was mouth-watering.

He grabbed one and stuffed it in his mouth, stifling a moan. He decided cookies were his favorite food. Pidge opened her first-aid kit and as she tore a pack open, the smell of disinfecting alcohol hit him. She dabbed it lightly along his eye, cheek, lip, and the bridge of his nose. He hissed but she remained focused.

“So…. You want to tell me what happened?”

He sighed and munched on another cookie. “Just an argument that got out of hand.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled away. The wipe was covered in specks of dried, brown blood. “I thought I already told you that you can’t bullshit me, Keith. I know Lance. He’s not violent. He’s a lot of talk, but….” She placed the bag of frozen something which was actually just an ice pack and placed it on eyes. “I thought you guys settled on being friends.”

He scoffed and said, “Yeah, just because we slept together. He never wanted to be my friend before. Now just because… all of that happened….” He shook his head. “And I don’t like him. I just think I do- or I thought I did. I don’t know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“If we hadn’t done what we did, I never would’ve started feeling these things. So these feelings can’t be real.”

She raised an eyebrow and bit her lip, trying to figure out how to phrase her next statement. “The thing is… you did do it. And the feelings did start. It’s like alternate dimensions. In one dimension, you guys didn’t and remained teammates that bicker and protect each other. In this one, you guys hooked up and ended up having feelings. That doesn’t make them fake.”

He pushed the ice pack away from his face and threw his arms up. “Yes, it does, Pidge! If he’d gone to Hunk or Shiro, then he would be acting all sweet and romantic with them, and I’d still be that annoying guy he wants to one-up.” Pidge winced and shook her head. “I should have never started feeling these things. And they’re just… influenced by him, they’re not even… natural!” He groaned and let his head fall, gripping his hair between his fingers.

Pidge tilted his head up and moved his hands. “Lemme see,” she said gently. She coated his wounds in anti-inflammatory ointment and placed a stitch band-aid on his nose and two on his cheek. “You know, he was crying when I went to see him,” she murmured.

Keith hated that his heart clenched at that. He leaned his head against the wall and felt the slight swell of his lip. “I want to hate him, Pidge. But even after beating the crap out of each other….”

“Feelings suck,” she said with a sigh. She ate a cookie and sat with her back against the wall. “I can tell you from experience that trying to ignore an emotion doesn’t make a difference. You gotta accept it. It’s easier to deal with life if you acknowledge it.”

“Experience?”

She shrugged. “It may be hard to believe, but I get crushes too, man.”

Granted, Keith had never considered Pidge having a love life. Maybe she had a boyfriend back home. Or girlfriend. Keith had never considered her sexuality either. Though, he supposed that was because she was so focused on finding Matt and getting things done. A love life seemed like the last thing on her mind.

“That makes sense,” he said. “Although, I’m not sure I can picture your type.”

Pidge laughed and shook her head. “Oh, like I could’ve ever pictured yours!” Keith stuck his tongue out at her. She smiled and blushed slightly. “I like guys that are smart and funny and honest and brave. Someone who can be your friend before wanting to be more. Trustworthy. Who gives great hugs and can nerd out with me and stay up with me when I’m hyper-focused on something. Then carries me to bed so I don’t get cricks in my neck.”

Keith furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Pidge’s face. She wasn’t looking at him, but she seemed lost in thought, her cheeks bright red. “That’s… specific.” She took a breath and turned away with a shrug. “Pidge, do you like Hunk?” She groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Look, I trusted you with my shitty feelings, it’s your turn.”

She looked at him and made a face before hiding it again. Then she nodded. “It just sucks, because I know him and Lance and Shiro all see me as the little sister, you know? I’m fifteen, I’m still a kid to all of you. It’s just two years! But I’m…. Well, me.”

“Is this what the makeup thing was about?” he asked.

“No. Not really. It wasn’t because of Hunk specifically, I just… wanted to look older. Not like… a twelve-year old boy.”

Keith smiled and felt a wave of sympathy towards her. “So… since when did you start liking him?”

She turned redder and bit her lip. “I don’t really know…. I guess countless nights sent together over equipment and graphs can do a number. And anytime I’m stressed he can make me laugh. I mean Lance does too, but I get more frustrated with him. They have different humor, and Hunk’s fits me more. I don’t know. Then he started lending me shirts to sleep in and… I was a goner.”

Keith smiled and nodded. “Feelings suck.”

She smiled and nodded. “Feelings suck.”

