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Keith hasn’t felt this low since Shiro left for Kerberos. Lower than low, he’s absolutely flush to the ground.
Being back on Earth meant so much to the others. He knew it, saw it first hand. But for him, he felt useless amidst the reunions.
Krolia and Kolivan were there when he woke up and he knew that meant they truly cared, but they had to leave almost immediately afterward. Something about a research operation for the Blades. Keith was still in recovery, therefore, was told a firm “no” when he asked if he could accompany them. He knew rationally it was too soon and and he had a decent amount of recovering to do still, even so, their collective no definitely stung.
Soon after they’d defeated Sendak and his soldiers and intergalactic things had settled, the paladins were given living quarters within the Garrison. Each paladin had a bedroom and bathroom to themselves despite the quarters ultimately mimicking a college dorm, common room and shared kitchen included. It felt a lot like life while they were first getting accustomed to the Castle of Lions with Allura and Coran. Different, in many ways, yet so familiar.
It isn’t like they’re not allowed to leave, the Garrison simply wanted to keep them there until things settled down. In other words, until everyone was healed and the general population was informed of what happened--whether that meant they’d learn the whole truth, a partial truth, or an utter lie.
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Keith was currently in the aforementioned common room curled under a blanket. An air purifier was humming in a corner of the room, and a window cracked open in the adjacent corner. One thing that he’d thought while in space was that cigarettes would cease to exist on Earth and yet, there he was with a pack of Jupiter’s and a grey lighter. Then again, humans are and always will be creatures of habit and this was quite the habit to break.
Lance absolutely hated it. Every time they cuddled or kissed, he’d frown and give Keith a sad, questioning look. It’s not that he was entirely against it, Lance just knew Keith’s habits. Soon he’d ditch the nicotine and pick up his razors again. And Lance was terrified that day was approaching far faster than it ever had before. Keith hated how well Lance knew him.
“Ugh. Smoking in the house again Keith?” A voice spat disdainfully.
He jumped a mile and whipped his head around to find Pidge plugging her nose obnoxiously with a look of disgust on her face.
“Sorry… I’ll just. I’ll just take it outside. Sorry.” Keith said, abruptly standing up, grabbing his pack, lighter, and keys while throwing the blanket onto the couch.
“Keith… Should I get Lan—”
“No! No, I’m fine.” Keith cut her off.
“...okay. If you say so…” Pidge said apprehensively. “Drive safe please.”
Keith nodded and turned, taking quick strides out the door, feeling pressure build behind his eyes and guilt burning in his chest. “What the fuck?” He thought, “Why am I crying?”
He hopped into his car and jammed the keys into ignition. Rolling the windows and slamming his fingers into the buttons on the head unit until his playlist started playing, he took a long drag of his cigarette and backed out.
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He didn’t know what time it was or how long he’d been driving but he did know he was suddenly very aware of his phone ringing loud and obnoxious. He shook his head as if it would shake out the fog and bad thoughts in his brain and answered.
“...Hello?” He said, trying too hard to sound casual but failing miserably.
“KEITH! Thank God!” Someone hollered into the phone.
“Lance?”
“Where the hell are you? It’s three in the fucking morning! I’ve been calling you for almost 30 minutes straight at this point.” Lance exclaimed, his tone full of concern.
“Um…” Keith trailed off before saying anything, not having anything at all to say.
“Keith. What do you mean ‘um’? Do you need me to come get you? Are you okay?”
“I’m at 22nd N and Allen, calm down. I’m okay. I went for a drive and I guess… lost track of time.”
Lance sighed and mumbled something out of the range of the phone. “Okay. Please let us know when you’re going to be out this late. I’m sorry I freaked out, I don’t mean to sound like a control freak. I just worry about you.”
“Don’t apologize. I told Pidge where I was going.”
“Babe… that was at 10 o’clock... Just. Focus on driving and head back please. I’ll wait for you.”
