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“You guys go, I’ll stay with Shiro.”
It hurts, for a moment, before he remembers that Keith doesn’t know. He has no idea what Lance went through with Shiro’s clone, it’s not like he’s deliberately ignoring it. But his chest still tightens at the words, still clenches hard and fast before releasing.
He’s half-waiting for someone to say something, to object to only Keith, Allura, Krolia, and the fucking space wolf staying behind, but no one does. The others are just rolling with it, already up and walking away, and Lance cannot handle this.
“I wanna stay too,” he blurts, and then, in his peripheral vision, watches all eyes turn toward him. He’s looking only at Keith, determined to wipe the confusion on his face. “It’s - Shiro talked to me, in the - do you guys remember when we all forged that connection, transcended our lions or whatever? And Shiro took forever to show up?”
There’s a chorus of ‘yes’s from behind him. Keith’s brow furrows furthur.
“Shiro tried to talk to me, after you guys all broke connection,” Lance continues, hands running through his hair. “I was still there, and Shiro - he yelled for me and - and I didn’t have time to figure out what he was saying, but he was trying to tell me that the clone wasn’t him.”
Lance isn’t even sure where he’s going with this, but everyone’s silent, and he needs to stay. He needs to be here when Shiro wakes up, needs to know, as soon as possible, that he’s okay.
(He could have helped, could have fixed things if he’d just…realized there was something to fix.
If he’d just paid attention…)
His fingers feel numb when he says to Keith, “I - I have to be here, okay?”
Keith’s eyes clear. The creases in his forehead smooth out, and Lance can see that he gets it. Even if the reasoning isn’t fully understood, the need is. It’s the same thing that’s had Keith attached to the side of Shiro’s pod for hours now.
He can see the moment when Keith realizes that this is just as important to Lance as it is to him.
Just as standing under Keith’s calculating gaze is starting to get really uncomfortable (it feels like he’s being x-rayed, like Keith is seeing him in some brand new, illuminating light), his eyes shift from Lance to somewhere behind him as Coran pipes up.
“We don’t really need you, number three, so it’s totally fine if you stay here!”
The words would hurt (we don’t need you) in any other context, coming from anyone else, but this time he’s grateful to not be needed.
Keith’s approval isn’t exactly required, but he’s still waiting for it. This is important to both of them, sure, but Shiro and Keith have always been just that, Shiro and Keith, and he respects that.
Allura’s staying because she might be able to help, but Lance thinks he’d go if Keith asked him too.
(He also thinks he could draw Keith’s hair from memory with how long he’s been staring. It’s creeping toward the two minute mark.)
Finally, Keith says, “Okay,” as if this hasn’t been the tensest two minutes of Lance’s life, and wow, those two minutes were a waste because Keith was never going to say ‘no’, was he?
Not that it matters. Technically.
(It matters.)
“Sweet,” he says, regrets it immediately.
Keith’s expression shifts - it could be amusement or irritation, but he turns away to quickly to tell.
As the room starts to clear out, it hits him that he and Keith haven’t had a real conversation since Keith left for the Blade.
Well, this’ll be awkward.
He doesn’t know if it’s made better or worse by the fact that Allura’s still there, that Keith’s mom is still there, both looking back and forth between them like they’re trying to work out a puzzle, except they don’t even know how many pieces there are because the disconnect between him and Keith can’t decide how fucking wide it wants to be.
Belatedly, Lance realizes he’s still staring.
Eight-hundred and seventy-four seconds pass before anyone says anything. Lance counts. It’s easier than watching Allura hover over Shiro’s pod, easier than thinking about how pale Shiro looks in front of him and how stiff Keith is next to him.
Keith clears his throat before he speaks, making every head in the room snap to him, even the goddamn wolf’s. He doesn’t seem to notice. “So he - he spoke to you.”
He looks to Lance. “Shiro spoke to you, when he was on the astral plane.”
