Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It happened slowly.

So slowly, in fact, that not even Lance himself noticed. Not until it was too late.

It had started with the loneliness. Lance would try and hang out with Hunk and Pidge, or speak with Allura and Shiro only to be made fun of or ignored. He’d even tried to help Coran with chores but the Altean would thank him for taking over so that he could go fix some of the castleships machinery, which hadn’t been Lance’s intention, but he wasn’t about to say no.

At one point he’d gotten so desperate for company that he’d gone to Keith to ask him to spar. 

Keith had all but laughed in his face.

Lance didn’t seek people out as much after that. 

He would eat his meals at an empty table. He would curl up in bed and try his absolute best to keep his crying quiet, because what kind of paladin would he be if he couldn’t take a little loneliness?

And then everything got somehow worse because Shiro vanished. The team fell apart and try as Lance might, fixing things was something he just could not do. It was why Shiro was the leader. But now he wasn’t and there was nothing Lance could do.

So he helped in the ways he could. He would take food into the lab and bug Pidge and Hunk until they looked up to shut him up. They’d notice then how hungry they were and they’d eat the food he’d brought as he quietly slipped out. He would go to the bridge with a blanket late at night and drape it over Allura’s tired form slumped in one of the control seats. He would amble on down to the training deck with a disgruntled look and glare at Keith until he paused between rounds to ask what the hell Lance wanted.

“You’re so loud.” He’d complain.

“So?” Keith would down a water pouch or two in the short time with which he intended to chase Lance back out.

“You woke me up.” Lance would stroll into the room then, sit down and stare up at Keith with what he hoped was an innocent expression. “I won’t be able to fight as well without all my beauty sleep you know?”

“Are you fucking-”

“Maybe I’ll just train since I’m up anyways,” Lance would stretch out his legs and start stretching. “Hope you don’t mind sharing the room.” He would watch the anger fill Keith’s face before he would growl and storm off. Lance knew from enough of these exchanges that he could find Keith passed out like clockwork either in his room or the lounge in around thirty dobashes.

His exchanges with Keith accomplished two things. It would make the new Black
Paladin actually sleep, and it would free up the training deck so that he could use it, because everyone and their mother knew Lance was the weak link, the one that dragged them down, the one that caused the most problems.

So he would train. He would set the levels to simulate battles he’d been in. He’d model the training room like a Galra ship and set the number of bots to higher numbers then he thought he could handle. He would train with handicaps, a blindfold here, a limp arm here, because who knew what he would encounter in battle. He practiced his shooting, because if he couldn’t get at least ninety- five percent accuracy then would he even be better than someone else? He practiced hand to hand because with their leader down, they were down a close range fighter and he needed to fill that space to be worth anything. He practiced with all the weapons the training room had to offer so that if he lost his bayard during a fight then he wouldn’t be dead weight for someone else to pick up the slack for.

When there was a battle he knew he had been the one to screw up, he would practically fly down to the training room and recreate the set up and go over everything he could have done better so that then next time they encountered a situation like that, he could do better.

Every day that’s how the routine went. And every day it got easier. Don’t sleep in because there are chores that need doing. Don’t flirt because that will distract Allura. Don’t tell jokes because that will set Keith off and if he’s annoyed at Lance, then the outcomes of battle will be worse. Take food to Pidge and Hunk. Get tea and a blanket for Allura. Chase Keith from the training room. And every day the others got used to it. He no longer had to talk before Pidge and Hunk would accept the food. Allura knew it was time for a break when Lance would enter the bridge. Keith would shut simulations down as soon as he heard the swish of the doors and glare at Lance on his way out.

Eventually Lance found it had been a week since he’d uttered a word. It hit him one day in the showers and his knees had given out. He didn’t know who he was or what his purpose was because this wasn’t him.

When he’d left the showers, his eyes hurt and his throat was raw.

An improvement that made Lance just a little proud was how much better he seemed to be getting at training. He almost never missed a shot anymore. He would fight off at least ten bots with any given weapon in the training room’s inventory.

He continued the pattern and everything settled. The team wasn’t okay, but they were no longer falling apart. Everything finally fell into place.

And then Shiro came back.

Lance felt the seams holding himself together start to tear. Everything got rearranged. He no longer needed to take Pidge and Hunk food, because they would have mandatory team meals. He didn’t need to get Allura to rest because she was so much more relaxed already. He didn’t need to chase Keith out because Shiro would train with him and call things off at a decent time.

Lance of course, still trained, but there wasn’t much that he really did outside of that. Shiro also seemed more distant than when he’d last been with them. He snapped at Lance more, and maybe it was just Lance being pathetic, but it really hurt when all his ideas and opinions got shut down. It also helped him realise an important fact.

They didn’t need Lance anymore.

He had just accepted this fact when Keith left. Maybe the talk Lance had tried to have had put this idea into his head, or maybe Keith was just that much more necessary for the universe's survival. Lance was put as his place holder and he felt it.

He’d tried a few times to fall back into his old habits, but he’d only been ridiculed.

So he shut up and did as he was told. He trained and ate and slept and ignored the pain clawing up his throat whenever he allowed himself a moment to breathe, to think, to be anything other than Keith’s replacement.

When he unlocked a sword form on his bayard he’d broken down right there on the training deck. He knew everyone wanted him to be Keith but to have the forces of Voltron itself tell him that through his fucking bayard hurt him in a way he didn’t know what to do about. So he cried.

When Shiro yelled at Lance during a high stress meeting before a battle, it snapped something in Lance. He felt the resounding pain of something in him breaking, and then nothing. It was suddenly so much easier to hold back tears. It was so much easier to hold in the homesickness. It was so much easier to obey exactly what Shiro or Allura told him to do because there was nothing in him fighting back.

Lance felt as if he’d finally properly filled Keith’s spot as the Red Paladin. He finally knew his place and could finally stop disappointing everyone.

And then like the universe could feel him getting content, everything went to shit.

Keith came back with information that Shiro was not, in fact, Shiro. He told Lance about it the moment he had a moment away from Shiro and Lance had agreed to help him. They cornered him one evening in the training room and Shiro attacked. His eyes turned to a Galra purple and he struck at Keith and Lance like he didn’t know who they were. Lance fought back just as viciously, but still careful enough not to kill the guy, because Keith would break if Shiro died. It was one of the hardest fights of Lance’s life, but they managed to knock him out and call the team down. 

Allura pulled Shiro’s consciousness from the Black Lion and Shiro was finally back.

But with Keith and Shiro back, Lance no longer knew what he was supposed to do. 

This problem itself wouldn’t be so hard to solve, he had done it so many times already.

But something else was wrong. Something that set every one of Lance’s nerves alight. Something that made it nearly impossible to sleep.

The team didn’t seem to know what to do with him either.

Chapter Text

Hunk can’t sleep. It’s why he’s in the kitchen. And he can’t sleep because a week ago he’d found Lance sleeping on the couch. He’d felt a fond smile creep over his face as he laid a blanket over his friend’s curled form and ran a hand through his hair.

But then he noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Actually, looking closer he also realized that Lance didn’t look quite as peaceful as he usually did when he fell asleep. Hunk would know given all the times he had passed out against Hunk. Lance actually looked really tense, especially for a sleeping person.

