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He’d had enough.
Keith stumbled blindly through the woods, with the sun setting and the tall trees there was hardly any light shining into the forest. It’s not like he needed much anyways; he knew these woods like the back of his hand.
He grown up here… with his father and with Shiro.
He’d had enough.
First it was his dad; getting the phone call late into the night, curled into Shiro’s side as they watched Bigfoot conspiracy documentaries. He’d been asked to babysit young Keith while his father went out on a job. He died that night, running into a burning building, to save someone who was never there.
Keith fell apart, and Shiro was always there to pick up the pieces. Raising him like they were brothers, helping Keith through his trauma, calming him down when he became over angered. He was just starting to get good. Just started to get his shit together before Shiro left to cross the ocean. And never came back.
That was something Keith had just found out about about an hour ago. Ever since then, he’s been walking in this forest, pill bottle clenched in hand, intent burning in his gut and the back of his eyes. He couldn’t stop crying if he tried.
As soon as that willow tree came into view, Keith broke out into a sprint. This is where he always came when he was overly distressed. When he couldn’t even go to Shiro to help him. This is where he calmed himself; his happy place.
This is where Keith would join them.
He collapsed at the trunk of the tree, breath heaving out in lung-shattering gasps, choking around tears while trying to catch his breath from running. His back hit the tree hard, head resting there as well, and as soon as he could breathe again, he started crying. Hard crying. The type of crying that would embarrass him if anyone was there to see him.
No one was here, though. This was Keith’s safe space.
He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and pushing his face into his knees. The pill bottle he had been gripping for dear life rolled dejectedly out of his hand, hands instead carding into his hair, reflexes protecting him from something he couldn’t be protected from.
No, this threat wasn’t external. This was all inside him. He’d rip the bloody thing out if he could; tear open his stomach and yank out the burning pain residing there. Scraping the lump out of his throat so he could finally fucking breathe.
This wasn’t something his body could protect him from. Keith lifted his head, teary eyes looking around in the dark night to find where he’d dropped the pill bottle. It was nowhere in sight. He could’ve swore it had hit his foot… but then, there was a light.
Not a harsh light… a soft one. A warm glow that made Keith’s chest ache with longing. It felt like the hug he desperately needed, the reassurement he craved. The things no one could give to him. He rubbed the tears out of his eyes with the palms of his hands, then looked towards the light.
There was… it was a man?
He was beautiful; dressed in an off-white, barely see through dress. The muscle of his body did nothing to make it look off, if anything he looked even more beautiful because of it. The sleeves slid down his bicep, ending just at the bottom in the front, while the back of the sleeve continued, leaving a backdrop of fabric to contrast with the dark skin of his forearms. He was very tanned, messy brown hair sitting atop his head, a few red flowers stuck in the strands popping out in color. His eyes were bright blue, almost glowing in the night atmosphere, long lashes framing the hues. Small button nose. Delicate, light pink lips. A cute, rounded chin.
This man looked… otherworldly.
“Are… you ok?” he whispered. His voice was soft and melodic, barely needing to speak loud to soothe Keith’s nerves. He could feel his muscles relax just a little before tensing back up, the burning behind his eyes growing strong with the need to cry again.
“Right, stupid question… um. What were you going to do with this?” he continued, holding up Keith’s pill bottle in his right hand. Keith never noticed him take the thing. Damn, was Keith that out of it that he couldn’t see anyone walk up to him until they started glowing like a fucking star?
Keith didn’t think he could answer; he swallowed thickly, choking slightly around the lump in his throat, and then the tears were spilling over again.
He definitely didn’t want to cry in front of a stranger, his self esteem would never recover, but… somehow, this man didn’t feel like a stranger. Something about those red flowers tugged at his memory… it was so familiar, but just out of reach of his mind.
With a soft sigh, the man dropped the pill bottle to the grass, and he did the thing Keith had least expected him to do. He started singing. Singing. Like this was a fucking Disney princess movie. As much as Keith wanted to scoff, he held his breath to listen to this man… his voice was angelic. His words hit too close to home.
“You don’t have to speak… don’t need to talk to me…” he sang softly, all the while slowly approaching Keith, hesitantly, as if he was an animal he could scare away if he moved too fast. Maybe he was.
Keith let the man sit beside him, stared at him as he raised a hand gently, hesitating to reach out.
“Baby, I already know.”
As soon as the man’s hand touched Keith’s arm, the tears flooded to his eyes as fast as they were before, wail breaking his voice as the man pulled him into a hug. Keith didn’t think twice about wrapping his arms around him, burying his head into the crook of his neck.
“The shadows in your head, they’ve got you down again, got you feelin’ low,” he soothed, voice as soft as satin as he ran a hand over his hair, comforting in a way that made Keith cry a little harder.
“But it’s time to rest, now, let it all melt now.” The boy’s hands fell to Keith’s shoulders, pushing him off him gently, just enough so they could face each other. Then those hands slid up from his shoulders, drifting lightly over his neck, and delicately held his face.
“Wipe your tears.” As he sang this, he let his thumbs stroke over Keith’s cheekbones, wiping away the fat tears that had rolled down his face. That stream stopped for a moment, and Keith blinked the remaining tears out of his eyes to look at the boy's face clearly. He was even more beautiful up close; dark freckles sprinkled over his nose, small mole a little under his bottom lip, eyes as bright as the morning sky.