Lance has to school his expression into something less “deer caught in headlights” - he has no idea what Keith is looking for here. It wasn’t even a question, just a statement accompanied by an expectant look.
“Uh,” says Lance, rather eloquently.
Keith’s eyebrows creep farther up his forehead.
“...A little, yeah.” Is it disrespectful to lean on the pod? Probably. He folds his arms over his chest instead, leans to one side, angling away from Keith. “It was - y’know, maybe I should’ve put two and two together, but it wasn’t exactly a...sit-down chat.”
Keith’s face is carefully blank.
Lance’s mouth quirks, of its own volition, into a shaky, nervous half-smile. Then, as soon as Keith turns away, he looks pleadingly at Allura.
Help!
Allura opens her mouth, closes it again. Shakes her head. No! Not my problem!
Lance’s eyes flash. Please?
She looks like she’s going to protest further, but stops, reconsidering. A mischievous smile crosses her face. “You know, ah - I can’t really do much here, as is, so I’m going to...go and see if I can find anything helpful nearby. Alright?”
Wait, no!
Lance shoots her the dirtiest look he can muster, mouthing, That’s not what I meant!
Keith just nods.
Allura throws him a wicked grin and a thumbs-up on her way out, dragging Krolia and the space wolf with her.
“Are you okay?”
Keith doesn’t even glance at him. “Fine.”
Lance scoffs at the lie, even though it’s entirely anticipated, shakes his head because it still kind of stings that Keith lies to him.
He half-expects the exchange to end there, but he’s met with an icy glare. It’s made that much less intimidating by the bags under Keith’s eyes.
“What do you want from me, Lance?” Keith says, and it sounds so tired that all Lance’s anger drains out of him.
“I - I don’t know, Keith,” he sighs. “A conversation?”
The glare somehow gets harder and softer at the same time, it’s incredible. “About?”
Lance’s stomach twists - he hadn’t thought this far ahead. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he needs to hear from Keith, so much space in between them, even as they stand no more than three feet apart.
There’s so much anger in him since Keith left, but he can’t bring himself to dig it up, not now. Instead, he says, “Anything, Keith. I - I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. I mean, not that we were ever that...close, but -”
He cuts himself off, doesn’t want to go there.
It’s quiet for a while. Lance can’t look at Keith, can’t handle whatever emotions are happening on his face right now.
He’s bracing himself for the worst when Keith says, “Shiro always did tell me I needed more friends.”
A surprised laugh falls out of Lance’s mouth. It’s much too loud for the small cave, for the close proximity.
He has no idea what this means.
Are they friends?
They have to be.
He thinks of Keith as a friend now, even after the bumpy start they got off to. It’s his fault, he knows, that they were so rocky early on, but he likes to think they’re past it now.
They’re past it, right?
Ignoring the voice in his head that’s saying what if you’ll never be past it? and before he can talk himself out of it, Lance reaches out and touches a careful hand to Keith’s wrist. “You’ve got us now.”
Keith stares at the point where Lance’s skin grazes his. It’s hard to tell if he’s okay with this development or not, but Lance resolved to leave his hand there unless Keith actually tells him not to.
He doesn’t. He looks up at Lance, eyes searching for God-knows-what in his face, and then asks quietly, “Do I?”
A long moment passes before Lance even remembers what he said before. A long moment in which Lance’s fingertips tingle against Keith’s cold skin and his cheeks burn under Keith’s probing gaze.
Are they still talking about the team?
“I - yes,” he eventually chokes out, matching Keith in volume. Anything louder will break the moment, he’s sure of it. “Of course, Keith, I - we’re always here for you.”
“Even though I wasn’t here for you?”
They’re definitely not talking about the team anymore.
They’ve somehow gravitated closer to each other, close enough that Lance could count Keith’s eyelashes if he wanted. That he can see just how sunken Keith’s cheeks are, how bloodshot his eyes are.
He thinks there was something he needed to say to Keith, but it doesn’t seem that important now.
This is...not what Lance was going for.
