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Keith is leaving. He’s walking past the group after telling them he won’t be staying and no one’s saying anything. He’s leaving and Lance’s heart is in his throat because no one’s stopping him.
Keith is leaving and Lance doesn’t want him to go. He didn’t want this. This isn’t a solution. Keith leaving was never the solution.
Lance is sorry he ever thought it was, that he’d celebrated back at the Garrison when Keith had been expelled. Because it had given Lance what he’d wanted, a spot as a fighter pilot. And now it’s happening again. Keith is leaving and Lance is ensured a spot as a paladin. And he wants that. He does.
Lance has never felt quite so at home as he does with Blue, but he doesn’t want Keith to leave either. Keith loves being a paladin. Lance knows it, can feel it every time they form Voltron.
But now Keith is walking past him and he can’t get any of that out. The words won’t make it past the knot in Lance’s throat and they’re strangling him.
He’s so afraid to reach out, to ask Keith to stay for fear he won’t, that he’ll still walk away, that he might take Lance’s heart with him. But as Keith steps level with Lance and then past him, desperation overwhelms him, forcing him to act.
His eyes burn even as he chokes, fingers just catching on the hem of Keith’s shirt at the last moment. He’s almost out of reach but Lance manages to just catch him. It’s weak, the touch barely there where he pinches Keith’s shirt between his fingers. It shouldn’t be enough to catch Keith’s attention, to draw him to a stop but it is. He freezes like Lance had grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked.
All Lance can do is drag in breath after breath, thick and ragged, eyes fixed on his fingers against dark fabric, terrified to look up.
Lance can’t get the words out no matter how many times he swallows, so he finally lifts his eyes to Keith’s, scared and reaching and he shakes his head.
Keith looks confused, dark eyebrows coming together curiously, waiting for an answer but not knocking Lance’s hand away. Lance wants to say so many things. Things like ‘you don’t have to do this’, like ‘I don’t want this’, or ‘please stay’ but his voice fails him.
Lance’s grip tightens just a little in Keith’s shirt as tears flood his eyes. This isn’t what he meant, isn’t what he wanted when he’d gone to Keith to express his insecurities.
Lance shakes his head, breath hitching as his lips form the words without sound.
Don’t go.
Keith’s eyes drop to his mouth, tracking the movement and Lance says it again.
Don’t go. He swallows thickly, his throat so tight it hurts. Please. Stay. He shakes his head again, fingers curling tighter in Keith’s shirt.
He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head again, fighting back a sob.
I’m not worth this, it won’t make you happy; please don’t go!
He knows Keith can’t understand him, can’t catch the words spilling mutely out of him but Lance doesn’t care.
The knot is turning into a sob.
Fingers touch the inside of his wrist and Lance opens his eyes. Keith's expression has softened with understanding, a shadow of a smile on his mouth. What he understands Lance doesn’t know, isn’t sure he really understands himself, but Keith cradles the underside of his wrist with a hand and whispers.
“Okay.”
Lance sags, pulling a breath past the noose around his throat and Keith’s grip tightens.
He turns his head back towards the group without taking his eyes off Lance.
“Change of plans.” Lance looks at him again, still hardly daring to believe, his eyes darting back and forth between Keith’s. “Think I’m gonna stay.”
Pidge looks up from their tablet, glancing back and forth between them and the strange tension that’s building.
“But the lions...I thought there were too many pilots?”
Keith turns to face them fully, grip on Lance tightening, feeling sure of himself and his decision.
“We’ll make it work.”