Chapter Text
Keith felt washed up. He woke to a white sunrise and a brain that felt like mush. There was There was strange mechanical pull every time his muscles lingered to far from their tendons. The joints in his arms would not straighten all the way.
It was odd to wake up in such complete silence. No droning rain against the wet sand, or the tiny changes in the sounds of the waves. No groggy Lance to mumble a good morning to him as soon as his eyes opened. Lance always seemed to wake up first. Keith felt empty.
There was wind that moved ruffled the leaves, but they made no sound. Keith knocked on the wood next to his ear just to make sure he hadn't gone deaf. When he found he wasn't, he had only a few things to do before he inevitably started climbing again. The only positive Keith could bring himself to think of was the fact that there were considerably more place to rest higher in the tree, and while he didn't want to admit it, he would probably need to stop at all of them.
He pushed on, and winced every single time his sword sliced through the scabs on his hands. Blood dripped onto his wrists, then arms, but pain was just pain now. Blood was just blood. But it was also slippery. Keith draped himself over a branch that broke the structure of the tree. He wrapped his hands in cloth. It was from Lance’s old, chopped up clothing, that he had given to Keith because of his tendency to bleed. He pulled them from the pockets of Lance's jacket. They were dark and scratchy made of jean material. The cloth was filthy, probably infectious, but Keith didn't have much of a choice.
Red spots seeped through the fabric quickly and Keith moved on.
As he got higher, he put together new pieces in the puzzle that was the horizon. Unfortunately that puzzle had exactly one color; blue. But Keith knew there had to be more on the other side of the tree, and maybe it was just more blue, but hey, that was something. He made sure to scan the ground. In case Lance was trotting along the shore, calling his name. Or in case Lance washed up on the shore, half alive, but as lively as ever.
Nothing had showed up so far, but he’d only seen so many different views in the few new hours he been climbing. And he was so anxious to see what was around the corners of every branch. He could only go up, as there weren't many branches to move across.
It took him all day. All day to get a new piece of the world's most boring puzzle which again was just blue . His hands were bleeding still. Splitters wedged under nails of his left hand, digging in deeper with every rip of his hand into the bark. The cloth on his hands was soaked through red now. The blood stained his skin, oozed out and dropped between his fingertips. It hurt just as much as his throbbing head and stiff limbs.
Keith looked down on the ocean constantly from the dizzying height. Shadows of the formless schools of fish caught his eye, but the surface was barren. Except for the moon. It came half way above the surface, chasing Keith’s eye, reminding him of its betrayal.
A sturdy branch above beckoned him from far above. It lulled Keith with its promise of restless sleep. The sun was fading and with it Keith's will.
He couldn't take it. Going this far for nothing, having to go even farther again tomorrow for even less. It had to end sometime. Didn't it?
The sunset looked venomous, mocking him. Every second that ticked by, every heartbeat, another one where Lance could be dying. It was sicken, Keith didn't want to eat. His stomach begged otherwise, as did his thinning completion. Multiple comas tend to do that to people.
Keith groaned, liquid slipped onto his face from where his sword pierced the bark. It happened many times before that and would definitely happen again. Keith pulled himself higher and pressed his mouth against it. He hadn't drank anything in hours, not that he hadn't been thirsty, but the repetitive motions made him lose touch with reality.
Then his sword slipped through the cracks. Gravity ripped him from his perch. His nose slammed backwards into his skull, the bark pierced right through his lips and peeled away the skin on his chin. He daggled of the tree by one hand hanging loosely off of a single knot it the wood. The fingernails of his other hand snapped off, but most of the blood came from the splinters cutting through his palms. He tasted blood in his mouth, whether from his nose or lips he wasn't sure. All the air left his lungs. His free hand swing violently for his sword, Keith didn't even know how he got it that high. The water poured over the hand embedded in the bark. He scrambled for a foot-hold, anything to get him high enough to reach his sword. The blood, the water, would wash him away before he got it, Keith was sure of it.
He grasped for breath just as much as he grasped for his blade. Bark sliced through his foot, but he used it. Keith leapt, and a moment he was suspended in air. Nothing separating him from death except four hundred feet and a sword at his fingertips. He grabbed the sword with both hands. It dug through the fabric but Keith already had too many scars to care.
He needed to get to somewhere stable fast. His arms ached to reach upward, to pull his own weight. The branch above him, to the left was much farther away than it was thirty seconds ago. It might as well have been miles ahead, it was too slippery to move that far.
Of course Keith went anyways even though it was the second most painful thing he d ever done in his life. He was programmed to never give up and it was exhausting. It would have been so much easier to let the ground catch him, watch the leaves rustle on the way down. His eyes were tired enough where they closed but he moved anyways. Survival was the only option.
