#the medical neglect gets more and more glaring as i get older and actually tend to my health

[slippery-minghus]

oh lol remember that time i got a concussion and my parents didn't bother to take me to a doctor until like a week later, and only after i insisted. what was up with that

[makeup-wonder-woman]

A Soulmate to Remember Chap 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Pairing: Red Hood/Jason Todd X Reader

TW: Stitches, Blood mention, a few curses

Word Count:1,850-ish

Chapter 4-

You held on for your life, but soon realized that you didn't need to. Red Hood was actually a excellent driver that was probably going easy on you. Your leg still stung and was still bleeding, so I knew that he was speeding and taking back roads. You lowered your head onto his back and relaxed a bit. His arm shifted and then you felt his chest start to vibrate as he talked. You let your eyes close and relaxed, knowing this would be fun to explain to your mother, whenever you got to see her next. Sooner than expected, Red Hood cut a corner and drove into a hidden tunnel. You had tensed when the two of you were suddenly engulfed in darkness, but he somehow took one hand off of the bike to pat your arm.

  He slowed as you entered the light at the end of the tunnel. You shut your eyes tight at the sudden change. You felt the bike slow and Red Hood parked and climbed off, and before you had the chance to say anything, swept you off of the bike,"Hey," you yelped,"You know I can walk for myself! I swear you're being such a-"

  There were footsteps, multiple sets, that entered what appeared to be a parking area. You were quite confused, You thought there was a giant T-Rex and other... you guessed trophies... in a section. You could tell you were underground, with the lighting. You had finished yanking the motorcycle helmet off when four people entered the room, and you knew three out of four, and their appearance silenced you.

 One was Mrs. Wayne, the other two were her youngest son's, Tim and Damian. The fourth person was in no doubt their butler, who you had never seen before. Mrs. Wayne smiled at you,"Hello Y/N, welcome to the Batcave."

  Your eyes were wide,"What. Is. Going. On?"

  The butler took a step forward,"I'm afraid that explanations will have to be put on hold for a moment. May I have a look at your injury?"

  You glared at Red Hood,"Sure, if he lets me down." Red Hood's eyes narrowed, but he complied anyway and gently set you down. You sighed,"Thank you."

 The Butler lead you down the short hallway- you were limping a bit but wouldn’t accept help from anyone- to a small secluded area with a set of stainless steel chairs and a table, with one of those trays for Doctor/Dentist instruments. It's only had three walls, and the fourth lead into what appeared to be a computer room. I could see Red Hood, Mrs. Wayne and her two other sons as they waited in the garage.

 The butler helped you sit and you shifted to the side so he can see at the still bleeding wound, the cape keeping most of your skin from coming into contact with the cold metal.

 The butler held his now latex-gloved hand out to you,"May I," he motioned to your dress' skirt.

You nodded your consent,"Yeah, I've got shorts on under."

 Alfred lifted the skirt and touched your leg, the angry red line that takes a path from right at the beginning of your dress' hemline and travels upward until it ended mid thigh. You tried to distract yourself,"So," you hissed out,"What's your name?"

 The older man gave you a soft smile,"Alfred, a butler for the Waynes for a few generations."

  You smiled,"That seems quite awe-inspiring. They always keep you on your toes, Mister Alfred?"

 His smile brightened,"Now, Now, Alfred will do. After all, you are Master Todd's Soul Mate. And yes, everyone in this family does tend to be very reckless. A trait, I do ever so hope you don't possess."

"Probably not. Never really been in too much trouble," You said, letting it sink in that Jason Todd was your soul mate, but feeling the need to clarify, you asked,"Red Hood is Jason?"

 Alfred raised an eyebrow,"Did the young master neglect to tell you his name?"

  You winced as he cleaned the graze- which is basically a flesh wound at this point- but, happened to be pretty deep,"Well in his defense, it was really bad timing and I didn't give him mine."

 Alfred hmphed and you had a feeling you would really like him. He analyzed your leg, thinking, before saying,"You'll need stitches."

