Chapter Text
Three Years Ago
A promise of love.
That’s what Allura had given him.
But now it was gone.
Keith finds him first. He is curled up on the floor of Allura’s room, staring blankly at the wall. His throat is raw and his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth. He has no energy left in him to scream, to cry, to move, to do anything. He feels numb. There’s a persisting nothingness pressing in on him, suffocating him.
He wants to tell Keith to go away. He doesn’t want his pity. He doesn’t want to hear people tell him that it will be okay. That he will be okay. Because he is not okay, not even in the slightest.
But Keith doesn’t say any of those things. He doesn’t say anything at all. He just sits next to Lance and pulls him close. He wraps Lance in a tight hug and holds him while a fresh wave of tears spill. Still, he says nothing but Lance knows what the gesture means.
I’m here for you, it says.
Shiro finds them hours later, tangled up in each other and fast asleep.
Present Day
Lance looks forward to the gathering on New Altea every year. It’s one of the very few times a year that the former Paladins all get to be together again, and Lance has learned to cherish every single second they get to spend with each other. It’s hard, with each of them taking their own paths in life, but their bond is stronger than time and distance. Lance has learned that too.
The moment the ship touches down, Lance is racing out of it and into the arms of his best friend.
“Lance!” Hunk grasps him tightly, lifting Lance clear off his feet, “I missed you so much man, it’s been forever!”
“Hunk,” Lance wheezes, “Can’t… breathe!”
Hunk releases him from the death grip with a muttered sorry, and then a much smaller person is barreling into Lance.
“You freaking loser.” They say, wrapping their small arms around Lance’s waist, “You never told us you were coming.”
Lance laughs, feeling happiness bubble up inside of him as he hugs Pidge back, “I wanted to surprise you guys. Didn’t think it would work though, as if I’d miss this!”
Pidge releases him and steps back. Lance takes a moment to observe his two friends. It’s been nearly six months since he saw them last and Lance realizes just how much he missed them.
“Are you taller?” He asks Pidge, “I think you’re taller.”
Pidge rolls their eyes, “You say that every time. I’m a growing kid Lance.” And Lance notices the bags under their eyes and the ashy tone to their skin.
“Growing kids also need sleep.” Lance replied pointedly. Honestly Pidge was the worst with sleep. Lance was pretty sure they didn’t sleep at all during their time with Voltron. There had been more than one occasion where he had run into Pidge downing the alien equivalent of coffee at one in the morning aboard the Castle of Lions.
Pidge waves him off, “I’m fine, I’m working on a new project.”
Hunk places a hand next to his mouth and not-so-subtly whispers, “Excuses.” That earns a hard jab in the side from Pidge. Lance feels warm and giddy at seeing his friends in person. Video chats are simply not the same.
“Is Keith here yet?” He asks. Pidge and Hunk exchange a look and Lance’s stomach drops.
“He was here,” Hunk says, “But he had to run to Diabaazal. He said he’ll try to be back for tomorrow.”
Lance nods, trying not to feel too disappointed. Keith is a busy man, but he always tried to make his friends a priority. If he had to go to Diabaazal, it must be incredibly important. His hand slips into his pocket where the folded piece of paper rests, and he silently pleads that Keith will return in time.
Three Years Ago
It was raining.
Again.
There was a time when Lance would cherish the rain. He would run outside with no umbrella or raincoat, spread his arms wide and just let himself enjoy the experience of getting soaked to the skin. If it had rained hard enough there would be puddles for him to splash around in. He would return indoors, sopping wet and covered with mud and his mother would yell him, but he knew it carried no heat. She was happy that he was happy, and after taking a nice warm shower she would always have a cup of coco waiting for him.
Lance felt no inclination to go frolic in the rain now. In fact he was quite annoyed by it. It had been raining non-stop for the past week and a half and Lance was tired.
But to be honest, he was always tired these days.
Lance sat on the couch, staring numbly out the window at the rain. How long had he been there? He had no idea. He didn’t even recall getting out of bed to sit on the couch. There was a cup of tea in his hands. When did that get there? He didn’t know and he didn’t particularly care. He should get up, clean out his mug and maybe eat something. But that took a lot of energy, and he didn’t have any energy. In fact, just thinking about getting up was sapping him of energy, so instead he just sat there on the couch, staring at the rain.
The best way to describe how he felt was blank.
It was minutes, or maybe hours later, when the doorbell rang. Lance heard it distantly, but he made no move to answer it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.
The doorbell rang again and Lance heard it more fully this time. Distantly he realized that he should get up and see who was at the door, but that was too much. He just wanted to sit on the couch and feel blank.
Whoever was at the door was annoyingly persistent though and they started knocking. Groaning, Lance yanked himself off the couch and wandered towards the door. They must have seen him through the window, Lance concluded. They knew he was home.
An emotion starts to swell in Lance and it takes him a moment to pinpoint what it was.
Annoyance.
He was annoyed at this person behind the door, because they should know that Lance really didn’t want to talk to anybody. He had made that abundantly clear when he moved into the guest house.