Keith climbed for an hour, his muscles splitting as he went. He tasted the blood constantly. Keith bite the split of his lower lip every time he moved his foot, opening the wound again and again. His hand met a surface above him. It was a thick branch and one of the most comforting things Keith ever felt.
He hooked his sword over the edge and heaved upwards. Keith held the vine so tight he felt like He he would pop. His limbs could wrap around the surface without meeting again. Keith took comfort in the vine’s width. He trusted very few inanimate objects lately.
After a few much needed minutes of rest, Keith turned to lie on his back, the branches above his splayed out into a crown of leaves with silver petals sprinkled throughout. There was movement. Not only of the wind, branches lurched under invisible weight. It was peaceful. Peaceful enough to seem like like earth.
The moon caught Keith's attention as always. It took on a pale orange hues when illuminated by the night sky. Keith could feel the intensity of the heat dwindling.
Sleep became, once again, hard to come by. Night became a time to worry again, like every claustrophobic second he spent trapped in that space ship. But here there were no walls closing in. There was fresh air to disrupt the hair on his face. There was the natural air of comfort that living things have off. So even though he worried, Keith found that he could sleep.
___
Lance hadn't stopped kicking for hours. Not drawn out seconds, feeling like minutes, but literal hours. His legs felt like they were not his own, heavy and numb. But they still moved, so Lance moved them. He was past the point of consciousness, where he swam because it was the only thing he knew how to do. There was one thought locked in his brain, a single image.
A tree more beautiful than anything he'd ever seen, even though the exact same one was etched into his memory somewhere recent. For once there were clouds in the skies, white, puffy and hanging low toward the sea. The leaves were clouded by distance, but it was the only thing Lance could see for miles. He’s seen nothing for so long, it actually felt close.
It wasn't. Not at all. Lance was in a delusional state of desperation that survival threw him into. He had no idea. He thought, just a few more minutes, just a few more… kicks.
Reality set in slowly, like the sun rising over Lance's dull brain. He would not be there in minutes. He might not even be there for hours or days. For the first time it dawned on him, that when he had woken up, he might have been asleep for longer than he realized. The light in his eyes faded. He was so hungry, so thirsty that his eyes would not focus.
He stopped moving. It was his only voluntary action in hours. The water soaked up the colors of the approaching sunset. Lance gazed below the surface. The scene below him was forever frozen, bathed in rays of tell daylight. It was still and quiet all the way to the ocean floor. Lance felt like he could be at peace down there.
He missed the way the water felt when it wasn't sucking him dry of water, life, and everything else. His eyes felt so dry he had to close them.
Lance wasn't sure when the last time he slept was. He remembered vaguely seeing the reflection of the moon across the water bathed in darkness earlier. But that had been when he’d sighted the first shimmer of green leaves in the distance. That had been the last time he’d had a rational thought. Until now.
Now the only thoughts he could think, were how much his legs hurt, how much his, head hurt, how far away the glistening pink quartz was. Everything dawned on him at once. It was impossible. The tree was too far, he was too weak. There was a sudden snap of his eyelids, open and shut. And then he could barely get the open again. How long had he been awake?
The painick almost did it. It almost kept him awake. But the exhaustion won.
___
There was a new world in the tree. Life flourished there. Other plants grew out of every rip and tear between the branches. Plants were all they could be called. Some of them didn't look alive, but they would move. Breath slowly, and let out a puff of spores that rained down on the air like a sticky glitter. These plants, or whatever they were, curled away into their dark red shells when poked, Keith found.
It was cool beneath the branches and life flourished in the shade. Plants and animals alike. More than once a curiously life form hopped over to take a look at him. Most were small, shiny blue porcupines, no bigger than his hand. They had feathers tiny and spiky, in the place of quills. They looked at Keith with big black eyes that they licked frequently.
They rattled as they walked along side Keith, their spiny little feathers shifted against each other. Their feet seemed to be suction cups, one for each of the four toes on each foot. Keith actually though there pretty cute.
Swarms of insects buzzed around Keith’s eyes. They looked more like dragons with four stretchy wings a piece. Their scales were a brilliant multitude of purples and golds faded together. Keith let his finger float into the centre of the swarm. It returned with a sparkly little beast wrapped around it like something out of a fairy tail. It quickly fluttered away, him purring as it went.
They bit. Their sharp teeth pierced through Keith’s skin again and again. These dragonflies were true to their name, unaware to Keith.
The next time he was curious enough to watch as the insect landed on his arm. It's eyes were small, with deep green irises that looked almost human in design. It really did looked looks like a miniature dragon, except it wings seemed to be another kind of stretchy membrane that resembled the ones of the bat’s. The beast circled his arm, it's scaly tail leaving faded marks on Keith’s skin. It cocked its head at him, and open its mouth to chirp, revealing the mouth of a miniature crocodile. Then it bit him.