Keith felt his stomach burn with guilt, the taste of acrid smoke singing its way up into his throat. “You don’t have to wait, Lance. I’ll be fine to let myself in.”
“Don’t be silly, I’ll wait. Love you.”
“...love you too.” The call ended before Keith could move the phone away from his ear.
He let it drop to his lap and made a U-turn, starting the drive back.
“What is wrong with me?” He thought.
The urge to slip into his old routines was so utterly pressing, it was frightening. The inky black static fogged his brain, clouding his judgement. He found himself missing his blades. He only felt like this once while in space, which was when he was discovered as half Galra. Allura, and in his mind everyone else, treated him like the enemy. He shut himself away in his room, throwing away the two in half years he was clean.
Of course it was Lance who had to find him. Bleeding all over the place, face covered in tear tracks, shaky and pale, swaying and breathing shallow from the hypovolemia.
He spent 7 hours in a healing pod, having done quite a number on himself.
Lance was the only one there when it opened up. He helped Keith out and gave him a tight hug then called for Shiro to return.
The disappointment on Shiro’s face…
Keith didn’t like thinking about it.
It took him around an hour to get back to the Garrison.
He realized he didn’t drive with intent of going far as he stayed in the same general area for a good amount of time.
He pulled into the driveway, which housed the other four cars they’d been given, and turned the car off. He shoved the key into his hoodie pocket and shuffled into the house, eyelids heavy. Whether he was tired and needed sleep or just tired of being alive or a combination of both, he didn’t know.
When he opened the door, Lance was waiting nearby, fiddling with his phone. He glanced up when Keith walked in and scrunched his nose up as he made his way over to him.
“How many?” He asked.
Keith cleared his throat, hoping to get rid of any emotion. “I uh, I don’t know… Maybe four?”
Lance sighed. “Let’s go get showered and go to sleep, ‘kay?”
Keith nodded and leaned into Lance’s side as he kissed his cheek. He kept his arms wrapped around the other as Lance gathered a towel for him. They made their way towards their bathroom, or rather Lance walked Keith there.
“Are you okay to shower by yourself?” Lance asked.
He cringed at the thought of not being able to be trusted alone. Keith nodded.
“‘Kay. I’ll be in bed. Love you.”
Standing under the scorching spray, Keith felt the urge return far worse than it had been in the past few weeks. It was no longer inky black, but rather a blood red, the static almost deafening. He knew there was a blade under the sink. Fears of disappointment were no longer fronting in his mind, pushed out of the way by the urges to relapse. He was trapped. Get Lance and make it worse by telling him, resulting in him being sad and most likely annoyed, or relapse and try to hide it. He shut the water off and wrapped a towel around himself, shivering.
Almost robotically, he took a step to open the cupboard under the sink and reached into the back to pull out a box of bandaids. Inside, of course, there were no bandaids, but rather a tiny scalpel blade. Guilt burned in his stomach as he sat down on the closed toilet lid. Lance was going to be so mad at him. In the end the urge overpowered his guilt and he hovered the scalpel blade over his now exposed thigh. He took in a breath and swiped.
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“Keith? Are you okay in there? It’s been a while.”
There was no answer.
Lance furrowed his eyebrows and tried the doorknob.
Locked.
Concern built steadily in his chest and he knocked on the door a bit harder than necessary.
“Keith?”
“...Hm.”
“Keith? C’mon open the door, bud.” Lance said, his tone tight with worry.
Suddenly the lock clicked and Lance jumped out of surprise. He moved slowly to open it, praying to any higher power that this wasn’t what he thought it was. Of course nothing and no one answered his prayers because when he walked in all he saw red.
Sitting against the tub, Keith’s thigh was covered in drippy red blood, his face was flush with tears, and his fingertips were caked in a rusty coat of dried blood. He was still and his eyes were cast down at the mess.
“Oh Keith…”
Keith made a whimpering sound and tears began flowing far more freely than before.
Lance shushed him and held his shoulders. “Hey, hey you’re fine, it’s okay.”