And really, when was the last time he’d caught up with Lance? He couldn’t even remember hearing him talk in the last… How long had it been since he’d last heard his best friend talk?

Now that Hunk thought about it, he hadn’t seen much of Lance lately. He couldn’t remember the last time Lance had come to bother him and Pidge while they were working. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Lance outside of team training and the meal they absolutely had to go to in the evening.

But worst of all, Hunk couldn’t remember the last time Lance had smiled. Whenever they were doing the team training, Lance compiled without complaint. He didn’t make any snarky comments at Keith. He didn’t brag about how perfect his aim was, even though Lance had improved leagues since Hunk had last bothered to pay attention. He didn’t even try convincing Shiro to let him off training for the day, a conversation that had happened so often in the beginning that it was almost scripted.

Instead, Lance would just nod in affirmation at the instructions he was given, and carry them out without a word. 

And Hunk knew it was probably a little bit his fault because Lance was his best friend and he’d promised Lance’s mother he would watch out for him when they’d left to the Garrison together and he couldn’t imagine how Lance’s mother would react when she received a shell of her son because his best friend couldn’t even give him the time of day and would just ignore him until  he got to the point that Lance was probably barely sleeping if his appearances meant anything and-

Hunk took a deep breath and set the bowl he was mixing down.

Now was not the time to be spiraling. He needed to finish the food he was making so that tomorrow when Lance came in to have breakfast (If he actually ate anything besides the evening meal) he would get to have a taste of home.

Taking another deep breath, one filled with determination, Hunk looked up and almost screamed as he saw the very person he’d just been thinking about silently grabbing a water packet from a cabinet.

“Lance!” Hunk called out to him with a smile that wavered as he watched his friend whip his head around like he wasn’t used to being noticed.

“What are you doing up so late?” Hunk felt nervous, like he was talking to a stranger and trying not to say anything wrong.

“Training.” Lance’s voice was quiet and sounded a bit rusty.

Hunk glanced at the clock displayed above the kitchen doorway. “At midnight?”

Lance only shrugged as he stuck a straw into the water packet. Hunk felt an awful feeling bubbling up in his chest. This was not the boy he’d grown up next to and Hunk could feel his face start to sting in warning of the crying that was about to happen.

“Help me?” He blurted out in a desperate attempt to stop the waterworks.

Lance cocked his head and furrowed his brows in confusion.

“With cooking,” Hunk clarified, gesturing to the bowl with one hand while the other ran through his hair. “I’m trying to make empanadas.” Hunk peaked up at Lance, hoping that the familiar food would invoke a reaction in the boy.

“Okay,” was Lance’s only reply as he tossed the empty water packet in the trash chute and went to stand by Hunk, who had to fight not to let his shoulders slump.

Hunk knew Lance knew how to make empanada’s. Whenever Lance was feeling particularly homesick at the Garrison, Hunk would drag him into the kitchen area of the dorms and get him to help him make the dish that he used to make with his family every fourth Sunday of the month. It became a tradition for Hunk and Lance to do it on the same day, knowing that across the world in Cuba, Lance’s family was participating in the same activity. It made it a little easier for Lance.

Hunk felt anxiety bubble up inside him as silence settled between them. He couldn’t stand this tension.

-

“Keith totally tripped the other day.” Lance glanced over at Hunk as he was stirring the spices into a mystery alien meat. Hunk continued without looking back at Lance. “He was walking up the stairs in the entrance hall with Shiro and he totally tripped on the top step and face planted.”

Lance could hear the tension in Hunk’s voice as he talked.

“He laid there for like a whole minute as Shiro laughed. And dude when I tell you Shiro’s face was cherry red with how hard he was laughing. It was so funny.”

Lance gave a hum. He really didn’t understand what was up with Hunk. Lance hadn’t been any more homesick lately then he always was so he wasn’t sure why Hunk was making empanadas but he wasn’t gonna argue. He really did miss eating food other than the goo.

“Allura also totally gossips with the mice,” Hunk was dividing the dough into small portions. “I don’t know if you knew this but she totally gets them to spy on us and tell her all our secrets. It’s crazy.”

The long stretches of science between each comment was horribly awkward. Lance was starting to feel second hand nerves because of the amount of stress radiating off of Hunk. It made him uncomfortable.

“Also Coran totally has the slipperies again,” Hunk slipped the tray into the oven. He and Lance had perfected the portions while in the Garrison so that they had just enough for the two of them. “He’s not willing to admit it but he was basically frictionless when he was trying to help Pidge and I figure out the heating system in the castle.”

Hunk turned and began frantically scrubbing at the dishes they’d made and Lance dutifully stood by him and dried them off when Hunk passed them to him. It was a routine that they’d perfected. One once familiar to Lance, but now just as foreign as actually spending time with Hunk.

Normally when Hunk was stress baking Lance would talk him through it and talk him down, but Lance didn’t know if they were close enough any more for him to do that. But what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t try?

“Are you okay?” 

The question made Hunk pause. He turned to Lance with an expression that made him shrink back on himself. Hunk took a breath as his eyes flitted throughout the room as if looking for an answer literally anywhere as he turned off the water and turned to face Lance fully.

“You’re asking me that?” Hunk’s voice sounded breathy like his throat was closing up.

Lance nodded carefully, feeling as if he’d done something very wrong.

Hunk suddenly had tears spilling down his face and Lance was crushed in a tight embrace.

“Lance, how can you ask me that right now?” Hunk’s voice was wet and Lance was tense knowing he’d messed something up.

“I’m sorry?”

He was suddenly thrust back out of the embrace, the whiplash of emotions somewhat messing with his head. Hunk stared at him, incredulous.

“Are you being serious?” Lance was so horribly confused at what was going on. “You’re not sleeping well, training at midnight, and you ask me if I’m alright?”

Lance studied Hunk’s face as if it would tell him what was going on. “Yes?”

Hunk let out a breath of absolute disbelief and let go of Lance to step back and observe him.

“How are you actually real?”

The timer on the oven beeped, saving Lance from having to come up with an answer. Hunk pulled out the tray and set it on the stove to cool off. Lance stood by the sink, hands hanging at his side as he tried to sort through what was happening. He used to know Hunk better than he knew himself. That was how they worked with each other. They knew how to pull each other out of spiraling and how each of them dealt with grief. But somehow, Lance didn’t feel like he knew the boy across from him at all. 

Hunk passed an empanada to Lance when they were cooled off and took one for himself. They ate in silence and Hunk watched Lance with a look that made his skin crawl.

As soon as Lance finished his food he quietly thanked Hunk for the food and slipped out of the room, fearing he’d only make things worse if he stayed around any longer. He could hear Hunk start to cry after only a few seconds of waiting outside and Lance clenched his jaw, feeling guilt well up inside of him because he’d been the one to cause the hollow sobs that fell from his friend’s lips.

He peeked into the room one last time before heading back to the training room to see Hunk hugging himself, head bowed with a tray of eight empanadas sitting in front of him, untouched. 

Lance walked away before the sight could cause him any more confusing emotions.