You felt your stomach sink- for what felt like the hundredth time that night,"R-really?"

 Alfred nodded and removed his gloves,"I'll have to get supplies and tell the Mistress," he looked you over," I take it from your expression that you've never had stitches before- Would you like me to get Master Todd to be here?"

  You chewed on your lip,"Not preferably no. Could it be Mrs. Wayne?"

 Alfred nodded,"I don't blame you one bit Miss. L/N. I'll be back."

 He left you alone with your thoughts and you started rubbing your temples. Of Course. Of Freaking Course. You got the bad boy, who disappears and fakes his own death for a good number of years. And then comes back with a new hair do and attitude. Also, he’s the black sheep of the family. How on earth is this guy gonna complete you? You got that he saved your life, but um, he’s your soul mate? God help you.

You looked at your reflection of the table and sighed, at least you don't totally look like a mess, your bun somehow stayed well put despite being under the helmet, and you couldn't see the socks hidden in it. You could tell that your make up was far from perfect now, but it was still holding up. The power of priming and setting spray.

 It took maybe three minutes for Alfred and Mrs. Wayne to return. Mrs. Wayne looked somewhat displeased, but when she saw you her face brightened,"Hello Y/N," she smiled, and pulled a chair up next to you,"You wanted to see me?"

  You blushed,"Well, you're the only other woman here and I... Well, you really look like a mom, and since mine can't be here for this major milestone in my life, I'm sure she'd be honored for you to step in."

 Mrs. Wayne let out a giggle,"I take it you've never gotten stitched before."

  You sighed,"I've hardly had a bruise or scrape before today."

  Alfred readied his things, "Alright Miss. Y/N, I am ready to begin when you are."

 Mrs. Wayne took your hand and then hands you a towel with the other,"In case you need it," she whispered,"I don't recommend trying to bite your arm or hand, you'll just hurt yourself more.

  You nodded again, and close your eyes to prepare yourself and tried not to think about it. But, when the needle enters you skin, you couldn’t help but let out a small scream,"Ahhh!"

You shoved the towel into your mouth, and tears start forming at your eyes. Mrs. Wayne offered you a comforting smile, and you wonder just how many times she'd have to hold hands- or do the stitching herself.

 Mrs. Wayne doesn't hold the silence for long, soon she began talking to you, while wiping the tears away from your eyes,"If you are worried about your family, I just got a report from my husband that they're all fine, but your mother had a few panic attacks so she's in the hospital. Your mother knows that you've met your soulmate, but thinks that he helped you flee the scene."

You nodded, trying not to look at the needle as it enters your skin again, leaving a red hot trail of pain in its wake. Mrs. Wayne continues,"I would like to apologize if Jason's come off on the wrong foot, he's a good young man, but he's been through a lot." You raises an eyebrow but nodded again, but she doesn't continue in that direction and turned to another,"I sent him to go get clothes for you to wear. They're my old ones. He called us on his way here to let us know you'd be coming."

  You cringed, and nearly squirm out of the chair as another stitch was started and you’re screaming into the towel. Mrs. Wayne stands and held you down and everyone froze until the pain passes. You’re sweating buckets at this point and panting. Mrs. Wayne smiled down at you,"I knew it'd tear him up to see you like this. Even if you didn't mean to protect him, I'd like to thank you for having me here instead of him."

 This time the tears are coming to fast for her to wipe away. She whispered to you as they began again,"That's it, you're doing very well Y/N, you're so strong. Only a few more, hang in there- I know you can."

  It seems like for forever, but really it only takes Alfred about twenty minutes to stitch you up. He threw the tools down and removes his gloves, and Mrs. Wayne covers the stitches with bandages and finishes on your scratches and thorns that had caught you,"There we go! You did beautifully Miss. L/N, Say any treat you can name and it's yours."

 It does the trick and you smile," Well a pain medication would be wonderful right about now. And Chocolate."