***

The following day, Keith was woken up to the sound of the castle alarm. He hurried out of bed and ran to the hangar, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Still, as he climbed into Red, he caught a glimpse of Lance before he put on his helmet.

His nose had a band-aid, his lip was cut and slightly swollen, and there was a square gauze taped to his temple. Keith felt his stomach flip as he got into the cockpit and started Red up.

“Alright team, we got a Galra attack on planet Arus again. There’s only one fleet, so we should be able to take them down quick,” Shiro said certainly.

“Uh, Shiro?” Pidge said as they reached the planet. “That looks like more than one fleet.”

“Oh no,” Hunk groaned. “Lance, on your right!” The blue lion dipped down and Hunk turned to blast away a Galra ship. “We’re spotted, we’ve been spotted guys.”

“It’s all right, nothing we can’t handle,” Shiro assured. “Let’s form Voltron and take these guys out. We have to keep the Arusians safe.”

“Let’s do it,” Pidge agreed. “Keith? Lance? You guys still with us?”

“Yep.”

“Yeah.”

There was a slight silence before Shiro said, “Alright then. Form Voltron.” The lions began their typical formation, but nothing happened. The lions weren’t coming together. “Why isn’t it working?”

“I think we all know why it’s not working,” Hunk muttered.

“Hunk, come on,” Pidge said.

“Well, we need to form Voltron if we want to take those fleets down, and obviously Keith is messing up the bonding!”

“Oh, what so it’s just my fault?” Keith snapped.

“Don’t yell at Hunk!” Lance shouted.

“You don’t talk to me.”

“Guys!” Shiro snapped. “Crap, watch out!” The lions fled in different directions as one of the fleets fired at them.

Keith heard Shiro shout in pain and panicked. “Shiro?”

“Keep them at bay. I’ll try to contact Allura and Coran,” he groaned. “Go! And stop fighting!”

“I hope you boys heard that,” Pidge said with annoyance. “Now let’s go.” Despite being the youngest, Keith couldn’t help but feel like she was the one keeping them in line at the moment.

Throughout the fight, Pidge was the one shouting orders, and the one who quickly shut down any attempts at a new argument. Shiro had gotten hurt with the blast his lion took since he took the blow of nearly the entire fleet while trying to get the others out of the way. Coran and Allura had brought up the castle ship and managed to fend off a few more fleets.

As much as Keith wanted to ignore and avoid Lance, he couldn’t help the instinct that came over when he saw a fleet get to close to the blue lion’s turned back. He immediately shot a fire beam then turned to throw another ship against two that were flying in with the lion’s jaw. He would be lying if he said he didn’t keep one eye on Lance for the rest of the fight.

Finally they were able to get back to the castle ship, each tired and jostled since the fight took much longer without Voltron. Once they were out of their suits, they met in the lounge. Shiro stood beside Allura with his arm in a sling. He’d dislocated his shoulder. Keith thought he could fix that in a healing pod, but simply chose not to for a guilt effect.

“What happened?” Allura demanded, looking each paladin in the eye. Keith and Lance were on opposite ends, with Pidge beside Keith and Hunk beside Lance. Pidge didn’t even seem fazed by the fact that she was next to Hunk. Keith had to ask her how she managed that.

“We struggled a bit,” Pidge finally said. “We were just distracted. Tired.”

“Pidge, don’t cover for h- them,” Hunk said.

“Oh, don’t think I don’t know something happened between these two,” she snapped, pointing a finger between Keith and Lance. “It’s all over your bruised faces. Call me crazy, but I thought your stupid little feud was past us. Now, why in the world did you two decide to rearrange each other’s faces?”

Shiro put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. Coran was speechless, leaning against the wall. “I know you’ve all had your differences. But none of you have ever gone so far as to hurt each other,” he said. Keith clenched his jaw and risked a glance at Lance who was looking down at his hands. “What’s happening?”

“Keith’s the one who threw the first punch, ask him!” Hunk said. “We all know you’re the temperamental one, but this is too far even for you, Keith.”

“Don’t talk to me like you know me,” Keith answered, curling his lip. “You don’t know anything!”

“You need to stop talking to him like that,” Lance said, standing up. Keith stood up if only to minimize the amount he had to crane his neck.

“Oh, what don’t tell me he’s next?” Keith spat.

“Whoa! Okay,” Pidge said standing up.

“Stay out of it, Pidge,” they said at the same time.

