#the team will learn to be nicer if its the last think Keith does

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober day 12:

"I haven't slept in days, but who's counting?"

Red | insomnia | "im up, im up!"

Fandom: Voltron 

Prompts used: All

Alrighty! Part 2 of day 3! Hehehehehe! (This turned Klancey on me so fast i didnt even see it coming…) As always the timeline is screwed, I am pickpocketing the moments I want and placing them on a conspiracy board to my aesthetic liking. This deals with the aftermath of isolation, and its effects- to the best of my limited knowledge- so please tread carefully. Would love to hear from y'all if you like it! Thanks! 

Ps: Since alien measures of time are slightly longer I'm going off of someone elses calculations of what they may be. (Spiralled_Fury on A03) so a movement is 1.23 weeks which is roughly 8 days and something hours. 

…

The observation deck is quiet and dark, nothing but that soothing blue glow of Altean technology- nothing like that yellow of-

The stars, foreign as they may be, are nice to look at. The castle hums, and Blue is present in his mind, and it's a calm night in the open space. In a few minutes he'll make his rounds, check on each inhabitant of the castle, each of whom he sent to bed about a varga- hour- ago. It's been about a movement- a week since the pod, and that extra day and a little that he was in it- since his… rescue. He's tried his best to return to what was, but sometimes he wonders if he even should. 

He loves his team, he has been 'loverboy Lance' since practically birth. He cared so deeply about others, in detriment to himself typically, that even as a baby he knew when something was wrong with his family. They worried about him and his horrid taste in people, Hunk had barely made the cut and he's… well Hunk. But he just knows that if his Mama had been here watching their lives, he'd have gotten smacked upside the head, hugged to death, and whisked away with only the destruction her Chancla left behind them. 

That other voice in his head however pipes up, reminding him that they are children in war, lost in space and far away from all they have ever known. This team of teenagers is being led by two young adults, with one actual adult juggling a million duties behind them. This is a battlefield, and in a castle meant to house so many many more, 7 people barely fill a corner of it. 

Lance knows that they are good people. The thing that scared his family the most, was not that he could not discern the good and the bad people, but that he cared for them anyway like it would do something. (That's not true, he went to them because they gave him the time of day, you can only be used if you have a use after all…) 

But with the team, he knew they were good people. But they were also tired, traumatized and thrust into the turbulence, trials and tribulations of war and adulthood in one go. Lance had chosen who he was going to be the minute they'd all met in the desert. For kids lost in space needed something to ground them, something to make them smile, and remind them to rest, and to reminisce on home and what they fight for. But that apparently also made him the least, it felt like he was always coming up short or failing all together. That what he was doing was nothing to the team. 

He… didn't want to go back to that. But if he had to choose between that and the room, well… it wasn't a hard choice he supposed. 

His knees creak as he stands, he has to consciously straighten his back and neck- he doesn't have to duck or crouch anymore, there's room Lance, remember- his legs wobble for only a second before he takes his first step. He reminds himself that that's okay, he was gone for… a long time, and he sat or crouched or layed for all of it, his legs needed time to adjust to walking again. 

Bare feet pad slightly as he makes his familiar route. The Alteans are first, he can hear Corans snoring outside his door, and a small peek shows Allura curled up with the mice slumbering in her hair, her brow is relaxed and form loose, she needed the rest. Shiro is next, and he frowns at his leader's tense form, fist clenched in his sheets. He leans against the doorway, wracking his brain for a tune, and hums the first one he thinks of softly. He doesn't know why it works, why Shiro's whole form melts into the bed after a few moments of it, but he won't complain either, Shiro deserved good sleep. 

Hunk is next, and like Coran he can hear his snores through the door, though a deeper timbre and slightly quieter. He wants to peek in but Hunk is a light sleeper so he allows himself a few moments to listen before moving to Pidges room. The little gremlin is stubborn and Lance always has to prepare for the possibility of her being awake, so he braces himself as he opens her door. Her breaths are soft and though he has to maneuver around her heaps of who knows what, he finally finds her sprawled like a broken starfish in her bed, glasses askew and laptop haphazardly on her lap. He smiles at the drool at the corner of her mouth and shakes his head, carefully slipping off her glasses and placing them atop her laptop on her side table. He pulls the covers over her as she curls up on her side and lingers for only a moment, he still has one more person to check on. 

Keith's room is empty, two warring feelings hit him at once- a wave of panic and a tired sigh of exasperation. He makes his way to the training room, hearing the sounds of the gladiator from down the hall. He's too tired to interrupt this time round, Keith's chest is heaving so he'll probably be done soon anyway. He leans against the doorway watching mullet maneuver around the sparring section, more aggression than tact in his movements than usual, and finds his eyes feeling heavy. 