Alfred laughed,"I think I have a piece of double chocolate cake with your name on it."

"Oooo," Mrs. Wayne cooed," And it's the last piece too, but you deserve it. I'll tell the boys not to touch it. Would you like to see Jason?"

You nod and carefully stood,"I guess. He's got my clothes right?"

Mrs. Wayne checked her watch as she walked next to you,"My husband should be back at any moment, and I'm afraid he and Jason are having a bit of a disagreement."

"Is it about me?"

 She paused in her stride,"Not entirely, but I'm afraid you are a factor," she throws her arm around your shoulders and sighs," But it's been going on for a while, so don't blame yourself."

  You nod and both of you entered the garage area, Tim -who's changed into more comfortable clothes instead of his Tux-and Damian sat on a couch you hadn't noticed before. Jason sat on a well cushioned chair with his back to you,"-all I'm saying is," Damian said off-handedly,"Father will not be pleased with you, Todd."

Mrs. Wayne cleared her throat, and they all fell silent, in fact her two younger sons shoot up. You swallow as Jason sits up, he turns to face you, and it's hard to believe this is the Red Hood, he's got the nice chiseled Wayne face (okay, jawline is everything but come on), even if he isn't a real Wayne, the same black hair- except with a white streak- but beautiful light green eyes. He stands and slowly trudges over to the two of you, hugging and kissing his adoptive mother,"Thanks Ma."

 He turned to you,"I know I didn't get to tell you earlier-"

You smiled, suddenly very tired, but still awake enough to function,"It's okay, Jason," You held out your hand and he shook it," I'm Y/N L/N, your soul mate. I'm sorry that I called you a Jackass earlier."

Tags: @welcometothecity, @miss-nerdalots, @marvelsimaginess, @naturalnation123  (let me know if I missed you/you want to be tagged) so I can add you to the list! Hope you enjoyed!

[noblegambit]

Pocket Sized, Chapter 1

So I decided to cross-post my new klance fic on tumblr and Ao3, because I guess I’ll get more reach that way.

Ao3, Chapter 1

Also, I already have fanart because I’ve gushed about this au to @nalciel already and I love it <3 <3

Summary:

“Keith! I’m down here!” “Lance? Lance, where are you!?” “Over here!!” Keith did his best to follow the sound of the tiny voice, so jarringly opposite from Lance’s usual loud and obnoxious tone. He scans the tiny outcropping of rock, looking for his (ex) childhood friend’s ugly mug. “Down here!” Down? Keith glances down, and just about trips on a rock. A tiny Lance, no taller than an inch and wearing nothing but a leaf around his hips, was jumping up and down and waving his arm frantically to get Keith’s attention. Keith blinks once, and blinks again. “Wha…? Lance!?”

or,

In which Lance shrinks, and his ex-best friend Keith has to figure out how to get Lance back to normal.

Chapter 1

Lance winces, leaning back in his seat and letting out a screech of a yawn as he stretches. He blinks tired eyes and stares at the drool stain on the homework he was supposed have finished last night. “Musta fallen asleep,” he mutters. A glance out the window of his bedroom exposes the bright morning sunlight to his retinas, and Lance hisses through his teeth.

Lance’s attention is drawn to the sound of a door opening and closing outside his window. He scoots his chair backward and peers outside just in time to see his neighbor, Keith, exit his house, kendo stick in hand. It was about that time of the morning, Lance figures, when Keith would go outside for a morning workout and kendo form practice.

Lance’s expression twists into a sad grimace. He and Keith don’t talk much. Not as much as they used to, anyway. Once upon a time, the two boys were glued to the hip, and wherever you saw one, the other would not be far behind. But something had happened when they entered high school; Keith became suddenly distant, and no matter what Lance tried to do, Keith never responded, and their friendship flickered out of existence.

“Lance, come down for breakfast!”

Lance pushes back from the window and slams the laptop shut. He needs to stop thinking about Keith, and what happened to their friendship. It’s Keith’s fault anyway, for just abandoning him like that. Keith doesn’t deserve Lance’s friendship.

