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Shit .
Smoke had begun to fill the entire room. Lance spun on his heels, looking for an exit. There was no roof access. He was on too high of a floor to take the window. That left the stairs heading down.
The smoke hit Lance’s lungs, and he let out a heavy cough, the ash burning in his airways.
He lifted up his hand to close the visor on his helmet, but he stopped himself. It would be pointless. He’d only trap smoke within, forcing him to breath only that. He’d have to make do.
He stooped low to the ground, heading towards the stairs’ entryway. He’d have to face the fire.
It took all of Keith’s immediate energy not fall into a full panic attack. The building before him had suddenly burst into flames, the heat of which, although not entirely close, still licking at Keith’s face.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Keith willed himself to be patient with himself. He’d have to get through this.
When his own breathing was the only thing he could hear, static suddenly sounded in his ears.
“What’s going on?”
“What happened?”
“Where’s Lance?”
“Keith?”
“Keith, are you there?”
The words were loud, overlapping, and Keith could barely process what he was hearing. The light from the fire before him was almost blinding, threatening to take down all his other senses with it. He could feel the sweat building up under his armor, pooling down at his palms. His knees went weak, and his whole body felt like static.
“Keith.” A strong, familiar voice called out to him. “Keith. Are you with me?”
Shocked out of his trance, he glanced around for a moment, searching for the source of the voice, only to realize it was coming from the communicator in his helmet.
“Shiro. I’m here.” He couldn’t help but notice how rough his own voice sounded.
“Keith.” Shiro started once again. “I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, but you’re the closest.”
Keith struggled to keep himself out of the hole his mind wanted to fall into. The hole that Shiro was referring to.
“Lance is still in there. He’s not responding. You have to get him out.”
The world started to spin around Keith. He knew these words were coming, but that didn’t stop him from fearing the inevitable.
The feelings of static began to surge stronger as Keith forced his legs forward. His mind couldn’t focus on anything, so it settled on focusing on nothing. He had to enter that burning building. He had to run past the flames. He had to save his teammate. He had to…
Visions flickered into life in front of his eyes. His father. He was there, smiling, dressed up in his uniform, his personal protective gear. He fondly glanced at Keith, before turning to face the burning building.
“I’ll only be gone a moment. ”
Keith knew the lie in his father’s words. He wouldn’t be gone a moment. He’d never be back.
Keith found himself reaching out after his father. A scream of protest left his lips, but never reached his ears. His father walked on, entering the flames.
Keith’s whole body started to shake, adrenaline flooding his veins. He couldn’t let his father leave him like this. Not again. He took off running, following his father into the building.
And as soon as he was indoors, the world came crashing back around him.
Keith took note of his surroundings. He was just in the front room. Was it a lobby? Smoke came bellowing down the hallway from the direction he needed to go. Lance was somewhere in here.
He picked up a fast pace, wanting to get in and out as soon as he could. Each intrusive thought caused him to pull his hand into a tighter fist, until he was sure his nails might break through the gloves.
Don’t think. Don’t think. Just move.
There he was.
Lance sat, curled up in the corner of a room as far away as he could get from the flames. His arms wrapped tight over his head, as if they could protect him from the bright lights.
Keith ran over as soon as he could, thankful for the armor's ability to protect them from the brunt of the fire. But something was off with Lance. Each one of his breaths came loud and wheezing, harsh from where the smoke had taken its toll. The blue paladin raised his head to view his rescuer, and that’s when Keith saw it. Lance’s helmet had been left open. Flames had managed to lick their way across his left cheek, round to his ear, and down the side of his neck, leaving pink blistering marks, outlined in black.
Keith found it hard to ignore the way his stomach leapt into his throat. The ideas of his father suffering a similar but far worse face flickered at the edges of his mind.
Don’t think. Just run.
He couldn’t bare to say any words, just grabbing Lance’s hand and forcefully guiding him out of the burning building.
By the time they had exited, Keith couldn’t tell if there was nothing, or everything going on in his head.
The hand in his suddenly slipped away.
No .
His father was leaving again.
Keith’s panic stricken body finally gave up holding it all in. He felt himself collapse as his world grew dark, as the fire left his vision. Tears fell, catching on the chin of helmet.
Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave again.
Warm arms surrounded his shoulders, providing focus to his spinning mind.
Maybe it would be okay this time.
Each struggled gasp tore through Hunk’s heart. Lance had inhaled too much smoke, his eyes distant from a lack of oxygen.
“Hunk… hurts.” Lance rasped as Hunk led him away from the flames. He couldn’t tell if Lance was referring to his soot filled lungs or the sickly burn on his face.
“Just hang in there,” Hunk supported his friend, “just a little longer.”
They were headed to where the yellow lion was parked close by, away from the flames, away from further danger.
Hunk couldn’t get it out of his mind the way that Keith had broken the second he pulled Lance from his grasp. Shiro was with him now, bringing him back to his senses. But Hunk couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong, beyond the surface events that had just happened.