Chapter Text

Pidge wanted to tear their hair out. They couldn’t focus on the corruption code they were trying to make for the Blade. This normally wasn’t a problem. In fact normally they had the opposite problem. Getting so drawn into a project that they forgot to do things that are necessary for a human to live and only getting distracted by Lance who would come in with his motormouth and annoying yet endearing comments. Ironic because the reason they couldn't focus was Lance. Lance who hadn’t come in to bug them in who knows how long.

Pidge brought their legs up to their chest at the pang of loneliness that raced through them. Though they would never admit it out loud, they would give anything for Lance to make a stupid, purposefully inaccurate joke just to get a rise out of Pidge.

Pidge had been watching Lance in meetings ever since they had accidentally ran into an inconsolable Hunk at three AM while trying to get a drink. He stood in the perfect stance that the Garrison had drilled into their muscle memory in the first few months. A military stance. He seemed to have perfect control over his emotions so as not to let any leak onto his face. At the end of meetings, he replied ‘Yes, Sir’ to Shiro when he asked if everyone got it. Pidge had watched Shiro jaw slacken in shock as Lance practically marched off the bridge.

It was all really unsettling.

Pidge’s eyes drifted to a piece of scrap metal that mildly resembled a type of fidget toy that she’d seen back on earth. It was covered in a light layer of dust, a testament to the time in which Lance hadn’t been down to the lab to provide Pidge with a comfortable white noise from his rambling. They felt tears prick their eyes as it reminded them of how much they’d neglected their friend.

A sudden idea had Pidge lifting their head and blinking back the tears before they could well up and spill.

They knew it was a long shot to get any signals from earth but with the Altean tech that they now had access to, it could be possible.

They quickly snatched a speaker and some scanners as well as a broadcasting device and raced to the bridge to find Coran.

The doors slid open to reveal the Princess and Coran to a breathless Pidge. They turned to look at the Green Paladin as they looked to Coran.

“Do you think we can build a scanner that would pick up signals from earth?” They really shouldn’t get their hopes up because in all the years that earth had studied space, they had never reached any other living things. But Alteans had.

“Oh it would be quite simple, Number Five.” Coran twirled his moustache. “Earth’s broadcasting signals are quite crude. I’ve been picking up quite a few signals just in the past phoebe.”

“What?” Pidge almost threw all their things to the floor. If they had access to Earth’s signals already, why hadn’t they contacted earth yet? Their dad was down there. “You didn’t tell us?”

“Oh I didn’t think it was important.” Coran at least had the decency to look a little sheepish. “You see, while they broadcast their radio waves particularly far and with a rather primitive system, they haven’t been able to establish a communication system that reaches quite as far. And unfortunately their tech is not compatible with ours. All I can offer you is some rather strange music.”

Pidge tried not to wilt in frustration, but based on how Coran’s expression fell a little, they didn’t succeed. But at least her first reason for coming down here wasn’t a bust.

“Can I hear the music?” Pidge sat down and started piecing together a strange mix between an mp3 player and a radio.

“Why of course.” Coran turned to his station and clicked a few buttons. Pidge almost screeched as Unwritten blared around the bridge at a volume that was a little too loud.

Coran winced and pressed a few more buttons and the volume turned down to something more bearable.

“Coran,” Pidge tossed the Altean equivalent of a USB at him, which he caught with minor fumbling. “Can you download the files onto that?”

The Altean dutifully inserted the chip into his console. Pidge had him go through all the radio options and download everything that they thought Lance would hold the remotest interest in.

-

Pidge wasn’t able to perfect the final touches on the music player the first night they worked on it. And They couldn't get through all the music Coran had picked up that fast either. But they couldn't stand waiting to give something to Lance. So they spent a day building different fidget toys.

When they had a couple done, they checked the ship’s scanners to see where Lance was. Training room. That gave Pidge a pause. Had Lance been training more? Since when?

With more burning questions and a subconscious guilt at not knowing these things about Lance, Pidge marched towards the training room.

When they got there, they found Lance drinking some water near the door. He was watching her, likely having heard the door open.

Pidge, who had never been good with words, walked up to him and thrust the trinkets at him. He looked at them confused and set his water down to cup his hands under their hands. They dumped them into his hands and crossed their arms.

“You stopped coming down to the lab.” Lance nodded at the statement. “You left your little trinket down there. I figured you missed it.”

Pidge watched some emotion flash through his eyes and an almost resigned expression set into his face.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

Pidge immediately knew they’d done something wrong. They felt a tightening in their chest as they tried to think through reasons. 

“It’s cause I miss you.” Pidge looked to the side, not wanting to look at the face of a friend they’d let down. “It’s too quiet.”

With that, they turned on their heels and left.

-

A week later, Lance heard the training room doors swish open mid simulation. He quickly called for the simulation to end and turned, panting, to the door to find Pidge standing there, holding a strange object in their hands and a calculating look in their eyes.

He felt guilt and fear sweep through  him, remembering last time this had happened and the confusion he’d been left with.

Pidge marched up to him and thrust the object into his chest. He barely caught it and looked down to examine it.

“I made this for you.” Lance looked back up at Pidge. They were glaring slightly. Lance didn’t have the slightest idea of what to say or how to react so he just stared at
Pidge, expression blank.

Pidge’s eyes flickered back and forth between his before they looked at the object, which kind of resembled an earth portable stereo, and pressed a button.

A very recognizable tune started playing from the speakers. Lance used to play it in the kitchen when making dinner and laughing with his mama and siblings as they took turns dancing with each other.

For the first time in months, Lance had to fight back tears at the familiar tune, despite the energetic salsa beat.

Pidge clicked another button and the song switched to another song Lance knew by heart. One he used to sing in the shower rooms at one in the morning at the Garrison when he couldn’t sleep and everyone had gone to the sleeping quarters on the other side of the building. A heartbroken song that related a little too closely to his fears of failing his family.

The song switched again to a song with an upbeat tune with less happy lyrics.

Lance took a breath to stop the tears from overflowing because no one wanted to deal with a homesick teen in the middle of a war. They didn’t have time. And he knew Pidge hated seeing people cry.

“It’s like an earth radio but all the some are pre downloaded so that you can play it whenever.” Pidge informed him, slightly rushing through the speech.

He knew he needed to say something so he steeled himself and looked at them in the eyes when he’d finally forced down the lump in his throat.

“Thank you.” His voice barely wavered, a skill he’d perfected in meetings for months.

But that did not have the desired effect  on Pidge that he wanted. Their eyes filled with tears and their face scrunched up. Lance felt panic surge through him but before he could do anything, Pidge turned and ran.

Lance was left with a pop tune playing from the speakers and confusion welling in his stomach. 

A week ago when Pidge had given him a bunch of trinkets, he’d thought it was a reward for not bugging the Green Paladin anymore. But then they’d said they missed him and that it was too quiet. Lance thought, they’d wanted it to be quiet. But what Pidge had said meant the opposite. He’d put the trinkets in a drawer in his desk, unsure what to do or how to feel about them.

Now they brought him a connection to earth with songs that made him want to cry but didn’t want him to thank them.

Lance sank to the floor and put his face in his hands as he tried to sort through the emotions that were bubbling up under his lungs to make it all make sense.

