Work Text:
“Where’s Lance?” Keith heard Hunk whisper behind his back to Pidge. Even though he knew Hunk was worried, Keith didn’t turn back. For some reason, despite knowing where Lance was, and despite the fact that Hunk was literally way more equipped to handle Lance, Keith chose not to tell Hunk anything.
Instead, he pulled his helmet off his head and shoved it under his arm.
Inhale. Exhale.
The black paladin left the lions’ hangar, head held high, retreating into the quieter lights of the castle hallway. As he walked, his footsteps echoed, the empty hum of the castle louder than it’d ever been before. Keith knew, though, that today was different, that the battle they’d just finished was a defining moment Lance wouldn’t ever forget.
Maybe he prevented Hunk from knowing Lance’s location because he knew these situations better than Hunk. Every member of Team Voltron had made sacrifices before, but few one quite like this, so personal and close. Keith had, though; he’d suffered through loss after loss and been the cause of suffering. Hunk, soft and warm as a teddy bear, wasn’t exactly the right messenger for what needed to be said.
Keith slowed in front of a door. He pressed the button to slide it open and stepped into the room. Awkwardly, he pushed his bangs up on his forehead, looking into the room that Coran had engineered for Kaltenecker.
Designed just like an Earth meadow, the room looked almost expansive, with grass and flowers dotting the ground in a plush carpet. Outside the room, it was metallic, gray, and icy, a relic from a past that the humans on the Castle-ship often felt disconnected from. Inside the meadow, though, the starry blanket followed the light-rhythms of the ship, and were currently mimicking a North American view of the stars.
Offhandedly, Keith picked out Pegasus and Ursa Major, before his eyes finally came to rest on Lance’s form.
Only Coran and Keith knew where Lance came when he wanted to be alone. Coran, because Lance had entrusted him with the information. Keith, because he’d accidentally walked in on Lance at 0100 hours, when Keith (who was known to be lactose intolerant) tried to sneak past Hunk’s defenses to get milk for a milkshake.
Desperate times, in his defense.
Now, though, Lance was much less responsive to Keith entering. He lay flat on his back in the meadow, hands pillowed behind his head as he stared up at the starry expanse. As if he was underwater, the blue hues danced across his skin, hiding his expression from view. He was as still as stone.
Keith walked in. Careful not to disturb Lance, Keith laid down next to him, staring the same way Lance was. They were less than a foot apart. Keith could see the rise and fall of Lance’s chest through his armor, which he hadn’t even bothered to take off. It wasn’t comfortable– Keith hadn’t bothered either– but Lance didn’t seem to notice.
Almost uncomfortably, the black paladin noted the scratches that marred the blue-and-white exterior of Lance’s armor. Sometimes, when they weren’t training or in battle, Lance would spend his free time polishing up the protective gear in order to look his best for any “potential parades thrown in his honor.” The fact that he didn’t seem to notice the rust-colored splotches and sharp gashes in the shell of it was concerning.
So as not to ruin the moment, Keith turned his head slightly to see Lance. Now that he was close, it was easier to see the frozen, disbelieving look on his face. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, eyebrows downturned as if confused, Keith almost felt guilty for staring. It was an awful thing to think, in a moment as tragic as this– how beautiful he looked, how suited he was for nighttime, how Earth’s long-distant hues bent for him in a way like no other.
Keith didn’t let himself look away. He moved his hand closer, a defiance against his own inner voice.
This time, Lance turned to look at Keith, finally acknowledging him. His mouth opened more, as if to speak, but nothing came out. Still, when his eyes met Keith’s own, something passed between them. An understanding. A pain.
It had happened earlier, too. During the battle.
They’d been on the ground, outside their lions. The cityscape was too dense for Red and Black, so Keith and Lance had chosen to face the Galra guns-blazing. The civilians had long since evacuated.
When they fought, it was incredible. Like a symphony or a playful ballet, the two paladins darted back and forth, crossing and uncrossing paths, working in tandem to take down the Galra.
A Galra bot snuck up on Lance’s back, and Keith stabbed its circuitry clean through. Keith would favor his right, so Lance took care of his left. The trust that they had between them was almost tangible, a thick rope binding their hearts to beat in time.
Keith had even started to smile, sweat dripping into his eyes, muscles burning hotter than Red. Battles weren’t fun, but Lance was graceful, and it was difficult to avoid admiring him as they did their synchronous dance. The red paladin would constantly sling out casually witty statements, catching Keith off guard and making him laugh. Other moments, he would get serious, lowering into a stance that… well, did things. No matter what, though, it was obvious Lance was in his element.
Shit. Keith found that attractive.
In the end, it may have been partially Keith’s fault for not noticing. He was too enraptured and distracted, and the civilians were supposed to be evacuated.
“Gah!” a high-pitched squeak broke through the chaos. All the tension and pressure Keith and Lance built up snapped . They both paused. They looked over.
In his purple and black gloves, a Galra soldier held an alien child, a native to the planet they’d been trying to liberate. A civilian child.
Keith wasn’t sure he remembered this part correctly, but he could’ve sworn he heard Lance whisper, “ no. ”
Sound stopped. Vibrant red and blue simmered lower. The soldier made them drop their weapons. Keith hesitated, but Lance tossed his rifle away with a metallic clang. It was the only thing that Keith could hear besides the roar of blood in his ears.
Then, the unthinkable.
He killed the child anyway.
Keith knew the world was cruel. He, of all people, knew that true Evil would not spare children and did not favor innocence. Death, destruction, injustice, it all applied to everyone the same, no matter how young.
When Lance saw the gun move, he launched forward in response, but they were both too slow. One foot raised in the air, the other still pushing off the ground, the paladins watched a young girl’s life sap away in an instant. Keith will never, ever, forget that moment, when Lance turned to him, shoulders tight.
Lance looked straight through the black paladin, seeing nothing.
Then, with rigid movements, precise and detached, he picked up his rifle.
That time, the Galra soldier was too slow.
They didn’t tell the rest of the team what happened when they got back. Lance disappeared, but Keith waited for him to settle, and they’d both ended up back in the same place.
Looking at each other.
Remembering, picturing something that few others could put words to, but still not trying. A horror unlike any other. A horror Lance, who had a big family, who had younger sisters, had only experienced for the first time today. Their eyes stayed locked on each other.
Finally, as if releasing a breath he’d been holding as punishment, Lance’s eyes welled up with tears. Unable to take the pressure anymore, Lance let out a sob. Then another.
He shoved the heels of his palms up to his eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears from dripping into the grass, heaves shaking his body. Keith watched for only a moment, but the image was like a knife to his gut, twisting and knotting him up.
Keith reached up, pulling Lance’s hands down and holding them in his own, letting the tears fall. They fell in drops into the soil.
On second thought, maybe this was why Keith hadn’t told Hunk. He was selfish, wanting to be the one to hold Lance, to be the one to see him so still and then so vulnerable. He was a selfish, broken misfit, and he wanted to be the one to make sure Lance didn’t feel the same way he did. Keith Kogane wasn’t good at emotions, but he wanted to be good with Lance’s.
Lance’s sobs didn’t seem like they would stop soon. Each one shook his whole body, moved his shoulders, twisted his lips. His hands were trembling in Keith’s even though it wasn’t cold in the meadow room.
The rest of the night, Keith offered up his hands, his company, and everything else he could give. He let Lance grieve, silently joined him, and awaited the sunshine like a purification.