“The sun’s already set, now,” he continued, and Keith let himself move to rest against the boy, gently putting his back against the stranger’s chest and letting his arms wrap around his waist. He leaned into his warmth, resting the back of his head on the boy’s shoulder, and resting his arms atop the ones circling him. He could already feel the tension seeping out of his body, deflating him like a balloon.
“Won’t you go to sleep, now? I’ll see you in your dreams.”
As he sang, he could feel the rumble in his chest through his back. He turned his head a little towards the boy’s, pushing his head against his cheek. The boy responded by taking one of Keith’s hands, lacing their fingers together gently. It should’ve felt odd… but Keith hadn’t felt this comfortable since his dad was alive.
“‘Cause I’m right here… Darlin’ I’m right here.”
And that hit Keith a little too close to home, causing a few tears to make their way out of his eyes, dropping onto the boy’s chest. He… he was here. He thought he had no one, but he was right here.
“Close your pretty eyes, my butterfly.” Keith gasped at that… there was only one person who ever called him that.
That was the name that brought that memory to the forefront of his mind.
When he was a kid, he used to come play in the forest all the time, as his dad was always out doing his job. Every time he went in the forest, he’d come straight to this tree. A young boy would always be there, no matter what time of day. Always waiting, twisting red flowers around others, making flower crowns with skilled fingers. He’d made Keith many. Although he had told him his name, the boy always called him butterfly. He had said it was because of the color of his eyes… what was held in them. He never understood what he meant.
After his father passed, he stopped going to the willow tree. It reminded him too much of when his father was alive. He’d stopped seeing Lance.
His name… was Lance.
Keith sat up just enough to turn his head towards Lance, looking him in the eyes as recognition came in a wave. How did he not see it? He had the same cute nose, the same sweet smile, the same perfect, pearly white teeth. The same eye color.
“Baby, have no fear.”
Lance reached a hand out, cupping his cheek once again, stroking his thumb at nothing, simply feeling.
“The future’s lookin’ bleak,” he continued, moving his hand to stroke the back of his fingers over Keith’s cheek. Keith moved back in, then, pushing his back into Lance again and snuggling closer. Lance didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him again.
“Your will to live is weak, but honey, hold on for me.”
“Lance,” Keith sighed, pushing his head into his cheek again, taking both of Lance’s hands and squeezing them a little tighter.
“I know that you’re an angel, but it’s not your time to fly now.”
Keith’s head moved again, pushing his own cheek into Lance’s collarbone. In a sudden, yet slow movement, Lance removed himself from Keith’s hold, standing and staring down at him expectantly. He held a hand out, and Keith didn’t hesitate in taking it, letting himself get pulled up to his feet too.
Lance didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, he tugged him away from the tree, deeper into the nighttime forest. Now, they had the light of the moon to guide them a little better, though it was still dark. Lance didn’t seem to have a problem with that. Keith was about to ask where he was taking him, but then they stopped. It took him a moment to process what he was looking at; a small, dingy looking shack… colorful blue and red bed sheets covering obvious holes in the ceiling where the wood likely collapsed inwards.
Another memory; Keith and Lance’s “treehouse”. Keith had always argued it wasn’t an actual treehouse, since it wasn’t actually in a tree. Lance always told him to pretend. They played and slept together there all the time when they were young.
“We need you here on earth.”
Keith turned to look at Lance then, a question likely shining in his eyes. He only smiled fondly, staring at him as if he was the sun itself.
“Stay right here…” he sang softly, pulling Keith closer to him by the hand still locked into his fingers. He went willingly, letting Lance wrap his arms around his waist, and in turn sliding his arms around his shoulders. Their faces were inches apart, but Keith felt anything but nervous. Something about him… always made him feel at ease. He never doubted Lance’s feelings or actions. Never questioned them. He wasn’t going to start now.
“I’ll stay here with you, my dear.”
At that, Keith’s eyes widened, sting threatening to bring back that onslaught of salty tears. He already felt dehydrated from crying so much. Lance must’ve agreed.
“Look up to the sky and know… I am still alive because you want me to be.”
Keith glanced up at the sky, gasping at the constellations as clear as day above them. They were beautiful, and he could have stared at them all day, but… he found his eyes drifting back to Lance’s. Those stars may be beautiful, but they had nothing on the lovestruck look on Lance’s face right now.
“Remember my dear…” Lance spoke gently instead of singing, voice silky and deep, sounding just as captivating as he was singing. “You’re strong. You’re loved. You’re beautiful… so beautiful…” he paused at that, moving a hand from around him to hold Keith’s jaw.
“Lance, I know how it looked,” Keith tried to explain, but Lance shook his head, stopping his explanation in his throat.
“You belong here on Earth… nothing that ever happens to you should change that. You deserve to be alive… to live and love and be loved.” Keith’s throat contracted, and he swallowed down the need to cry again. Instead, he moved his head closer to Lance’s, pressing their foreheads together gently and brushing each other’s noses affectionately.
“I have no one left to love me, Lance.”
“I love you, Keith… I always have.”
Keith couldn’t stop the small sob that clawed its way out of his throat at that. He was so overwhelmed… relief and joy and pain and sadness rushing through his head, threatening to suffocate him.
“I love you,” Lance whispered again, then pressed forward, gently capturing Keith’s lips in his own.
He was drowning. Keith was drowning. Lance pulled him closer with one arm, raked his fingers through his hair with the other. He responded by digging his own fingers into the soft strands of Lance’s hair.
Keith was drowning… but he didn’t want to be saved.