At least, that’s what Lance tells himself.

“Good morning!” Lance says, bounding into the kitchen. His mother looks up from the stove, and Lance can smell his mama’s special omelets. His sister is sitting at the table, legs swinging as she gnaws on buttered toast. Lance’s father sits across from her, reading the paper and nursing his morning coffee.

“Lance you’re going to be late again!”

“No I won’t, mama, you should know this by now.”

“It’s already seven thirty, and your ‘morning routine’ takes almost twenty minutes!”

“And it’s only a ten minute walk to school, I’m fine!”

“Lance was up late again watching YouTube videos,” his sister Chloe tattles.

“It was soccer, thank you very much,” Lance chastises, and steals Chloe’s bacon. “I’ll smack you with a soccer ball if you sneak into my room again.”

“No slapping your sister,” mutters Lance’s father from behind his paper.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur, as it usually does. Lance is through his morning routine and out the door with his mother clucking at his heels. Lance waves his sister to the bus stop and steps onto the pavement just in time to see the back of Keith’s head disappear around the corner. Lance tries not to stare.

“Keith, wait!”

Lance turns as Keith’s older brother, Shiro, bolts out the door, coat half off his shoulder and a swinging lunch box in hand. Shiro is a retired army medic, even at the young age of twenty-six, honorably discharged but missing an arm. Now he works as a professor at a local community college. Lance doesn’t know what he teaches.

Shiro sighs when he see’s Keith is already gone, but grins widely when he notices Lance. “Hey, Lance! Mind giving this to Keith for me? He forgot his lunch again.”

Lance eyes him. Shiro has been trying to mend his and Keith’s friendship since they began drifting apart, and Lance could guess that Shiro had purposefully neglected to give Keith his lunch in the hope of running into Lance.

Lance raises an eyebrow but takes the lunch anyway. “Anything for you, dude!”

“Thanks so much Lance!” Shiro smiles, and rushes back into the house.

Well, that was convenient, Lance thinks, but breaks into a jog to catch up with Keith.

Only, it seems that Keith had realized he didn’t have his lunch. As Lance turns the corner, Keith suddenly appears from the other side of it, and Lance can see the look of surprise on his face before they collide sharply. Lance’s face explodes in pain as his chin connects with Keith’s forehead, and both boys stumble back, clutching respective body parts and glaring at each other.

“Ow, watch where you’re going!”

“You ran into me, watch where you’re going!”

“Uh, no, this is definitely your fault.”

“My fault!?”

And here they go. They had always bickered as kids, but it had gotten worse as of late. Lance attributed it to jealousy, though he would never admit it out loud. Keith was a smart kid, easily one of the top students in school, and co-captain of the kendo club, even if he rarely went to meetings. He was even better in martial arts than Lance was. Lance had always been two steps behind Keith in everything they did together, and tended to release frustration in the form of bickering.

Lance knows that this fight is pointless. They’re going to be late for school at this rate so Lance decides to take the higher ground.

He shoves Keith’s lunch against the other boy’s chest. “Here. Shiro wanted me to give this to you.” And with that, Lance leaves. He can sense Keith watching him as he strides away, hands stuffed deep into his pockets, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Lance…! Earth to Lance!”

Lance lets out a shriek and almost falls out of his chair. Pidge looks unamused as she leans against his desk, hand still raised in a waving motion. Hunk stands behind her, trying not to laugh at Lance’s almost – and likely painful – tumble from his chair. Lance glares at his friends with as much fake annoyance as he can.

“What do you want?”

“You were spacing out,” Pidge says.

“Was not.”

“Were too.”

“Hunk, back me up.”

“You totally were.”

“Some friends you are.”

They laugh. Keith walks in thirty seconds before the start of class, as usual, and takes his seat in the back corner, as usual. Lance tries not to pay attention to him as he passes his desk, but Pidge is a perceptive little shit, and notices Lance’s apparently not-so-subtle eye flick.