The song switched to another high energy tune that was the opposite of the emotions Lance felt as he sat in on the floor of the training room and tried to figure out why he kept disappointing his team no matter how hard he tried.

Chapter Text

Allura finished drying off the mice with a flourish,

“Now you’re all clean and fluffy!” She smiled at them as they chittered happily. Her smile fell a bit as she realised there was nothing else she could think of doing to relax.

Coran had almost locked her in her room because she refused to put down the information she was going over for their next big mission with the coalition. But although she really didn’t want to leave a moment free when she could be working to take down the Galra, she understood that it was important to take breaks sometimes.

“What else am I supposed to do?” She asked the mice.

Plachu ruffled the fur on his head and smirked at the princess.

“Of course! Lance is a master of relaxing. He’ll know exactly what to do!” Allura spun around as the mice jumped to her shoulder and practically skipped out of her room towards the paladin’s quarters. She used to spend many nights in Lance’s room, exchanging gossip and snacking on whatever interesting foods they’d found at the last swap moon stop. Unfortunately, the habit had died off when Shiro disappeared and it had been forever since she had spent time with Lance.

When Allura reached the bedroom hall, she quickly located Lance’s door and knocked. There was only silence on the other side.

“Lance?” Maybe he was listening to music. Alurra entered the code that she had seen him use many times when having a “girls night” as he’d dubbed it. 

When the door slid open, Allura almost thought she had the wrong room. The trinkets that used to fill every available space were nowhere to be seen, as well as the collection of quilts and blankets that had always been piled on Lance’s bed. Lance was also absent.

Alurra turned and left confused. Lance treasured the souvenirs he got from the many planets they stopped at and he quite often spoke of how he couldn’t sleep without all his blankets piled on top of him. 

Allura shook her head to clear those thoughts and tried to think of where else the boy would be. If Lance wasn’t in his room, perhaps he was in the lounge.

“You know it really has been a while since I’ve spoken with Lance,” She mused to the mice. The mice chittered back. 

“No, I suppose we’ve all been quite busy.”

The lounge was empty as well. Allura didn’t know where else to look. She had never had a problem finding Lance in the past, he was always in one of these places or with another person.

“Maybe Hunk will know.”

Hunk was baking in the kitchen and for once it didn’t seem to be going well.

“Hunk,” the man in question startled at the sound of his name and almost dropped the knife in his hand. “Do you know where Lance is?”

Hunk’s shoulders hiked up near his ears. “No? Is he not in his room?” He sounded strangled.

“Are you alright?” Allura stepped a bit closer. She had never seen Hunk like this before, though she did know that Lance was not a stranger to helping his friend through his stuff.

“I’m fine, of course I'm fine. Why would I not be okay?” Hunk looked like he was about to cry.

“Of course,” Allura echoed, feeling mildly uncomfortable. “I’m going to leave now.”

She turned around and walked quickly out of the room. She didn’t know what was causing Hunk to act like that, but maybe she could talk to Lance about it, when she found him. He always knew how to cheer people up.

As she was passing the training room, she heard someone in there. Perhaps Keith. And she knew it was a long shot but she was already here so she might as well ask if Keith knew where Lance was.

The door swished open and Allura stepped in. Instead of Keith there, it was Lance. He looked like he had just called off the training simulation, sweaty and panting heavily.

“Allura?” He asked, breathlessly.

“You’re just who I was looking for,” Allura stepped towards him, smiling. “I want to do a ‘girls night’ with you.”

Lance tilted his head, confused. “A girls night?”

“Yes! Coran said I had to relax and I know you are the best at relaxing.” Something in Lance’s gaze flashed before there were walls blocking it. “I also miss spending time with you.” She quickly amended. “ I have not seen you around much.”

“Of course.” Lance gave himself a moment to collect himself after whatever he’d been doing and walked towards the door. Allura happily followed, trying not to think about the emotion that had almost been akin to hurt in Lance’s eyes.

Back in Lance’s room, Allura shadowed him as he went into the bathroom to grab all the products. They were not on his counter like they used to be, but in the cupboard underneath. Allura was more than a little confused. He always had them splayed out on the counter in the order he used them in. Whenever he discovered a new product from one planet or another, he would excitedly tell Allura about it and what it was supposed to do.

She and Lance settled on the bed with all the products. Normally Lance would be rambling by now. Allura had never had to start the conversation before. 

“You know Hunk was acting really strange when I went to ask him where you were.” Lance’s hands stilled on the headband he was holding and Allura immediately felt as if she had said the worst thing possible.

“Oh?” His voice was so quiet. Allura felt there was something going on that she was not aware of.

“Are you alright, Lance?” She placed a hand on his knee and he looked down at the place of contact.

“I’m okay, Princess.” His quiet voice proved anything but. He lifted the headband to Allura and pinned back her hair. She watched him feeling lost. She hardly recognised the boy in front of her.

“You know it’s okay if you’re not feeling well?” Allura echoed something he had told her a while ago, trying to meet his eyes but he kept them resolutely on the products in his hands. 

“I know.” Lance lifted a hand to her face to smear on a face mask. His hands were gentle and before Allura knew it, there were tears streaming down her face.

-

Lance was startled to see Allura crying. He felt a spike of panic shoot through him. It was the second time in two days that he’d been a witness to one of the paladins crying. He was really starting to question what he was doing wrong, not that he wasn’t always wondering that.

“Allura, what’s wrong?” He quickly wiped his fingers off on a towel he’d brought over and grabbed her shoulders.

Allura’s watery eyes met his. “Lance, what happened?”

“What do you mean?” Lance’s skin was crawling. He hated all these weird interactions that he somehow kept having. It was unsettling. He wanted people to go back to letting him figure himself out. He’d thought he’d had it handled. He thought he knew what he was supposed to be doing yet at every turn, he always messed up.

“I miss your smile.” Allura’s face scrunched up and she hugged herself. “And you used to tell me about anything that came to your mind and I miss it. And Hunk is worried about you and you won’t tell me what's wrong and I want to help you”

Lance’s face fell. This was the opposite of how they wanted him to act in the beginning. THey’d all been exasperated when he would talk about what was on his mind. And he’d never once hurt Hunk like this but now it seemed like the only thing he could do properly anymore was hurt the people close to him. 

One thing he’d never managed to stop being though, was an older brother. He gathered
Allura in his arms and let her bury her face in his shoulder. He held her tight and tried not to think of his family back on earth. Tried not to think of the twin sister he’d left behind. Because if he did he wasn’t sure he would be able to fill the role they needed from a paladin.

Allura didn’t cry very loud but Lance could still feel her breaths shaking through her. He murmured apologies and rubbed her back. He used to tell funny stories to get people to cheer up but he didn’t want to think of funny stories from his childhood at the moment. So instead he just sat in a horrible silence and let Allura’s tears soak his shirt.

Allura looked up after a few minutes, tears still running down her cheeks.

“You know you can talk to me right?” Her eyes searched his face. 

Her gaze reminded him of when Lance’s mother would hug him when he was crying and whisper soothing nothings in his ear. The way she would make hot chocolate and stick around until she could get a laugh out of him.