This - this isn’t okay, goddammit. They’re not okay.
And yet, Lance finds himself curling his fingers around Keith’s wrist and whispering, “Always.”
Fuck.
Okay, so that didn’t go exactly to plan. Well, really, there wasn’t a plan in the first place, but - but still. Everything Lance is angry about is still there, still hanging in the air around them, he just…thinks he might be the only one who feels it.
Which is typically, really. Just fucking typical.
He’s the one who’s been wronged, but he’s still the one comforting people. Jesus, Veronica was right when she said he had a savior complex.
Nope, no, not going there. Thinking about his sister is so not helpful right now.
How long has it been? Allura still hasn’t come back, so it can’t have been that long, but God, it feels like it’s been hours, standing here next to Keith.
Maybe someone will come in soon, break up...whatever the hell this is. He’s long since let go of Keith’s wrist, but he’s itching to touch him again. To hug him or punch him, he’s not sure.
Before he can sort that out, Keith‘s choked voice is saying, “I should’ve been there.”
Lance thinks there’s more sadness in those four words than he’s heard from Keith since he met him.
“Maybe it wouldn’t have...changed anything, or maybe it would’ve, but I -” Keith leans forward and rests his forearms on the pod (apparently not disrespectful enough for Keith not to do it), head dipping and hair curtaining his face. He sounds like he could start crying. Lance has no idea what the fuck is happening right now. “I should’ve fucking been there.”
And yeah, Lance gets that. That feeling, like he’s made the biggest fuck-up in the history of fuck-ups and now will always wonder if things would’ve been okay if he’d just done something differently.
He’s pretty much in a constant state of “should’ve, would’ve, could’ve”. It’s exhausting.
“Thinking like that doesn’t help anyone, Keith,” he murmurs. He knows this, and yet.
Keith gives a derisive laugh. “I know, I - I know , I just -”
His voice drops to a whisper. “I should’ve been there.”
To Lance’s absolute horror, Keith wipes roughly at his eyes with his sleeve when he lifts his head.
Jesus Christ.
How is it that it’s always him that people cry around?
The nice answer is that he’s easier to cry in front of, easier to be vulnerable around, easier for people to trust with their tears, than most people.
The real answer is probably just that he’s there. He constantly manages to be the person who’s just there when people break down. It’s a talent. Or a curse. He can’t tell.
Either way, it is what it is.
“It’s not your fault,” Lance says gently, despite wanting nothing more than to run away and never look back.
(Maybe that’s how Keith felt. Huh.)
Red-rimmed eyes meet his (there are no tears, currently. Small miracles). Keith says, “It’s not yours, either.”
He might not know Keith anymore, but Keith sure does know him.
Part of Lance still itches to punch him, but hugging him seems like it’ll be nicer for both of them.
Keith is stiff when Lance pulls him in and wraps his arms around his waist, but he relaxes quicker than Lance expected.
His arms loop under Lance’s and his hands burn holes in Lance’s shoulder blades.
“You know, you should be glad you weren’t here for the Clone Shiro Extravaganza. That thing was a real dick.”
Somehow, this is what drags a real, actual laugh out of Keith. It’s wet and scratchy, but it’s a laugh.
Lance grins for a second, revels in the sound of Keith’s laugh, before his smile drops because the clone was actually pretty awful to him and it’s kind of not funny. “He yelled at me once, during a mission talk.”
“What?”
“Yeah, uh -” Lance scratches at the back of his neck, Keith’s eyes boring into him yet again - he wouldn’t have brought this up if he’d known Keith would wind up this tight this fast. “We were trying to figure out our next move, and everyone was saying one thing while Shiro - the clone, I mean - was saying another. He and Allura were arguing, I tried to remind him that we were all on the same team, and he snapped at me like I was some - some little fucking kid who wanted to sit at the adult table.”
He laughs, ruefully, running a hand through his hair. “S’like what they say, huh? ‘Don’t meet your idols’?”
