Chapter Text
It had been two days since the Galra attack on the castle and everyone was still on edge. The Galra had hit them at their weakest, and the Paladins had just barely squeaked out a victory. It was a victory that came with a cost, however.
Keith stared at the pod containing Lance’s body, for once not feeling thankful for the silence. He remembered the fear he felt when he saw Lance’s limp body draped against the crystal base. It had almost stopped his heart with fear.
Listening to the steady noises the revival machine made was in a way calming. Keith could swear he could even hear Lance’s steady breathing as he was in a coma-like state. In all reality, it probably wasn’t his breathing.
Keith huffed and plopped down on the ledge just in front of the pod. He had his back turned to Lance, a blush tinting his cheeks. He was just coming to terms with all the emotions the last battle was making him feel. He missed how he and Lance would go back and forth with each other, how watching Lance try to be suave with any feminine looking alien they came across made him feel, how he realized it might not be a rivalry he was dealing with. Could it be… he liked Lance? He felt his face get even hotter and shook his head violently. No way. There was no way he could have a crush on this dorky, wannabe Don Juan.
But, what else could explain this feeling? This heart rate, this flush creeping it’s way across his neck and face? What else could explain why he was sitting in front of Lance’s pod at two in the morning blushing like a middle schooler after a first kiss? It was certainly possible. And Lance wasn’t bad looking, Keith had to admit.
“Ugh, Lance, why did you get yourself into this situation?” Keith said out loud. He half expected Lance to fire back with, “Because you and your stupid mullet weren’t there!”
But all he was met with was silence. A hot tear dripped down his cheek and he place a hand over his mouth out of habit. Make no noise and no one will ever know you were crying. He was strong, he was resilient, but the injury of his “rival” brought him to his knees.
Keith leaned his head back against the pod and closed his eyes. “Lance…” his voice felt strange coming out. “Lance, if you can hear me, you need to come out now. I need you here with me. I need you here, it’s been too quiet.” Keith smiled. When Lance did get out everything would be better. They would have become closer, and maybe he could find out if Lance felt the same way.
“Lance,” Keith said again, standing up. “Lance, Lance, Lance.” He smiled and placed a hand on the glass of the pod. Right over Lance’s heart. “I need you as a co-pilot. We need our Blue Lion back.” He paused. “I need you back,” was whispered as he leaned his forehead on the glass.
Keith turned and began to move away from the pod, his hand lingering momentarily. Someday, when this whole Galra and Voltron thing was over, they could be happy. He could retire, maybe even with Lance, and they could have peaceful lives.
Oh, what a thought that was.
Keith walked to the door, exhaustion washing over him as he realized just how tired he really was. As soon as he reached the door, red lights and sirens went off. He spun around, trying to find the source of the alarm. When he saw it, his heart stopped once again.
It was coming from Lance’s pod, and it didn’t look good.