It reminded him of when the things his classmates said to him would get to him and Veronica would find him and stare at him until he caved and told her what was wrong. Then she would work logically through what they said and tell him it was all a bunch of bull.

Lance felt fear and longing bubble though him. Lance did know this, but he also knew he couldn’t act on it. It was something people were supposed to say to each other so that they wouldn’t bottle up their emotions. He’d only ever seen it work when he was a kid.

Plus it wasn’t like the team had time to listen to him talk about homesickness and insecurity. Everyone had that. He wasn’t special and they didn’t have time in this intergalactic war to set aside for one guy’s feelings.

Lance searched Allura’s face as she watched him, waiting. He considered the consequences. Maybe it would help. Maybe it would ease the vice on his chest. Maybe it would make things easier.

“I-” Who was he kidding of course it was a bad idea. It could cause irreparable damage in the team and affect the way they formed Voltron. Maybe everyone else would hate him for questioning hw he was supposed to be acting. They would probably tell him to suck it up and tell him he was doing just fine.

“I’m okay, Princess.”

Lance watched disappointment fill Allura’s eyes before she looked down. He felt regret fill him. He was always saying the wrong thing.

“Alright, Lance,” Allura looked back at him, disappointment gone. “If you change your mind, you can always come to me.”

Lance stared, speechless. Allura picked up the cream and unscrewed the lid. He twitched slightly when she smeared some of the cream on his face.

“I hope you’ll talk to someone.” Allura handed the bottle to Lance.

They finished the rest of their old routine in silence. Lance felt regret pool in his stomach the entire time.

Chapter Text

Lance was not expecting to see ginger hair when he got to the training room after lunch. Yet there it was, right in front of him, causing Lance to start thinking of a million things he could do to get out of this situation.

Coran looked up and his face broke out in a smile.

“Number Three.” Lance blinked, startled. “I was just having Number Five help look some programming over.” 

Lance looked to the side and sure enough, there was Pidge. They looked up and Lance wished he hadn’t caught the flash of panic and sadness in their gaze before they waved with a tight smile. Lance lifted his hand in greeting as well, a little hesitant and slightly shaky.

“It shouldn’t take too long.” Coran clasped his hands behind his back. “Everything should be in tip top shape by the end of the quintant.” His bright voice felt jarring to Lance, who hadn’t heard much talk outside of mission briefings lately.

Lance looked back to Coran. He was unsure of what to do now. Coran was looking at him with a searching gaze that had his skin crawling. At the same time he felt disappointment in himself for feeling that way about one of his crewmates just simply looking at him. It was rather pathetic. What kind of paladin was he if he couldn’t let someone look at him.

He quickly tried to think of things to occupy his time with. If the training room was unavailable that meant he couldn’t spend his time there. Knowing he couldn’t make progress today set him on edge. He would have to do a workout in his room later so he didn’t fall behind. He could always occupy his time with the library-

“I was just about to go have some tea.” Lance’s thoughts screeched to a halt at Coran’s words. “Would you care to join me?”

It was something they’d used to do a lot. Sit down with some freshly brewed tea and talk about their respective homes. It was one of the small comforts he'd used to partake in back when the weight of the whole Paladin thing hadn’t set in. Back when he was still ignorant and carefree. Before he got serious and finally filled the role he was supposed to. 

He hadn’t done it in a while, kind of how he hadn’t hung around his team mates recently. And after seeing how Hunk, Pidge and Allura had been acting around him, he really didn’t want to make Coran think there was something wrong with him too because he really was a sad excuse for a paladin if all he could do was make his team sad. So he hunched his shoulders in a sort of shrug and murmured a soft, “Okay.”

Falling into step beside Coran was strange. It felt like walking through a house he used to live in, familiar but strange. Like he was misplaced. A feeling he’d been feeling a lot as of late.

Whenever they used to walk together, it would be filled with chatter and joy but Lance could only barely hold off the awkwardness he felt. Coran’s humming helped. It was a jolly tune and it made it so the walk wasn’t quite so crushingly silent. It still didn’t feel natural though.

They reached the kitchen and Lance sat at the counter as Coran fixed the tea. He tried hard not to curl up on himself, keeping his feet crossed and tucked on the bottom rung of the stool he was sitting on. Normally by now he would be rambling about anything and everything that crossed his mind but watching how Hunk had broken down and how Pidge had looked at him he was a little nervous of how Coran would treat him. He wanted to stop letting everyone down and get his shit together, even though no matter how hard he tried, he only seemed to make it worse. All of this was making him feel rather pathetic. If he couldn’t even get through a fucking tea party then what good was he as a-

“Tell me something.”

Lance’s eyes darted up to look at Coran, who was watching him with something that felt dangerous to Lance in his eyes. “What?” 

“Anything at all,” Coran was placing the tea in front of Lance and taking a seat beside him. “Perhaps a story.”

“What do you mean?” He felt unsettled. Coran was making a very strange request and Lance didn’t like that he didn’t know the motive. He grasped his mug with both hands hoping the warmth would ground him.

“The castle has been far too quiet as of late and I believe I’m not the only one who’s noticed.” Coran was looking at Lance as if he was searching his soul. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, fighting the urge to bring his knees to his chest as if it would protect him. This was not what he was expecting to be faced with. 

“I quite enjoyed the stories of your family back on earth.” Lance lowered his gaze. Anything but that. He didn’t want to talk about how his siblings would push each other under the water at the beach, or how it was always a race to the table so you could get your favorite seat. He didn’t want to talk about how at Veronica’s quinceañera, there had been a girl invasively flirting with Marco and how Rachel had intentionally spilled punch on her.

“I don’t think I can.” Lance whispered.

“You could tell me about something else.” Lance peeked at him through his hair. “Like what did you do today?”

Lance looked at Coran’s nose. It was easier than his eyes. “Training, then chores.”

“We miss you.” It was so out of the blue that Lance looked back at his eyes. Coran looked sad. Lance hated the way he felt like he couldn’t escape Coran’s gaze. He felt pinned like a bug, spread out and stared at. He scowled slightly.

“I’m right here.”

Lance watched something like mourning wash through Coran’s expression. “I know Lance, but that’s not what I mean.” Coran took his hands and oh god the warmth was so unexpected it almost made Lance jump. Coran’s hands were so much warmer than the tea mug and Lance struggled to listen to whatever Coran said next because of how the warmth stole all his focus. 

“I for one miss your smile.”

Lance blinked a few times before tearing his eyes away from Coran’s hands enveloping his and looked at Coran.

“You used to have his sparkle in your eye and a laugh that brightened the room and I’m sad that you’ve lost it.”

Lance let out a strangled sort of exhale. He was being too sincere, too open. Lance didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help staring into Coran’s eyes. The warmth and worry there suffocated him just like the warmth surrounding his hands. A pinpoint of feeling that his mind wouldn’t let go of. He felt out of depth and dizzy with the way all his senses seemed to give all their focus to Coran’s hands and he couldn’t get over how warm they were.

Lance inhaled shakily. “I don’t know what you want.” He whispered.

Coran squeezed his hands and smiled softly. “We want you back.”

