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Lance was tired. Every part of him was exhausted and at its breaking point and yet, he went through his normal routine day by day, week by week.
For the most part, he went to school as normal and got through his classes and smiled or waved to the people he knew. It was never more, he wasn't close to others in his classes, just friendly.
He went to work and smiled at the customers, was polite, and joked around with his coworkers. He made his best attempt to make things feel normal for them.
He hung out with friends when plans were made and cracked jokes, keeping his known attitude at the front. He was silly and caring and that never changed in their interactions.
He picked up the late night calls from his friends in trouble and helped them through it, because Lance would be damned if he didn't at least try to help and make things better.
And yet, through his efforts and attempts to get through things as usual, Lance was falling apart.
Lance was barely making it through classes and focusing took everything in him. His grades were slipping and his attendance was suffering because of his state. Sometimes being awake was too much for Lance, so he closed his eyes and let sleep wash over him, if it went into class time, well, who could blame him for skipping.
Work was becoming something he got through and didn't process fully, it became an autonomous part of his routine and while not bad, it made him even more tired at the end of the day.
His friends felt distant and it hurt. While Pidge and Hunk where physically a long distance away, they called each other occasionally, FaceTiming and complaining about the connection issues. They joked and caught up and Lance couldn't bring himself to talk about what was going on with him. So he smiled, laughed and listened to his friends talk about their lives, and when asked about his he merely shrugged, smirked and just said, “It's tiring.” And he wasn't lying, with every day that passed, Lance caught himself being more and more tired. With his friends close by, Lance hung out with them when plans were made. He talked and interacted and had fun and for a few hours things felt okay, he felt connected and warm inside.
Then, at night when he went back to his apartment, the loneliness and cold came back. He laid down in his bed and closed his eyes and slept, ignoring responsibilities and socialization.
And yet, even on his worst days Lance did his most to help others around him. A late night call with a friend wasn't uncommon, especially with their lives and the hectic aspect of them. He always talked to them and helped as much as he could, it was the least he could do for those he loved. Hell, a call had happened just a few nights ago.
Lance woke up to a loud ringing near his ear. His phone displayed a call from Hunk, he spared a second to look at the time and answered the phone.
“Hunk?” Lance’s voice came out deep and groggy and he winced as he heard it.
The man on the other end let out a loud sob and any sleepiness in Lance's body left. He sat up in his bed and started to utter reassurances to his friend and calming words to ease his friends pain.
After a few moments Hunk began to speak and poured his troubles out and Lance listened and offered his piece. Even after things were talked about, he began to crack jokes and check in often throughout the call to make sure his friend was okay .
At one point Hunk went quiet and then let out a simple sentence that meant the world to Lance. “I fucking hate being away from you. I want to hug you and annoy you, because you're my best friend man, and I should be able to do that”.
Lance had let out a laugh and continued the conversation until Hunk fell asleep on the other line and Lance hung up, at ease, knowing his friend was doing slightly better.
He cared for others, it was his thing, it was consistent in his life and Lance needed consistency. As many times before, Lance wondered if he called someone and finally talked about his issues, would they do the same for me?
The simple answer is, probably. They would talk and get through it for the night but what happened when they knew Lance felt like shit every day? He knew they would get accustomed to it and start to brush it off more, he knew because it's what he did for himself when he noticed the change in him.
Lance stared up at his bedroom ceiling and thought hard about every outcome, it's what he did. He didn't feel okay and he was tired and lonely. He felt scared and isolated and he wanted it to stop. Asking for help was terrifying but Lance wanted the coldness inside of him to leave, he wanted to feel happy and close to others again and he wanted to feel okay.
Lance picked up his phone and for once in his life was selfish. He went to the phone app, pressed the call button under his friends name and waited.