Chapter Text
He scratched at the seatbelt, tugging and pushing the button before it unbuckled. He wasn’t moving quick enough. He had to save him. Save…
Save who?
He pulled at the handle of the door, each attempt becoming more and more desperate.
He couldn’t hold his breath any longer. His lungs felt as if they would burst.
He opened his mouth.
He could feel the water filling his lungs, felt them burn. It hurt.
It hurt so much.
He couldn’t get out. He was going to die.
“Shiro!”
Blue eyes looked into his, a bright smile dancing across soft lips.
Lance.
He had to save Lance!
Shiro bolted out of bed, Lance’s name fading into the dark as he fought to catch his breath.
The same nightmare.
It was the same nightmare that he’s had for the past 3 years.
He hadn’t been able to save Lance.
He almost wasn’t able to save himself.
Shiro gripped the stump of where his right arm use to be as tears of frustration began to fell. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Him and Lance were supposed to be married, living in Shiro’s studio apartment; not Shiro being broken and alone, living in his brother's farmhouse, while the love of his life was dead.
“Shiro?”
The lights flickered on, the bed sank down under more weight. Shiro didn’t want to look at his brother, didn’t want to see the tired or sad look his eyes held.
Lance had been his best friend, the one to help him out of his shell. When Lance had died, so did a part of his brother. He had been angry, yelling and screaming; he closed himself off and even now he barely left unless it was for work.
“Shiro, look at me.”
He gave in and looked at his brother, his eyes dull but determined.
“We can’t keep doing this.”
Shiro rubbed his eyes, sighing. “Can’t keep doing what? The nightmares? I can hardly control those.”
“All of this. We can’t keep this up, Shiro. We’re going to kill ourselves this way.” He sounded so tired, so defeated.
“Keith-”
“We’re going to the river.”
It felt like Shiro’s soul froze. “No.”
“This isn’t up for discussion.”
“I am not going. Keith, please.”
“We have to face this… If it’s too much, we’ll leave.”
--------
Shiro stared at the river, taking in shuddering breaths. He could do this. He promised Keith, even if his brother couldn’t do it himself. He moved forward towards the side of the road, overlooking the river. Lance had loved this river. Always coming to it during the summer. Shiro remembered the first time Lance had dragged him to it, years before they started dating. He had doubted he would have fun, Lance proving him wrong.
His feet carried him into the grass, lost in his memories. One day turned into two then three, and soon they had spent almost every day of the summer at the river. He slipped his shoes and socks off, leaving them in the grass before walking to the sandbank. He remembered the nights him and Lance had spent there, talking about space and life. Shiro walked along the river, eyes never truly seeing what was in front of him until he heard a loud noise, snapping out his memories.
He felt the blood drain from his face, felt his breathing freeze. He must be going crazy. Or… he was dreaming.
Maybe he was being haunted.
“Lance?” It came out as a hoarse whisper.
In the river was Lance, chest deep, staring at him.
Worst of all, Lance looked dead, pale with a few jagged scars.
Lance was dead so…. how?
The shock finally settled in and Shiro felt his knees hit the ground before there was nothing.