He could not keep doing this. Everyone kept looking at him like they were expecting something from him and he didn’t know how to give it to them. They’d always wanted him to be quieter so they could focus, more serious so they could get the job done, more focused so he didn’t fuck up. But here Coran was asking him to be Lance. Not to be Keith anymore. Not to be quiet. It went against everything he’d ever trained into himself and everything he’d fought for internally and Lance didn’t know what to do anymore. He thought he’d been lost before but with every interaction lately it seemed to get worse and worse and he didn’t know what to do anymore and he wanted it all to stop and god , Coran’s hands were so warm. When was the last time he felt something like that? It’s been far to long. Hunk had hugged him the other day but it wasn’t as warm as the searing heat from the hands and it was sending shockwaves through everything and

“-eathe, Lad.”

It was too much. The warmth was choking him and the direct ask was too straightforward. He couldn’t dodge it or change the subject but he couldn’t focus enough to do much of anything really. He felt as if he was suffocating or falling. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat and all he could think about was the hands around his that were so, so warm and how he wanted more, more, more. He wanted to grab it tight and take more and never let it go. The desire scared him and the need felt like it was crawling up his throat threatening to drown him.

He did the only thing he could think of.

He wrenched his arms back from Coran, spilling the mug of tea in the process, and fled.

Chapter Text

Shiro knew that what the clone had done wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty of the effects it’d left. While it may not have been him doing the things it did, it had been his face that his teammates saw when it happened. 

And Shiro had noticed that one of the worst off was Lance.

He would straighten his  posture whenever Shiro got close. He would quietly slip out of a room when Shiro entered. He’d keep his head down at meals, eating his food quietly, then excusing himself as fast as possible.

But the thing that hit Shiro the most was how Lance would address him as ‘Sir’.

The first time Shiro had seen Lance after he’d been in the pod had been the team meal the next day. Shiro had said they’d start team training back up the following week. It had been received with a chorus of groans, Keith’s mumbled ‘finally’, and one startlingly clear, ‘yes, sir’.

Shiro had looked over at Lance to find him focused on his food. When he looked to the others for an answer they just avoided his eyes, save Keith, who was busy glaring at Lance.

This had been haunting Shiro all week and now, the first group training since he’d gotten back had been completed.

Another thing that had been happening was the memories that Shiro would gain from his time spent as the clone. He hadn’t been by any means civil to almost anyone but he could without a doubt say he’d treated Lance the worst. He would ridicule him for the smallest things and yell at him when he tried to voice any opinion. He’d been the red paladin and Shiro wouldn’t let him have that position. And now he had been back for a week and the only thing Lance had said to him directly was ‘Yes, Sir.” 

Shiro didn’t know how to fix it entirely but he knew how he could start.

“Good work today, team.” Shiro stood in front of the small semicircle they had formed on the training deck. “You’ve all improved a bunch since last time.” He looked at Lance, who was standing in a pose highly reminiscent of the one they’d taught at the Garrison, back straight, feet shoulder width apart and hands clasped at his back. “Lance,” the boy in question startled at the address. “Your hand to hand has improved a crazy amount. Keep it up!”

“Yes, Sir.” Came the quiet, clear response. Shiro wilted a little bit. He’d meant it as a compliment.

“Training’s dismissed.” Shiro watched the team shuffle out of the training deck before dropping his head. Maybe he shouldn’t structure training like the military. It clearly wasn’t having the right effect. He could do better.

-

Over the next few days Shiro would find every way possible to compliment Lance. During team training he would watch how he’d improved and comment on that. At dinner he would thank Lance for clearing his spot when he was done. During meetings he would ask Lance’s opinion.

By the third day, it almost felt like Lance was avoiding him more. He would hunch in on himself whenever Shiro said his name and would claim not to have ideas for missions. 

It confused Shiro just a bit. In the past Lance had always stated his opinion. He’d always reached for the limelight, wanting to be seen. Before Shiro had disappeared he’d always had ideas and ways to work around holes in a plan. 

The Lance now scared Shiro.

He knew he didn’t have all his memories from the clone, and he was almost afraid of what he would remember. Keith had told him about the fight that him and Lance had had against the clone but he was almost certain that they had glossed over some of the details. He felt guilty for being glad about it. Lance had looked down the entire meeting that day. 

Maybe he was coming at the compliments all wrong. He would keep working on it.

-

The mission was simple. They had to get the Galra off the planet Til’maur, a planet they’d had in custody for a few decaphoebs. They’d done a lot of rescue missions like this so Shiro hadn’t had to do much of a briefing.

Hunk was in his Lion, firing at the Galran structures from the sky. Pidge was making sure the civilians were safe, Keith and Shiro were fighting the sentries, and Lance was covering them.

A majority of the Galran on this planet were just the robotic sentries but a good deal was still live Galra. Shiro had spent a lot of energy fighting one of the commanders and was now a lot slower to react than he would’ve liked.

There was a thud behind him just as he was finishing off another sentry. Shiro whirled around to find the General in charge of this place in a heap at his feet, gunshot through the head. He silently thanked Lance and spun around to keep fighting, but there were no enemies left. They were either on the ground, dispatched or fleeing.

Shiro exchanged a look with Keith then activated his comms.

“Pidge, have you got all the planet’s residents?”

“Yeah. The Galra didn’t have many prisoners. They were mostly using the planet to grow food from what I can tell. I mean they obviously were using these guys to farm but not a lot in the ships or buildings.”

“Great. Regroup everyone and we’ll get Allura down here to talk to the leader.”

-

After the debrief, Shiro caught Lance’s arm. He flinched violently and his heart leapt to his throat. When he turned around he could see guilt in Shiro’s eyes and kept his gaze resolutely on his nose, not wanting to see the emotions in Shiro’s eyes.

“Lance, you did good out there today.”

Lance gently extracted his arm, hoping it wouldn’t make Shiro feel worse. He knew the things the clone had done weren’t Shiro’s fault but he also knew Shiro would still feel guilty.

“Why are you doing that?” He asked.

Shiro’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Doing what?”

“The compliments, Shiro.” 

“Because you do good.” He smiled slightly.

Lance hunched his shoulders slightly. “But you single me out.”

Shiro’s smile disappeared. “I’m sorry.”

Lance backtracked quickly. “No, it’s fine”

Shiro placed his hands gently on Lance’s shoulders and he felt guilt well up in his stomach when he immediately tensed.

“Lance, I’m sorry for what the clone did-”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Lance didn’t need Shiro feeling misplaced guilt because he couldn’t hold himself together after a little ridiculing and one fight.

“But the clone isn’t gonna apologize is he?” It was Lance’s turn to scrunch his eyebrows in confusion.

“No?”

“I know you saw my face when he did those things to you and I want my face to apologize to you for that. So I’m sorry and I hope you can forgive me.”

Lance wanted to run but he knew that wouldn’t go over well. 

“It’s not like you had control.” Lance looked at the floor. “It’s fine.”

Shiro huffed slightly. “It’s not fine if it’s affecting you. Lance, you can talk to us.”

Lance knew if he looked up, his resolve would break and he’d either cry or spill his guts. Or both. There wasn’t a good option.

“I’m fine, Shiro.” He was proud of the minimal wavering in his voice.

