Chapter Text
Dear Keith,
Today was your funeral. Frankly, I don’t know why I’m still writing these; they deemed you missing over 6 months ago. The General called me the other day and said they found your body. I couldn’t stop crying…Keith, we’ve been together for four years. I was going to ask you to marry me when you got back. We’ve joked around so much and I’ve never properly told you that I loved you. I. Love. You. 100% for real, no tricks, no underlying meaning; simply, I love you. I knew what I was getting into and I still stayed because even though your stupid mullet-head told me what might happen I didn’t care.
I will never stop loving you, and you need to properly know this. I don’t care if you never get to read this bu…
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Lance was crying too hard to finish his letter, and the ink on the paper started to run. Lance knew that Keith dying was a possibility but he was never actually prepared for if it happened. Keith was strong. That mullet-head could do anything he put his mind to, and it was amazing that he chose to do something like this. Serving your country is an amazing honor, and Lance was really happy for him.
He wanted Keith to come home. Lance thought that if he avoided the news after the initial announcement Keith would come back home and he would propose to him and it would be perfect. He already had the ring, he just needed his soon-to-be-fiancé (hopefully).
Lance wiped his puffy eyes, and winced at the irritation.
“I need a shower,” he mumbled to himself, as he walked towards the bathroom.
He tried as hard as he could to just scrub off the pain and forget, but to no avail. He kept remembering his face, kept hearing his voice, feeling his hands on his body ever so softly. Every single memory he has of him was rushing through his brain and he couldn’t do anything to stop them. Lance didn’t want to forget Keith, he could never do that; he just wanted to forget the pain of losing him.
Maybe it isn’t real. Maybe he’ll just walk through the door right now and surprise me when I come out of the bathroom.
Lance did everything he could to convince himself that just maybe this was a dream.
Yeah, just a bad nightmare. Soon I’ll wake up and he’ll be right there next to me making funny faces until I’m finally up.
As Lance came out of his mind-shell, he noticed how raw his back felt. The stream of water had turned hot, and his back was burning from being under it for so long. Eventually, he turned it off and sluggishly got out. He was too exhausted to do his normal skin care routine, so he threw on one of Keith’s oversized shirts and crawled into bed. Keith’s clove and bar-soap smell surrounded Lance as he fell into a restless sleep.
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Lance woke up with the worst migraine of his entire life. Okay, that may have been an exaggeration but it still hurt okay?! He tossed and turned in his bed for around twenty minutes, until he finally decided to get up. As Lance walked the short trek to the kitchen, he noticed his shirt.
Keith…
Lance smelled his shirt and his face fell. Keith’s smell was starting to fade. It was old anyways so he didn’t really expect much. Still though, the smell was his comfort. It made Lance think that Keith was still there and still yelling about how he had once again burnt the pancakes or made the bacon too crispy. He started tearing up again and decided that maybe breakfast wasnt a good idea right now.
Instead of sulking all day, Lance pulled himself out of bed and went to the small café down the street. He order himelf the most sugary drink on the menu, and the barista gave him a weird look as she handed it to Lance over the counter.
As soon as he sat down, Lance’s mood deteriorated fast. He had barely touched his drink for almost an hour, until the barista came over and asked if he was alright. Lance gave a quick nod, chugged down the melted sludge that was supposed to be his drink, and quickly walked out.
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“COME ON COME ON MOVE MOVE MOVE!!!”
“SIR WE’VE GOT A MAN DOWN.”
“LEAVE HIM WE NEED TO KEEP MOVING”
“KEITH COME ON, JUST LEAVE HIM”
“SHIRO I CAN’T DO THAT HE’S MY BEST FRIEND!”
“THAT’S THE PAIN OF WAR BUDDY, YOU GOTTA LET THEM GO.”
Keith is running as fast as he can. Gunshots are buzzing in his brain, blood is everywhere, bodies are surrounding him, and everybody is screaming. Keith doesn’t know where to go, and the fear is starting to catch up to him. He’s separated from the group, and the gunshots are getting more and more faint. Somewhere, from which seems miles away, he hears his name:
“Keith!!! Watch out!!!” Shiro is trying to call him.
He can’t feel anything. Keith has never been the most expressive person and is used to the bubbling anxiety and anger building up inside of him. But instead he is numb. His ears are ringing, his chest is tight, stomach churning, it’s like he’s dying. Somehow though, he’s never felt more at peace. He’s pretty sure he didn’t get shot, he doesn’t feel any pain; so what’s happening? Why do I feel like this? Where is everybody?
Everything is dark. He can’t move or speak. Is this what hell is like? He asks himself. His limbs feel heavy and eventually he just gives up on trying to move. Then there’s light. Keith’s vision is slightly blurry until he notices him.
Lotor...