The annoyance gave him the energy he needed to march the last few steps to the door and fling it open with a sharp, “What?”
He had been expecting to see his parents, or his sisters or maybe even Shiro. What he had not been expecting was to see Keith, a duffel bag in hand.
“Hey man,” Keith says, one hand coming up to run through his hair, “My place kinda got destroyed in Sendak’s invasion, and the Blade gave me a leave so I was wondering if I could stay with you for a bit.”
Lance lifts an eyebrow, “Why don’t you stay with Shiro.” His tone is dripping bitterness, but he doesn’t care.
Keith levels him with a stare, “Because I don’t want to stay with Shiro, I want to stay with you.” The way he says it is so open and honest and Lance can feel his defenses crumbling.
“Fine.” He grumbles, stepping aside to let Keith in, and for the first time since Allura’s death, Lance feels something more than just a passing emotion.
As much as he doesn’t want Keith there, he can’t help but feel grateful.
Present Day
The sun is setting and Lance finds himself alone with Shiro on the front porch of the small home they all stay in. It’s modest, but it’s enough for all the Paladins to fit comfortably and enjoy their time together away from the prying eyes of the city.
“Congratulations on your engagement.” Lance says, “Curtis is a really lucky guy.”
Shiro gives a small, soft smile, “I’m the lucky one.” He replies, “And thank you.”
Lance’s hands can’t seem to be still. He’s running them through his hair, sticking them in his pockets, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Shiro notices, of course he does, and says, “Is something bothering you?
“How did you move on?” Lance blurts, “After Adam? How did you know you were ready for love again?”
Shiro looks surprised, but it melts into a fond expression that Lance can’t quite decipher. “I don’t think I’ll ever really move on from Adam.” He says softly, “But I also know that Adam wants me to be happy.” He says it with such certainty, “Honestly, if I never tried to find love again, Adam would probably kick my butt when I got the afterlife.” He chuckles lightly, and Lance joins him.
“Allura would do the same.” He says.
“Allura would also want you to be happy.” Shiro looks at him, and the intensity of his stare almost scares Lance, “You deserve to be happy.”
Lance’s hands find the note tucked in his pocket, “I know.” He whispers, “I’m just scared that I’m not ready.”
“He’ll wait for you to be ready.” Shiro says, and Lance isn’t even remotely surprised that he knows. He’s not exactly subtle.
“He deserves-” Lance is cut off by Shiro’s strong grip on his arm.
“Don’t.” He says, “Don’t start thinking that way.”
Lance lets out a sigh, “I know.” He admits, “But sometimes it’s just easier to run from it.”
“It is.” Shiro agrees, “But think of what you’d miss out on.”
Again, Lance fiddles with the note, “Yeah,” He agrees, “Yeah, you’re right.”
It’s nearly midnight and Lance can’t sleep. The rest of the Paladins and Curtis had gradually nodded off during the Altean movie they’d watched, but sleep remained stubbornly elusive to Lance.
Detangling himself from the blankets, Lance steps carefully around the sleeping bodies littering the floor. He knows why he can’t sleep. Keith isn’t here yet, and he’s a little bit worried. Keith still might not know that Lance is coming to Altea, so he doesn’t want to message him and ruin the surprise. But what if something happens and Keith can’t come? The note is almost burning a hole in Lance’s pocket and he desperately wants to give it to the intended recipient. He had spent hours working on the right way to spill his guts to Keith, and he’s actually really proud of how it turned out.
Lance decides that some cool air would be beneficial, so he quietly eases the front door open and steps outside. Nighttime on New Altea is beautiful. The sky is filled to the brim with stars, and the galaxy opens up before him. Big and wide and beautiful. Sometimes he still feels the yearning to be one with the stars. But these days it’s considerably lessened. He wouldn’t mind travelling the universe again if a certain Mullet invited him.
Allura’s statue isn’t far, so Lance makes the short journey there. He likes the statue well enough, but it’s almost intimidatingly large. It looms over him as he takes a seat at the base. He still misses her, but it’s no longer the all encompassing grief that had taken over after her death. He has realized that maybe his love for her didn’t go as deep as he had initially thought. He did love her, of that he was certain, but he has come to realize that there are different types of love. His love for Allura had felt soft and tender, almost like it was fragile and the slightest thing could shatter it. He had always felt like he needed to be better for her, be stronger for her. And there was an unfair amount of pressure placed on their relationship. He desperately wanted to be strong for her during the last part of the war. Allura had been everything he had expected from a first love.
But he had come to realize that there are different kinds of love.
There’s love that is messy. That is full of arguments and tears and heartbreak, but it’s also somehow impossibly strong. There’s love that overwhelms to the point where he can’t breathe, can’t think because he’s so consumed by it. It’s a terrifying kind of love, one that is all encompassing, one that burns through every part of him. It’s letting someone love him for everything that he is. Letting someone see him at his lowest moments and trusting that person to be there through them.
He pulls out the little note. Yes, he had thought a lot about love lately.