Blood swells out and the dragonfly lapped it up. Its spiny tongue dug deeper into the wound and left the spot feeling numb but sore. Keith shook it off but was careful not to squish it. He couldn't bring himself to kill something so ethereal.
But then there were hundreds, everywhere. The swarm enveloped him, and Keith had nowhere to run. They were much, worse than mosquitoes, their teeth dug into his skin from every direction. The vine hundreds of feet in the air was not exactly the best place to be flailing his limbs about, but he had to something. It felt like he was been eaten alive by pin needles.
Keith hated that bugs were giving him this much trouble. Pest. Keith smacked them aside, felt their delicate bones snap against his hand. No matter how many he hit it didn't seem to make a difference. If Keith killed one two more took it's its place. Hydras.
Then they vanish, first slowly then it was almost as if they evaporated. Keith opened his eyes again. All of his bare skin was covered in holes, welling over with blood. Another dragonfly hovered in front of his face. Keith went to slap it. His hand almost reached it, but when it was sucked in the opposite direction.
The porcupines. Their sticky tongues flew out like a lizard’s. There were plenty of them too, stuck to the branches even above his head. In that moment he wanted so badly to be thankful, but all he could think about was how damn weird nature was.
The spots were the dragons broke through his skin were numb, freezing even. In minutes Keith was shivering. Over sized goosebumps popped up from the space around the bloody welts. Keith was shaking so violently he could barely get his hands on any of the branches around him. He ripped Lance’s jacket of his waist and buried himself in it. It was too big for him in the most perfect way. Keith whimpered at the thought of his blood stains ruining his sole possession.
The spiny animals gathered around him once again. They were intrigued by the chattering of his teeth.
It was a horrible feeling, his skin boiling under the warmth of the jacket, but his insides dealt frozen solid and dead. Keith was sweating and that only made him feel colder. His head feel back and hit the bark. There was still so much daylight left.
But Keith couldn't move his systems were slowing down. His heartbeat sounded low and hard in his ears like footsteps. It numbed his senses and slowed his thoughts and inevitably brought the feeling of drowsiness.
Keith longed to jump into the sun, anything for warmth. If he only knew how much he would miss it with in seconds.How could it be this cold under the direct rays?
He would not give in to the pathetic lure of sleep again. Keith could fight this, he would not pass out again. The sunlight become Keith upwards, but his knees felt to knoppy to move. He crawled out wards along the path of the branch, porcupines shuffling out of his way.
Keith pulled his hood back to let his skin feel the sunlight. It burned, but it warmed the blood in his veins. His chattering teeth caught his bottom lip again, his tongue ran over his chapped and newly bloody lips. His heart was still frozen solid to the core. It sent soaks up his arms. Keith lurched forward and collapse into the trunk. It seemed futile for Keith to try and hold on to the branches, but he held on for dear life through every muscle spasm.
A thought occurred to Keith. He turned his arm over, exposing a bloody scab to the sun. His mouth closed around and he sucked and spat and repeated. To his relief, he regained feeling in his wrist somewhat. Then his tongue went numb. It was poison, not venom. Fantastic.
Keith's fingernails dug imprints into his temples. His chest heaved as Keith spat out anything he could until the muscles in his face went numb.
Keith screamed into the trunk. The sound was horribly distorted, he couldn't move his lips. He tasted the grimy bark and bitter blood but couldn't do a thing about it. The sensations might fade if he waited long enough, but so many bit him… Keith started to wondered if he would live. If it was anything like a new bee sting that was not that farfetched. And these sure hurt more than a bee sting.
Keith ripped into the skin of the tree with what was left of his fingernails. He felt his skin break and let more blood out. It still hurt less than the spasm raking his muscles. Keith couldn't fall asleep now even if he wanted too. He would have to suffer through every second of this. Most of his skin was to numb to feel any of it, by everything else did. The icy cold made his muscles brittle like any movement would shatter them. His throat closed and burned around the hot air. Keith felt like nails were wedged in between his vertebrae, every muscle spasm coursed deeper through his flesh.
Keith shredded the bark in his hands, sweating in the sun until he couldn't breath. The sun burned him for hours as he slipped in our of reality with the waves of pain. Every time he thought it might be over his arm would fly off the vine, bring with it a stabbing rush of freezing cold sensation. So he stopped thinking.
His eyes drifted in and out of focus. All of what he could see was blue, interrupted by the hazy sway of leaves.
Keith wanted to pass out now. He wanted the sweet relief of sleep, but he couldn't have a request even as simple as that.
He could only think of moving again at sunset. Keith's limbs felt foreign. The touch of his fingers on his own skin felt chillingly surreal.
The wind felt freezing even though it was bond to be warm. Keith looked up at the pale sky. There were clouds. Subconscious unease filled his throat. The last time there were clouds the world had ripped it's itself in two. This time Keith hoped it would take him too.