“You and Keith still not talking?”

“We haven’t talked in two years, Pidge.”

“I can tell you want to, though.”

“Conversation is a two-way street, kiddo.”

Hunk looks between Lance and Keith. “I don’t know how you guys became friends in the first place. You both are so… different. I mean he’s probably gonna be the first emo valedictorian and then you…”

“Excuse you, I’m in line to be salutatorian, thank you very much.”

“I was gonna say flamboyant captain of the soccer team but yeah, that works…?”

“What Hunk is trying to say is that you two are like oil and water and we can’t believe you actually managed to stay friends for as long as you did,” Pidge clarifies.

Lance finally gives in to the pressure and twists in his seat to stare at Keith. The other boy has his earbuds in and is nodding his head gently to whatever song is playing as he stares out the window into the schoolyard. “Yeah,” Lance sighs. “Me too.”

At that moment, the teacher walks in, shoos Pidge out of her classroom, and the day begins. Ms. Allura starts by introducing a new girl to the class, Nyma. Lance’s attention is immediately drawn to her nice body, platinum blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail with ringlets loose to frame her pretty face. He lets out a wolf whistle for giggles, and Hunk kicks him from under the table. Nyma giggles though, even as Ms. Allura rolls her eyes, used to Lance’s antics.

Nyma takes a seat near Keith, which for some reason makes Lance’s blood boil before he remembers that he and Keith don’t have anything to do with each other anymore, and lets it slide, opting to pay attention to the start of Ms. Allura’s lectures. Lance and Keith only have two classes together, which makes Lance’s day a little easier, but it’s not until after all the classes are over and he can go to soccer practice that he is finally free of Keith’s everlasting presence on campus.

He changes into his uniform and lets all the pent up emotion loose on the field until his legs are shaking under him and he can barely stand. As captain he has to set examples, especially for the new kids, and therefore cannot let himself slack off. Doesn’t help that the running gives him amazing calves he can use to impress the ladies. Hunk, who is on the team with him, only rolls his eyes.

Coach Coran blows the whistle and calls for a break, and Lance stumbles to the benches to pop open his water bottle and dump it over his head. The other players do the same, and soon twenty boys are soaking wet.

“Alright boys,” says Coach Coran. He twirls his mustache as he speaks, and some of the younger players snicker. “I have an announcement! The Voltron Lions soccer team is having open tryouts this Friday. All you need are your cleats and a positive attitude. Those interested can take a flyer…” He hands a stack of leaflets to the person sitting closest to him, and the flyers begin to be passed around “… and let me know you plan to go so I can give your teachers an excused absence slip! You also need a signed permission form from your parents. The tryouts will last for several days so be prepared to handle your schoolwork on top of everything else!”

Lance takes a flyer and feels his mouth drop. The Voltron Lions is his favorite team; he’d been following them ever since they won the World Cup when he was six. It was his dream to one day join their ranks, and now he was finally getting the chance to do it. He could practically feel his entire body shake with the anticipation.

“Lance will totally make it in,” says Hunk, and slaps Lance’s shoulder for emphasis. “You’re the best player out of all of us. I’d go but it’s all the way in the city, there’s no way my parents would let me…”

“It’ll take some convincing,” Lance murmurs. “But the ‘rents are chill, I bet they’ll let me go…!”

The team cheers.

Lance changes back into his day clothes after practice, stuffing his sweaty uniform into his sports bag. Hunk has already gone home with Shay as he does on every Friday, leave Lance to walk home by himself. He hums Shakira to himself as he walks, letting his body sway with the rise and fall of the beat as he goes. He rounds a corner, and his groove is thrown off (hah) by the sight of Nyma cornering Keith against the wall of the gym, playing with her hair which in Girl Language is a bright neon sign saying I’m flirting with you.

