Work Text:
Keith takes a moment after everything is all said and done and lets his breath shudder in and out. He tries to compose himself but the more he tries, the more he trembles from the onslaught of emotions and exhaustion. He grips the controls and leans forward as the first sob escapes him.
“Keith, if anything happens to me, I want you to take my place as the Black Paladin.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“How many times are you going to save me?”
“As many times as it takes.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Keith, I died.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Shiro’s taken off with Lotor. We don’t have a Black Paladin. Who’s going to fly the Black Lion?”
“I will.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Keith doesn’t hear the footsteps, doesn’t register that the Black Lion has let anyone else in until he feels warm hands gently prying his fingers from the controls. Long fingers slowly massage his hands until they start to relax from their previous white-knuckled grip. He doesn’t fight when firm hands lift him to his feet from where he was sitting but as he’s being pulled away he finally looks up and with a broken voice he says one word, “Shiro.”
Lance stops and pushes a lock of hair from Keith’s forehead, “He’s going to be okay. Allura and Coran are looking after him.”
Keith just blinks and looks around the cockpit of the Black Lion as if he’s lost. "The team. I need....they...."
Lance gently tugs at his elbow, “Everyone else is okay as well. Let’s go get that cut on your face taken care of.”
Keith doesn’t even nod. He just follows Lance blindly. Lance said Shiro was okay so it must be true. Lance would never lie to him.
Keith stumbles along and it isn’t until Lance is pushing him to sit down does he realize he’s in the Red Lion. A wave of nostalgia hits him until the smell of antiseptic brings him back to the present. Lance looks at him with sad eyes, “This is going to sting.”
Keith nods and Lance was right. He can’t help the hiss or the flinch as the cut on his face burns almost as bad as the moment it happened. Lance reaches out with his free hand to cradle the back of Keith’s head to keep it from slamming into the wall, “Sorry, sorry. I’m sorry Keith.”
Keith blinks fast but can’t stop the tears as his face continues to burn, “It’s ok. It’s not your fault.”
Lance nods, “I need to clean it a few more times. I’m sorry.”
Keith nods again but this time he braces for the pain. The next few times are nowhere near as painful but he still can’t help the few hisses even though Lance is trying to be as gentle as possible.
Once his face is taken care of, Lance gently begins to remove Keith’s armor. Keith can only watch as Lance removes his arm guards first, then his chest plate, each piece removed with the utmost care. He feels Lance shift behind him and unzips the black under suit. He carefully peels the black material from Keith’s shoulders and off his arms. He continues his careful ministrations cleaning each cut with meticulous care.
Keith can’t help the full body tremble when he feels a press of warm lips on his shoulder. His voice is broken and he can’t stop the tears as those lips trail over the scar on his right shoulder from the trials with the Blades. “Lance.”
Lance doesn’t stop. He cleans cut after cut, rubs healing cream on bruise after bruise and kisses each scar that’s littered along Keith’s back and arms.
Lance is now back in front of Keith. He traces just outside of the cut along Keith’s face, “That’s probably going to leave a nasty scar.”
Keith doesn’t nod, doesn’t acknowledge. He doesn’t really care. All he cares about are the scars of his heart that Lance seems to know how to heal with each gentle touch.