Keith’s words were garbled when he spoke but Lance made sense of the words “mad” and “sorry”.
“Keith- Hey, look at me okay? I’m not mad at you. I promise I’m not.”
Keith gave him a look of disbelief as his eyes glassed over again.
“Okay, how about this, I’m gonna clean you up and then we can talk in bed when you’ve calmed down, alright?”
Keith stared blankly at the wall in front of him, which Lance took as his cue to start. He went through the motions of getting a towelette from the second cupboard and running it under warm water to wipe the drying or already drying blood from his thigh. Then he made sure none were deep enough to need suturing. A few looked questionable, but he knew how much Keith would hate to be admitted to a Garrison facility. After examining the cuts, he got a bottle of isopropyl and poured a bit on a piece of gauze. Keith’s trance seemed to break when he felt the alcohol touch his skin because he winced and hissed through his teeth.
“I know, I know.” Lance comforted him. “Almost done.”
Once he was satisfied with cleaning them, he took out a large square of gauze and dug around for the medical tape. What he grabbed was Keith’s athletic tape. He shrugged, figuring it would work the same. Lance arranged the square in a position where all the wounds would be covered and ripped some tape off the roll to secure it. He then threw away any remaining trash and turned back to Keith.
“How you feelin’?”
Keith’s eyes were glazed over again, but he shrugged and pulled on Lance's sleeve.
Lance sat down next to him and took him into his arms. “I’m sorry I left you here alone. I had a feeling this would happen… but I trusted the wrong gut.”
Keith simply sniffled and wrapped his arms around Lance’s midriff. “It’s my fault. I should’ve gotten you. I’m sorry you always end up cleaning up my f-fuck ups.”
“Shh, stop thinking so hard, it’s hurting my brain. You didn’t fuck up, you did something merely expected when someone is trying to recover. You can’t fault yourself for that.”
Lance felt a few tears drip onto his shirt and squeezed Keith a little tighter, wishing he could just squeeze out all the bad thoughts that plagued his boyfriend’s brain like toothpaste in a tube.
They sat in silence for a bit, the only sounds being a simple white noise coming from a vent of sorts and the occasional sniffle from Keith. After some time passed, Lance urged Keith up so they could move to their bed.
“Keith, hold on.” Lance said as Keith moved ahead towards the door. He sighed. He knew what was coming.
“Where is it bud?”
“W-where’s what?”
“C’mon, don’t do that. Please Keith?”
He moved his face away from Lance's view and pointed to the cupboard mumbling, “In the bandage box.”
He heard some shuffling, then the rip of some toilet paper, more shuffling, then finally a sigh.
“Only one?” Lance asked.
Keith nodded sadly.
“Promise?”
Another nod.
“Okay, c’mon let’s go put some PJ’s on you and go to bed.” Lance said, shutting the bathroom light.
Keith felt his face burn. This is what he’s become. A child-like burden to his boyfriend. Wonderful.
He slipped into a hoodie and some boxers and climbed into the bed on his side. Lance opened his arms and signaled for Keith to join him. He balled his hands in the sleeves of his hoodie and leaned into his boyfriend’s warmth.
“What happened?” Lance questioned.
Keith shrugged, “I dunno. Everything just… got too much. It was all too loud and I had to let it out- Ugh no that’s too… too flowery, I don’t know.”
Lance combed through Keith’s semi-damp hair and sighed. “It’s okay. I understand. Do you wanna talk about it more?”
Keith shook his head.
“Alright, let’s sleep then, okay?”
Obviously exhausted from the minimal energy he had used up in the short, choppy explanation, Keith nodded and slid down farther under the duvet.
Cuddled up close to Lance’s chest, he realized he felt safe.
Regardless of the amount of times he may slip up, he knew Lance would be there for him no matter the circumstances.
He drifted off feeling safe and loved. Lance didn’t cure him. Lance didn’t make him instantly better. But he felt decent knowing there would always be one person on his side.