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The Black Lion sat dark and silent on the hangar floor.
Keith had been standing in front of it for maybe ten seconds, or maybe ten minutes he couldn't tell anymore. His ears were ringing. The battle debrief was still going in the background, Allura's voice cutting in and out, and none of it was reaching him because *Shiro was gone*.
Not dead. Not de...he didn't know. The cockpit had been empty. The lion wouldn't let anyone in.
His chest caved.
*Breathe.* He knew the word. He couldn't make his body do it. Every attempt shook apart halfway through, stuttered into something too shallow, too fast, his lungs refusing the instruction. The hangar walls had gone wrong somehow too close and too far at the same time and his hands were shaking against his thighs. His body slumps downwards.
He heard footsteps. Didn't turn.
"Hey." Lance. Not quiet exactly, but softer than usual. No edge to it.
Keith didn't answer.
Lance came to sits beside him nott in front, not facing him, just. Next to him. Looking at the Black Lion too.
A few seconds passed.
"Okay," Lance said, low. "I need you to do something for me."
"I'm fine."
"Yeah, I know." No argument in it. "Still. Can you feel your feet right now?"
Keith blinked. "What?"
"Your feet. On the floor. Can you feel them?"
It was such a strange, small thing to ask that Keith actually looked down. His boots on the metal grating. The slight give of his weight shifting. "...Yeah."
"Good. That's good." Lance didn't look at him. "What about your hands?"
Keith's hands were shaking against his thighs. He looked at them. "They're" His voice caught. "Lance."
"I know." Still that same voice. Even. Unhurried. "What do they feel like. Just tell me."
"Cold," Keith managed. "They're cold."
"Okay. Cold. What else."
"I don't" A breath that didn't land right. "I don't know where he. I don't know what..."
"Yeah." Lance moved, just slightly his shoulder pressing against Keith's. Steady. Real. Not grabbing him, not turning him, just present. "That's not your feet, though is it. Tell me something else."
Keith almost said *what does that matter* but something in Lance's voice stopped him. He tried again. His feet. The floor under them.
"...Cold too," he said. "The floor."
"Yeah, this hangar's freezing." Lance exhaled through his nose. "Allura keeps it like a meat locker. I've complained about it."
Something very small and involuntary almost moved in Keith's chest.
"Take a breath with me," Lance said. "Slow. Just follow me."
He heard Lance breathe in, long and deliberate. Keith tried to match it. His lungs seized up halfway and he made a sound he didn't mean to make, something that wanted to turn into *Shiro, Shiro, where did you go!*
"Hey hey.That's okay," Lance said immediately. "Try again. Start smaller."
He did. Smaller. And Lance was still there, shoulder to shoulder, breathing slow and unhurried like they had all the time in the world, like this was the only thing happening, like there was no crisis except the one inside Keith's ribs.
The second breath came a little further.
The third one almost worked.
Keith stood in the cold hangar until his hands stopped shaking. Until the walls were walls again. Until his breath came in and came out and he could feel the floor under his feet the whole time.
The Black Lion sat dark and silent. Shiro was still gone.
But Keith was still standing.
"We're going to find him," Lance said eventually. Not a question. Not to comfort. Just like it was true and had always been true and there was nothing else to say about it.
Keith swallowed. "Yeah."
"Okay." Lance straightened, pulled back just slightly. Giving him his space back. "Okay. Come on, then."
Keith followed him.