“Lance-”

“Please stop.” He whispered as he shrugged out of Shiro’s hold and backed away a few steps. “I’m fine.”

Lance walked off the bridge before any of the all too confusing emotions could drag him somewhere he didn’t want to go.

Chapter Text

It had taken a while for Keith to be able to pin Lance down at a reasonable hour. He was never with the team and it was almost like he avoided the lounge. At team meals he ate his food like it was a race and he would die if he lost. Keith also didn’t think confronting Lance in front of the team would go over very well, making the few times he did see the red paladin not really an option. So when Shiro had ended their training session way earlier than Keith used to, Keith told him to go on ahead without him. Shiro had looked a little unsure but Keith had assured him he wouldn’t stay too long. He had something he needed to do.

He bid Shiro a goodnight by the door and sat down to wait. 

He’d figured out Lance had been sparring late at night when he’d been unable to fall asleep. He’d heard a door open and close. He’d immediately assumed it was Lance because he was the only one he hadn’t seen at dinner time. He’d also guessed the training room because Keith had seen how much he’d improved during team training but there had only been one of those so far which had to mean he practiced on his own time. 

It could’ve been flawed logic. He knew he’d jumped to a lot of conclusions but he was getting a little desperate to talk to Lance or really confront him in any way and right now he was getting proved right.

The door swished open and Keith stood.

“What are you doing here?” Keith had seen shock in Lance’s eyes before he’d quickly veiled it.

“Spar with me.” Keith crossed his arms.

Lance’s brows furrowed. “You want to spar with me ?”

Keith frowned. “Yes.”

He supposed Lance had a right to be suspicious. Keith hadn’t exactly been one to spend time with anyone but Shiro before and after the clone. And he and Lance didn’t exactly have the best track record of getting along. He was planning on working to convince Lance to at least train with him at the late hour. Which is why Lance’s response caught him off guard.

“Fine.”

Keith’s eyes widened and he scanned Lance’s face quickly to see if there was any sort of trickery there. “Fine?”

Lance gave a short sigh and mumbled, “Before I change my mind.” as he brushed past Keith to get into the training room and Keith spun around to join him.

Keith hadn’t seen Lance train outside of the singular team training they’d had since Shiro was healed up enough to run one. But even then he could recognize that he had gotten loads better in the months Keith had been gone at the blade.

“Best two out of three,” Keith’s challenge made Lance pause in his stretches. “Winner gets the deck. Loser goes to bed.”

Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Fine.”

Keith nodded to himself and began warming up himself.

When they were satisfied, they stood and faced each other. Keith could feel an odd adrenaline pumping through him. One he hadn’t felt while training in a while.

Lance nodded. Keith returned the movement, and they sprang at each other.

Keith had missed how it felt to fight Lance. They’d trained together quite a bit when Shiro had gone missing. They’d learned each other's fighting styles and how they responded. It felt like more of a dance.

Keith quickly found out just how much better Lance really was when he threw a punch at Lance’s gut and found himself staring at the floor, head caught in a choke hold that had him quickly tapping out.

Lance let him go and he sat back appraising the boy in front of him. There was no hint of a smile on his face. Just the same blank look that had started to work it’s way into Keith’s waking dreams.

Keith frowned back. “You’ve gotten better.”

Lance’s expression twitched. “You think I sat on my ass the whole time you were gone?”

Indignation flared in his stomach. “That’s not what I said.” 

Lance huffed and got in a fighting stance for round two.

Lance may have gotten better, but so had Keith. He may not have gone into this knowing Lance’s fighting like he once had, but he wouldn’t let that shake him. Keith had had months to train with countless different opponents and two years to learn how to best his mom.

Keith mirrored Lance and they began again. Keith could feel anger pooling in his gut when he kept failing to track Lance’s form. It felt like oil sliding against him. Like something he couldn’t grasp. It kept shifting and changing right when Keith thought he had it down. 

The second round took a lot longer than the first one but Keith was still bested when he found himself with a knee pinned to his chest by Lance’s arms locked around him, not unlike a wrestling hold.

“I win.” Lance’s voice was a monotone.

Keith growled. “I want my third fight.”

Lance let him go and glared. “I already won. The deck is mine.”

Keith glared right back. “I said best out of three. I want my third fight.”

Lance actually rolled his eyes. Keith would have been overjoyed if he wasn’t so angry at the fact that that was a thing he felt happy about.

“I’m not fighting you again Keith.” 

“Yeah I’ve noticed.” Keith huffed and it made his bangs flutter in his eyes.

Lance’s glare turned sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Keith looked to the side in an angry imitation of dismissal. “Oh just that you don’t fight anyone recently. You don’t even have an opinion.”

“As if it mattered  when I did.”

“Oh so you just give up?” Keith clenched his fists in a failed attempt to reel in his anger.

“I didn’t give up,” Lance’s face was getting an angry blush. It almost made Keith sick to know that this was the most emotion he’d seen on the paladin’s face for a month. “I just became what everyone wanted me to be.”

Keith could’ve screamed. “That’s bullshit. You’re a shell of yourself. I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”

Lance’s glare was downright poisonous. “Maybe that’s because you left Keith.”

Keith was lunging at Lance before he knew it. He crashed into the taller boy and sent them both rolling before Keith pinned Lance under him.

“I left for you Lance!” He let a fist fall hard on Lance’s chest. “I left because you thought you didn’t have a place on this team and I wanted you to stay.” Another fist hit Lance’s chest. “I left because the team needed you more than they needed me.” Lance was weakly trying to block Keith. “The team needs you now Lance. Not a shell of you, not a copy of me. You.” Keith let his fists rest on Lance’s chest and they both heaved in breaths. “I didn’t want you to become me, I wanted you to become you.”

“Nobody wanted me, Keith” Lance looked close to tears. “I tried to be me and it didn’t work. My entire life I have been your shadow. Fighter pilot because you left. Red paladin cause you left. I even unlocked a fucking sword option for my bayard when you were gone.” Keith felt his eyes widen slightly at those news as Lance looked away. “No matter what I do I will always be a shadow of you.”

Keith felt his anger melt away. “Lance-”

The world flipped and Keith was suddenly staring up at Lance instead of down.

“Three out of three.” Lance’s face was a blank mask again. “Go to bed Keith.”

Lance’s weight lifted off of Keith and he scrambled after him. “But-”

“Just go Keith!” Lance’s scream made Keith flinch back. It was broken and pained and so not Lance that it scared Keith.

He left Lance alone on the floor of the deck and refused to let his frustration give way to tears.

-

Lance hadn’t wanted to admit to himself that he was glad Keith was there to spar him. Ever since Coran had held his hand, touch had consumed a large portion of Lance’s thoughts. When Keith had lunged at him and pinned him down, it had disoriented him. Keith’s blows had been weaker then, which was a saving grace cause Lance didn’t think he’d have been able to fight off stronger ones at that moment. 

And then Lance had to go and open his mouth and let out all his insecurities that he’d only ever told Hunk in his lowest moments at the Garrison.

Lance was frustrated that he’d let himself get so off put. He’d been doing so well at keeping his emotions in check and now for what? For him to go blabbing to Keith about all the reasons he was unfit? To ruin everything he’d worked to keep under wraps?