Hunk stood up and shoved them each opposite ways. “We don’t need a reenactment, and you definitely need to leave Pidge alone unless you want her to taze you again.”

“What?” Shiro asked.

“Enough!” Allura shouted so loudly, all of them fell back into a seat. Shiro took a step away from her and Coran’s eyes widened. “You’re paladins! You’re not supposed to be acting like this! I understand you’re all young, but with this war going on, I’d expect much better out of all of you. All those bonding and training exercises-”

“You don’t understand, Allura,” Lance said tiredly. His voice shook, making Keith’s chest constrict. “You don’t have to get involved-”

“No, Lance, I think we do,” Shiro interrupted. “We’re not stupid. All of us know what’s been going on between you and Keith.” Keith stared at Shiro wide-eyed and with a deep blush on his cheeks. He glanced at Lance. For that moment their arguing and fighting was forgotten. They were just both embarrassed and panicked that their secret had obviously not been a secret.

“Welp, the cat’s out of the bag. I’m off to take a shower,” Pidge said awkwardly.

“Oh, no you don’t, Katie. Sit down. This is a team problem,” Shiro said. She huffed and plopped down.

Hunk shifted and crossed his arms. “Since when are their love lives a team problem? Sorry, buddy.”

“Whoa, love?”

“No one said anything about love.”

“It’s really not a team thing.”

“It wasn’t serious.”

Keith and Lance protested over each other, refusing to look at the other. Shiro sighed and rubbed his head with his Galra hand. “Guys, enough. No your romantic endeavors aren’t our business. Until they interfere with our jobs as defenders of the universe. And being unable to form Voltron because you two are angry with each other is not good.”

“Why don’t we start from the cause of the problem?” Coran said calmly. “What happened in the breakup?”

Keith hid his face and groaned as Lance huffed. “We were never dating!” A few confused looks between the Alteans and Shiro were exchanged. “There was no breakup!”

“Then why the hostility?” Allura asked in confusion, taking a seat at the other side of Lance. Keith felt a hot spark of anger but he snuffed it out. He peeked at Pidge and tried to mimic her tired expression.

“That, I don’t know.”

“Like I said, Keith threw the first punch. If you interrogate anyone, interrogate him,” Hunk said.

“Hunk, would you please stay out of it,” Pidge hissed, nudging him.

“Don’t tell me you’re taking his side. You’ve known Lance way longer than Keith and-”

“That’s not the point! Keith has a side too, and you’re just-”

“Oh, do tell me what the fuck his side is,” Lance said, leaning forward.

Keith sat straighter and touched Pidge’s arm. “Don’t you talk to her like that, you asshole,” he snapped.

“I’m the asshole?” he shouted, standing up again.

Keith stood, but before he could respond, Pidge was between them, facing Lance. “Aren’t you the one who kept telling everyone to cut Keith some slack because communication isn’t his thing? What now just because he’s not communicating with you it pisses you off?” Hunk stood up and put himself between Pidge and Lance. Keith noticed her tense. “Hunk. Please. You have to at least admit that I have a point! I’m not taking sides, but Lance-”

“Pidge, you don’t get it. It’s more complicated than that. You’re too young to get it, but-”

“Excuse me?” she breathed. Keith bit his lip and looked between them. Pidge scoffed and nodded, turning away and rushing out of the lounge. Keith glared at Hunk and followed after Pidge.

He heard her sniffling, and called out for her. But he wasn’t able to reach her until he’d reached the hangar where she was trying to get the green lion to open for her. She was crying, which was a sight Keith definitely never wanted to see. He hated seeing her so upset, especially knowing that the two people she was closest to were the two people she couldn’t be with.

He walked over to her, touched her shoulder, and suddenly she had her face buried in his shirt and her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Keith sighed and wrapped his arms around her gently, feeling her shake.

“I told you. I’m just a kid.”

“He was just defending Lance,” Keith assured. “He doesn’t….” But he couldn’t finish what he was saying because he didn’t know Hunk. So instead, he hugged her a little tighter. “We’ll be okay.”

She sniffed and he heard a muffled, “Feelings suck,” in his shirt.

Keith chuckled and leaned down to rest his cheek on the crown of her head. “Feelings suck.”

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#this has a lot of dialogue #but thats because of the banter #everyone is being a dramatic shit #hidge mention #klance #laith #otp #smut #but just a little #feedback is appreciated #thank you!#vld #voltron

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