It's not a new feeling, he's felt strangely heavy for a while now despite his ribs doing their best at being one of those wooden frogs that you can make croak. He's only been able to get a few hours in this week, not that the team knows, or they haven't said anything. But everytime he closes his eyes…

The walls glow yellow and seem to creep closer every time he blinks, but if he doesn't blood starts to seep from the crevices he could never peel open and flood the room. He'll float there, eyes unblinking as he screams but no sound reaches his ears. The not bread and the not water dance a tango in front of him before launching down his throat as pain erupts from his very bones and his head expLOADS-

"LANCE!" 

"I'm up, I'm up!" He flails, wobbles backwards, falls-

Finds himself looking into Keith's frazzled eyes as the sweaty samurai holds him to his tense form. The image and sensations are too real, it was just a dream, he must have dozed off, he's fine, Keith is here and he's fine. 

"Sorry, I uh… was here to make you sleep ha…" Lance's body refuses to cooperate, but Keith seems to read him well enough, moving them until they're both simply sitting in the entrance. 

"You were… uh, you didn't look er no, I mean that it just seemed like something was freaking you out." Keith to his part, is even more awkward than Lance, but he's also actively working his sentences through so that's something. 

"Oh yeah… I'm fine, sorry." Lance looks away, rubbing at his face to stave off what he saw. 

"You look exhausted, I thought you were already in bed. What are you doing up again?" Keith ducks his head to see his face, sweaty mullet hanging in a scraggly mess. 

"I look awesome." Lance scoffs halfheartedly, definitely not saying what he was going to say because 'I haven't slept in days, but who's counting?' Would not go over well.

"What!? What do you mean days??"  

Oh well, maybe he's more tired than he thought. Lance laughs stiffly, moving to stand, but only accomplishing a weird half crawl wobble before Keith moves to keep him in place, they naturally fall into a tuffle because like hell is Lance going to have this conversation when hes so artfully avoided it and no ones brought it up and everything is FINE! 

And he's pinned. 

Keith is slightly winded- Lance's boney knees had a few purposes thank you- but he has Lance's wrists pinned on either side of his head, and legs pinning the rest of him in an annoyingly cool move that Lance will be learning later. But there's no triumphant grin or banter, instead worry still clouds his expression. 

"Have you slept at all since you've… been back?" He- like everyone on this ship- have refused to really bring up what went down. And it's not like Lance did either! But he's scared still, of things that happen again before his eyes. Keith's finger presses gently on his cheek, turning Lance's teary eyes towards him once again. "Talk to me, Sharpshooter." 

And Lance's soul, tired and weary, breaks open like a flood gate. Tears leaked down his cheeks- warm, they were always so warm against his cold skin- and he trembles- shivers, it was cold there, he was so cold. 

"I'm scared." He utters the words like a secret, and really it is one. Even if they saw him broken and at the end of his rope, Lance had tried so hard to return to his role when he got back, to be useful… “I don’t want to go back Keith.” 

“We will never let that happen! That guy isn’t going to hurt anyone ever again, and I promise to keep anyone else from doing it too!” Keith’s adamant response and determined eyes are enough to make him sob again, Keith falters wiping some of the tears absentmindedly. “What did I miss?”

“I don’t,” he swallows thickly, trying to get his thoughts in order, “want to be the seventh wheel anymore. The least. I don’t want to be alone. Please don’t-” he chokes on another sob and Lance is hurriedly pulled into a warm embrace. 

He’s startled for only a moment before heat chases away his cold, and safety wraps around him, and he burrows into it, hands gripping tightly around shoulders, afraid the moment will end too soon. 

“I’m sorry we made you feel that way. We were an absolute mess without you Lance, you have no idea how lost we were, I think I was literally ready to kill one of them. And I wasn’t alone in the sentiment. We can’t do this without you, and I don’t think we’d want to either.”

“I think,” he sniffles, voice muffled in Keith’s chest, “that’s the most I’ve heard you say at once in a while.” He squeezes tighter, voice softer, “thank you.” 

“I don’t know exactly what you went through, but I’m here if you need anything. And the team will be too, I’ll make sure of it okay?” Lance is hesitant in his nod, worry still deep in his chest. “Alright dork, movie night on the couch. If you’re gonna be awake so am I.” 

Keith stands and Lance yelps as he’s lifted, gripping Keith’s throat tight enough to choke. His face burns a brilliant shade of red to match his swollen eyes no doubt, and he can only give Keith’s little grin a petulant look. 

“I can walk.” 

“You could.” Keith agrees as he turns and starts the journey towards the common room. 

Lance watches him as they walk, aware of how out of character this was for them, How much Keith surprised him. He even worries this is a dream, that he’ll wake up alone in that cold dark room, or worse yet, that something terrible will happen next and the team will- but Lance doesn’t think even his mind could imagine these strong arms and abnormally warm chest. He’s set down on the couch, his fingers tighten on Keith’s shirt unconsciously. 

“I’m staying, I promise.”

And that meant more than Keith will ever know.

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