Lance has to walk past them to get home. He tries to make himself inconspicuous, but that is kind of difficult when there is no one else in sight, and Keith himself seems to be looking everywhere but Nyma. Which includes Lance walking by.

Lance and Keith make eye contact, the first time since they had quite literally run into each other that morning. Nyma follows Keith’s gaze and looks Lance up and down with an almost mischievous grin. Lance isn’t sure what about this picture is giving him such a feeling of anger in his gut. He tells himself it’s because the new hot transfer student is flirting with his rival.

“You can do better, Nyma,” Lance calls to her, glaring at Keith. “Dude’s dumber than a doornail and wouldn’t know if you were flirting with him if you took your shirt off.”

Keith glares back. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Mullet!?”

“Boys,” Nyma says, looking thrilled that boys appear to be fighting over her.

“Believe me, Nyma,” Lance says, always to have the final word. “You think you’ll be together forever and just like that –” he snaps his fingers. “—he leaves you hanging.”

Lance leaves before Keith can respond.

Lance has somehow relaxed by the time he gets home, and waits until his parents get home before breaking out the flyer.

“You’re not going.”

Lance can’t believe what he’s hearing. He stares at his parents sitting opposite him, stern looks on their faces. The flyer for the Voltron Lions lays flat on the table, slightly crinkled from its adventure in Lance’s backpack. He hadn’t hesitated to bring up the tryouts, his excitement barely containable, only to have his father tell him, quite bluntly, no.

“But dad,” Lance began. “Are you not even going to listen to me!? These are the Lions! My favorite team! If I don’t go to this tryout then who knows how long it’ll take before they hold more!?”

“You’re a high school senior, Lance,” says his mother. “You have to start thinking about college.”

“Besides, you’re too young to go into the city on your own!” Lance’s father shouts over Lance’s whined protests. “You need to start thinking about academics and stop dreaming about going pro.”

Lance feels his fists curling in his lap. “What if I don’t want to go to college?”

His parents exchange looks.

“What are you saying, Lance?”

“I don’t want to go to college.” Lance repeats himself. “I know what I want, and college is just a waste of time and money. I want to play soccer.”

“You’re going to regret saying that, Lance,” says his father. “You’re in a good program in Altea Academy, you’d be throwing all of that away!”

“That’s right,” his mother agrees.

Lance looks back and forth between his parents, completely floored. He’d had confidence that his parents would jump at the opportunity for their son to have shot at professional soccer, but now he is lost for words. Did they not have enough faith in his ability? He was the captain for god’s sake!

“I can’t believe you’re ganging up on me!” Lance throws his hands on the table with a smack, the chair screeching across the floor as he stands sharply. “Have you never had dreams that you wanted to come true? Did your parents every disagree with you on something that you really wanted!?”

“Lance!”

Lance has had enough. He wordlessly turns on his heel and runs from the room, unable to look his parents in the eye. He can hear his mother yelling after him as he takes long strides toward the front door. He passes Chloe on the way, looking up at her older brother with big brown eyes and an empathetic expression. Lance rubs the top of her head before leaving, and makes a point to slam the door shut as he goes.

It’s raining outside, but Lance is too stubborn to go back inside and get an umbrella. He pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and tucks his hands into his armpits to keep them warm as he walks with no destination in mind but to just get away. The rain stings his face, but Lance lets it disguise the tears that he finally lets slide down his cheeks.

Lance walks, soaks through to the skin, for who knows how long, scuffing his shoes across the sidewalk as he dribbles a rock between his feet. He finally looks up to get a guage on his location, and spots a bus stop. He can see the hunched form of some other sap who got caught in the downpour. He ducks under the awning and takes his hood down to wring it out.

That's when he notices the other person under the awning is none other than Keith, staring wordlessly up at Lance like he couldn't believe Lance would intrude on his personal bus stop.

"Enjoying the view?" Lance asks, a small bite to his tone.

Keith's eyes flicker. "What's there to see?"

"Nothing, apparently."