The past few weeks had sent Lance on a roller coaster of emotions that he was not properly equipped to handle. Everyone was walking on eggshells around him and he was done with it. He was tired of making his team cry or making them frustrated. He wanted this all to be over. He wanted to be comfortable as himself again. 

He wanted help.

The realization startled him.

He wasn’t going to admit that Keith was right, Not in a million years. But maybe he could start with talking to someone. Maybe Shiro. 

The thought made fear well up in him at the same time it calmed him down. Maybe he could feel like he belonged again. Maybe the team could help him.

Lance didn’t do anything else on the training deck before leaving. He let himself take a warmer shower and slid into bed. It felt wrong to let himself relax so much from his schedule but it would have to be a stepping stone.

Tomorrow he would find Shiro and talk to him.

Chapter Text

Lance did not talk to Shiro the next day. He didn’t even talk to him in the next week. As soon as he had woken up the morning after his… altercation with Keith, he’d wondered at how he’d even come to the conclusion to talk with Shiro.

After all, what kind of paladin let the situation get the better of them. Especially emotionally. Just the thought of asking someone, especially Shiro, for something like this sent shots of anxiety through his chest.

So he did his best to avoid absolutely everyone. He felt pathetic peaking around the corner of the kitchen to check that no one was in there, or practically sprinting to the library after a mission brief, but he couldn’t stand the looks that everyone on the ship was giving him.

Throughout the week, he could feel something unsettling bubbling up behind his walls. It made him want to throw up. He did his best to distract himself. He would train whenever the training room was empty. When it was full he would hide in the library and study different planets. He avoided the kitchen as much as he could during the day and mostly took his meals at night. His sleep schedule was severely fucked up because of this.

But it all seemed for naught when Lance caught them in the commons one night. 

He’d just finished a book of the planet Vatlegn in the library, certain everyone had retired by now, and he was walking towards the kitchen for some food when he passed the commons. Voices spilled into the hallway along with a warm looking light. It reminded him of cozy nights with friends or family and a sudden sharp wave of loneliness washed over him.

He paused and looked towards the glowing doorway. One peak couldn’t hurt. He missed his team mates and found himself very suddenly aching for a hug.

He tiptoed up to the doorway and pressed his back against the wall. The voices were hushed and Lance could only make out a few words here and there.

“Voltron… break… not healthy,”

Lance’s chest went cold. 

This was what he was scared of. Of course the team would need to do something about it. It’s not like he was at the top of his game. Perhaps he’d been more of a hindrance than he thought.

And it’s not like he couldn’t count. Five lions, six paladins. And now that Shiro was back and fighting ready this was the most logical option.

But even if it made sense, it still instilled him with so much fear that he found himself doing something rather irrational.

“Wait,” Everyone jumped and turned to face him and he felt his fear double. “Wait, please.”

Lance found he couldn’t really feel his fingertips. 

“Lance-” Shiro started but he was cut off.

“No, I know that I haven’t been doing my best and I’m sorry.”

Coran piped up then, hands clasped in front of him, “I think you’re confused.”

“I’m sorry,” There was a pain in his knees and distantly he realized he'd fallen to his knees. “I’m sorry I can do better,” No one else in the room moved. “Just please don’t make me leave.”

“What in the universe are you saying?” Allura’s accented voice made Lance flinch.

He should’ve guessed that. It’s not like he held much value in their eyes. Who wants a teammate who they didn’t see outside of missions. What if he couldn’t be trusted? Of course they would be confused that he said he could get better when there was no proof of it.

Lance shut his eyes. He couldn’t face this. He couldn’t watch his teammates tell him to get out. He didn’t want to face the rejection.

“Please.” He whispered, and he realized there were tears streaming down his face. He cracked his eyes open to see them forming a small puddle on the floor. 

Then a pair of boots entered his vision. He kept his gaze down as they knelt in front of him. A pair of hands were placed on his cheeks and lifted his face to meet grey eyes. Lance sucked in a wet breath and the warmth in the gaze and seeping from the hands.

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

Lance couldn’t help the confusion that hit him.

“You guys were talking about me taking a break.” Lance glanced behind Keith at the others. “Cause I’m not healthy for Voltron.”

“Hermano, no” Hunk also had tears in his eyes.

“We were talking about Voltron taking a break, not you, dumbass.” Pidge’s hands were curled into fists.

“Lance,” His gaze was pulled back to the boy in front of him. His expression was pinched. “Why would we get rid of you?”

Lance wanted to scoff but it came out as more of a pathetic sob. “Isn’t it obvious? I mean you have all come to me with some problem about me. I don’t know what I’m doing. I thought you wanted me to be better.”

“Everyone could use some self improvement, Number Three,” Coran’s voice didn’t hold the normal bright tone, but instead matched the tone that Lance had heard the other day in the kitchen. “But it should not come at the cost of losing yourself.”

“Why do you even want me around?” The question Lance felt terrified to ask.

“Because family doesn’t leave each other behind.” Keith’s response was immediate and so sure. Lance felt the dam break. His chest shook with sobs and his nose started dripping.

There were arms that encircled him and he was pulled against Keith. He felt warmth flooding through him from every point of contact and it only made him cry harder. He had missed this. The contact of loved ones.

Another pair of arms circled around the two on the floor and soon enough everyone had joined in. Lance was no longer the only one crying.

Family. It wasn’t the one from earth that he missed everyday, but it was his family. Keith was right, and it meant so much to him that Keith had been the one to remind him. In trying to be someone they wanted to keep around, he’d lost sight of the love they already had for him. Taken them from family in his eyes to just teammates that happened to be fighting together.

“Gracias, Keith.” Lance’s words were muffled in the boy’s shoulder, but he felt the responding squeeze.

Eventually the group hug dissipated. Lance felt his face flush in embarrassment at having openly cried on Keith’s shoulder, which was now wet with his tears and snot.

“Sorry,” Lance mumbled, his voice sticky.

“Nonsense, lad.” Coran chirped behind him. “It’s always healthy to express our emotions.”

Shiro then placed a hand on his shoulder. “Lance, we want you to understand that there is nothing you could do that would make us ‘get rid of’ you.” His eyes were warm and Lance somehow felt his eyes welling with more tears.

“You’re actually just stuck with us.” Pidge piped up from beside him.

Lance felt his lips tremble as he tried for a small smile. “Thanks guys. I think I really needed that.”

“Anytime, hermano.” Hunk’s arms were around him again. “Seriously, please talk to us in the future.”

Lance let out a wet chuckle. He went to wrap his arms around Hunk, craving more contact but was interrupted by his stomach.

He felt his cheeks flush and heard someone laugh.

“It seems that your stomach has an opinion of what we should do.” Allura’s accented voice held underlying mirth.

“I’ve got just the thing!” And Lance’s world was flipped around as Hunk threw him over his shoulder. He let out a small yelp and craned his neck to see the others also get up and follow them out. A warmth he hadn’t felt for a while flooded his chest as he watched Shiro pull Keith in with one arm and Pidge clamor close by saying it was no fair that Lance didn’t have to walk.

It felt nice to be at peace.

Lance feasted that night, surrounded by his family.