“That wasn’t -”
“I know, Keith. But it’s - I guess what I’m saying is that you’d think that would’ve given it away.”
“The hell are you -”
“Keith, don’t.” Lance stares at Shiro in the pod - pale, still, and the gray hair isn’t helping - so he doesn’t have to look at Keith. “I’m not trying to bad-mouth your - your mentor, or whatever -”
“Brother.”
Well, that question’s answered. “Yeah, okay, brother. I’m just saying that maybe the Shiro you knew and the Shiro that looked at me like he thought I was incompetent are two very different people.”
Keith is silent. Lance still can’t look at him, doesn’t want to know if he’s contemplating or fuming. Or both. It’s probably both.
The thing is, Keith doesn’t get it and he likely never will. He knows Shiro as Takashi Shirogane: mentor, friend, big brother extraordinaire. Lance knows him as Takashi Shirogane: leader of Voltron and nothing more. They’re not family, they’re not - if Lance is being honest, they’re not even friends.
“He doesn’t think you’re incompetent,” Keith says eventually.
Lance snorts. “Yeah, sure. Don’t worry, Keith, it’s fine - I think I’m incompetent, too.”
It’s sort of a joke. He says it like a joke, but he thinks they both know how much he means it.
Keith lets out a frustrated noise. Why Keith is the frustrated one here, Lance has no fucking clue.
“You’re not - Jesus, Lance, you’re not incompetent.” The words seem to come out a lot easier (and a lot sharper) this time than they did the last time the two of them talked about Lance’s...issues. What that means, Lance doesn’t know.
Clearly, the joke didn’t come across. “It doesn’t - that’s not the point, Keith. Shiro hates me.”
“He does not. ”
“Well, he doesn’t like me.”
“Of course he does.”
“Does not.”
“Does - Lance, I’m not doing this.”
“Because you know I’m right.”
“For fuck’s sake - Shiro doesn’t have a problem with you.”
“Doesn’t mean he likes me.”
“Lance, I don’t even like you.”
“Now, that one’s just not true.”
“...Okay, it’s not, but -”
Lance misses the rest of the sentence, because he actually didn’t know where he and Keith stood at this point. The words, the verbal confirmation that Keith doesn’t still hate him, make him feel…better now, at least. He’s still got a score to settle - how the fuck have they managed to dodge that conversation this long - but he feels better.
“Lance.”
He tunes back in with a tiny smile on his face. “Hm?”
“Lance, if Shiro didn’t like you, we wouldn’t have been able to form Voltron when he was on the team.”
“That’s...you can’t prove that.”
“I’m going to fucking slap you.”
They’re leaning closer again, what the fuck.
He’s smiling for real now. “You wouldn’t.”
So is Keith. “Try me.”
Why are they so close? There’s about eight, nine inches between them, and Lance cannot, for the life of him, puzzle out what any of this is.
The pod starts beeping.
They jerk away from each other, Keith immediately leaning over Shiro’s pod and trying to figure out why the hell it’s beeping. He yells for Allura, who comes running in as if she’d been standing a foot outside the cave (she probably was, damn her). Krolia and the wolf (he really needs a name, why does the wolf not have a fucking name?) are right on her heels.
He feels entirely inadequate as he backs away and watches Allura scan the readings on the pod, as she says, “There’s nothing I can do.”
Feels worse as Keith sobs over the pod, begs Shiro to fight, to please not do this to him again, and he can’t even move to comfort him.
When it happens, he doesn’t quite process the fact that Shiro’s pod is opening and Shiro’s eyes are opening and he’s alive, until Shiro has already hugged Keith and Allura and is turning to him and gesturing for him to come over.
His steps are jilted, but he makes it.
Shiro pulls him in for a hug, throwing his one arm around Lance’s neck and letting Lance wrap his arms around his torso and bury his face in Shiro’s shoulder.
He can feel Keith smirking behind him. He moves one hand just enough to be in Keith’s line of sight and flips him the bird.
Keith cracks up and it sounds like coming home.