Keith breathes out through his nose and stands. "At least you know that much." He makes as if too leave, but words are leaving Lance's mouth before his brain can catch up.

“Keith.”

Keith stops at the sound of his name. He takes a deep breath and turns his body to face Lance halfway, a wordless sign that he’s only half paying attention. “What do you want.”

Lance's brain is still lagging behind. “Why do you always ignore me? When we fight it’s always me who has to goad you on.”

“I don’t ignore you.”

“Yes, you do!” Lance says, angrily this time. “You ignore everybody, Keith. The first time I’ve seen you talk to anyone was Nyma today! Have you been with her this whole time? Are you going out? A little quick for her first day don’t you think?”

“That has nothing to do with you,” Keith growls.

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” Lance says. “But I want it to! I miss being friends with you, Keith. I miss looking for Bigfoot in my parents’ garden even though I knew he didn’t exist. And then you just drifted away and no matter what I did you never talked to me anymore! I mean nothing to you now, like all of that never happened.” His voice is almost pleading. "We used to be best friends."

Keith doesn’t move nor change the expression on his face. He crosses his arms. “Just stop following me everywhere,” Keith says, his tone sharp.

“When have I followed you!?”

“Let me think,” Keith says sarcastically, and counts on his fingers. “This morning with my lunch, and then earlier with Nyma. And now…”

“I didn’t plan any of this,” Lance defends.

“I don’t care,” Keith snaps.

“I’m only out here because I got in a fight with my parents,” Lance says. “They’re mad at me for not wanting to go to college. “

“And why’s that?”

“Like you care.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Keith admits, his eyebrows drawn tight together in frustration. “You’re such a spoiled brat for even having the opportunity to go to college.”

Lance reels at that. Keith knows that Lance knows that Keith’s family was poor enough as it was, even when their parents were still around. Now, Shiro’s meager teacher’s income is barely enough to send Keith to college without a full scholarship. Lance doesn’t seem to have anything to say, so Keith keeps going.

“Why don’t you get it?” Keith snaps. “Yeah, fine, I avoid you. But it’s because I can’t stand you anymore.”

Lance steps away, swallows down the lump in his throat. He opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. Lance turns on his heel without another word and takes off into the night, vanishing instantly in the pouring rain.

Lance doesn't know where he's going, only that he needs to get away from his parents and Keith, maybe even from the whole world. He remembers a small outcropping of rock in the park right on the edge of town, where he and Keith had played as kids. He knows for a fact Keith doesn't go there anymore, and it's decently large enough to shelter him from the rain, at least for a few hours.

He takes off for the park, not bothering to shield himself from the storm. His shoes squish uncomfortably in the mud as he passes over the park's lawn, and the outcropping finally comes into view. It's smaller than he remembered, but still large enough for him to crawl under comfortably without too much fuss. He ducks inside and makes himself as small as possible, knees pulled up tight against his chest as he shivers in his wet clothing. He listens to the sound of the storm outside, resting his cheek on the hill of his knees.

What happened to us? Lance asked the universe. Why did Keith and I drift apart? I wish we could go back to how it used to be. To when we were little...

Lance isn't sure how long he sleeps, but when he opens his eyes again, the world is still dark. He can't hear the sound of the storm anymore, but there's an enormous cloth weighing down on his face. Oh... he must have slipped all the way under the covers. He keeps his eyes closed to shield himself from the light that his mother would surely shine in his face to properly wake him and paws at the comforter to find the edge. He does, and pulls himself free, squinting his eyes open one at a time.

The first thing he notices is that he's not in his room. The events of the previous evening come back, and Lance remembers that he had taken shelter from the storm in the small park. The second thing that he notices is that he's butt-ass naked.

That catches Lance by surprise. He squeaks and scrambles to his feet, trips over the collar of his sweatshirt and... why is his sweatshirt bigger than him?

Lance glances up, around, and down at himself. Lance opens his mouth to freak out, but can only manage guttural wails. And why is he one inch tall!? What the hell is going on!?