With one final glance over his shoulder before entering the lion, Hunk took in the scene.
Shiro had forcefully moved the trembling Keith away from the building, holding him in a tight embrace. His words filtered across the strangely quiet scene.
“You did great. Thank you. Everyone’s okay. You’re okay.”
Lance winced as the cold burn cream was pressed against the side of his face, an action which elicited more heavy coughing. A hand rested against his shoulder as Hunk shushed him.
Hunk had set him up in the pilot seat of the yellow lion, crouching to his side as he tended to his wounds. The lion was flying herself, rushing back to the castle upon Shiro’s orders.
Another loud, wet cough filled the air, protesting Hunk’s shushing.
“Deep breaths, Lance,” Hunk took a complete break from dressing the burn in order to rub his hand up and down Lance’s back. “Deep breaths.”
Lance closed his eyes, doing his best to focus on something else, to focus on breathing. But his mind refused to comply, quickly returning to the sharp pain on the side of his face. It hurt. Bad. But what hurt more was the realization of the lasting effect it would leave.
He winced once again as his burn came into contact with the salty tears streaming down his cheeks.
All Hunk could do was pray they didn't have much farther to go.
“Is Keith gonna be okay?” Hunk turned to Shiro a while after their return to the castle.
Lance had been placed in a healing pod, and Keith had gone off to his room to rest. Shiro had been hesitant to leave him alone.
Shiro considered for a moment, not sure how to answer. “He’ll be… It was just a rough day for him.”
Shiro knew of Keith’s father’s tragic fate. He knew it didn’t rest well in Keith’s mind. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for sending him in there. But with Lance’s condition, they couldn’t have waited any longer. He promised himself, as their leader, that it was the right decision. But the guilt still lived.
Lance hated how it looked. The raised, discolored skin wrapped from his temple down his neck, a forever memory of how he couldn’t just close his helmet.
He stared at himself in the mirror, unapplied face mask in hand. He hadn’t used one since the event. He could barely think about his skin, let alone look in a mirror. Sometimes he noticed the others having trouble looking at him too.
He just wanted to cover it up.
Carelessly, he began to smother his face with the mask, not caring enough to use anything other than his fingers. He just wanted it on, and the burn out of sight. Every time it filled his vision, a choked sob filled his throat. He wanted the burn gone.
Lance walked the halls of the castle, heading towards the kitchen, face mask covering him like a safety blanket. It was late, he was thirsty, and he was hoping that no one would be up for him to run into.
He was wrong.
Keith was up, unable to sleep, just finished driving himself to exhaustion in the training room. Upon exiting was where he bumped into Lance in the hallway.
Keith ducked his head, prepared to push past Lance and go hide in his room. He couldn’t bare to see Lance. Not since the last fight.
Lance had been noticing this, his previous want for seclusion bubbling into frustration.
“What’s your problem?” Lance spoke, more subdued than he was expecting. “Is it this?” He referred to his face without even gesturing.
Lance knew he was sounding accusatory. He regretted that. He didn’t blame Keith. He just didn’t want to be treated any different than he had been before.
Keith shrugged, avoiding eye contact.
Looking at Lance meant going back there, back to the flames. When he saw Lance and he saw the burn, he saw the fire, and he saw his father. His father who was gone. His father who died in the very same situation that Keith had to put himself in to save Lance. His father whose death caused him to be broken like this. His brokenness which caused him to hesitate.
“I’m sorry.” Keith finally uttered. “It’s my fault.”
“What?” Lance replied, shocked.
“It’s my fault. I hesitated.” Keith found himself stuck, frozen, unmoving, tears threatening to fall. “If I wasn’t like this- If i wasn’t so broken…”
“Keith.” Lance spoke, cutting off his negative train of thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yes.” Keith continued to refuse to look at Lance. His voice grew louder in his desperation. He struggled to keep himself looking strong. “It was. If I had just moved faster and-”
He was cut off by an unexpected hug.
“Shut up. It’s not your fault.” Lance carefully rested his chin on Keith’s shoulder through the hug. “We’re all broken. It sucks. It’s shitty. I know. I’m stuck here manically keeping up with health and skin care because it’s the only thing that could keep me grounded through depression. This new addition makes it hard on that. It sucks. But I don’t blame you. I never did and never will. I don’t know what you’re going through, but, don’t blame yourself, okay? It’s not your fault. You saved me.”
Keith pulled back, actually looking at Lance for the first time in days. He didn’t fail to miss the slight bumpiness where the face mask covered the burn. But it was okay.
Keith wasn’t good with talking. It seemed Lance was though, outing his depressed habits in an effort to make sure that Keith knew he was not alone. Keith wanted to return the favor, to be open with his teammate. He wasn’t good with talking, but maybe he’d be able to one day. There was one thing he knew he could say though.
“Thank you.”