I'm back, bitches! But for real. I've been in writers block hell for the past several months and haven't been able to get anything done. This is the first thing I've completed in months and I am ecstatic! So have this angsty little 2k fic in the calm before season 8 airs and we all collectively lose our shit for one reason or another.

*Also, this has not been beta'd, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Lance jumped as the library doors crashed open. He turned just in time to see Keith storming towards him at an alarming speed. His immediate instinct was to scramble away from the threat bearing down on him, but his ego would never allow for that. So instead, Lance got to his feet just as Keith reached his table and put on his best 'I'm not scared of you' face, squaring off with the older man.

Keith, however, was taking none of Lance's bullshit tonight. He grabbed the collar of Lance's uniform and tugged him forward so that the two of them were mere inches apart. Then the shouting started.

"You died?!"

Lance stared blankly for a few seconds while his brain processed what was happening. His eyes widened to saucers.

Oh.

"Who-"

"It doesn't matter who told me," Keith barked, cutting Lance off before he'd even gotten the sentence out. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Lance was at a loss for words. To be honest, Lance wasn't entirely sure himself why he hadn't told Keith. He'd thought about it. As the team leader, it was probably something Keith should know. But he never got around to it.

"I - uh," Lance stammered out. His brain was short circuiting and he couldn't think about much else other than how close Keith was and how sweaty his hands were as they gripped the table behind him.

Keith looked hurt. Genuinely, truly hurt. Mixed with that hurt, however, was a fury raging behind those stormy grey eyes that gave Lance the chills.

"I can never get you to shut your mouth and you choose now to clam up?" Keith leaned in a little further, nose brushing against Lance's as he glared daggers into the Cuban boy. Lance swallowed.

This was so unlike Keith. Okay, maybe not the old Keith. But ever since he and Krolia returned from the Quantum Abyss, Keith had seemed much calmer, that hair-trigger temper of his subdued for the most part.

Lance didn't like being pushed around and the sooner he got some distance between him and Keith, the better. Lance mustered up all those old feelings of anger and abandonment from when Keith left. If Keith wanted shouting, then shouting he would get.

Lance pried his hands off of the library table and shoved Keith hard in the shoulders. Keith clearly hadn't been expecting this and stumbled back a couple feet. Lance breathed a sigh of relief at having reclaimed his personal space. Having Keith that close to him did bad things to his heart and that so wasn't what he needed right now.

"Why do you even care?" Lance questioned. His brows were furrowed and he wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands. Lance doubted he looked as imposing as he would have liked, but it wasn't as easy now that he and Keith were the same height.

Now it was Keith's turn to be speechless. Lance supposed he hadn't anticipated the conversation being turned at him. Keith was a very 'fly by the seat of your pants' kind of guy. He didn't always think things through beyond step one.

Lance moved forward, spurred on by adrenaline and frustration, any rational thought process pretty much gone. He'd shoved Keith away to get him out of Lance's personal space and yet here he was now, getting all up in Keith's face as he'd done to him.

"You weren't there," he started. "You left us. We needed you and you left us!"

Keith's expression fell as Lance stared him down, blue eyes seeming to pierce his very soul. Guilt lay plain across his features. He looked to the side, unable to hold eye contact with the Cuban boy any longer.

"I had my reasons for that," he muttered, more to himself than to Lance.

Lance groaned at the vague response. It always seemed like Keith was hiding something and that killed Lance.

Keith reclaimed the fire he'd stormed in with and took a step forward, then another, forcing Lance back toward the table. Lance refused to back down.

"You still haven't answered me," Keith said, tone even. Lance almost preferred the shouting.

"I-I don't know, okay?" Lance had considered lying, but nothing he came up with seemed good enough.

Lance ran a hand through his hair, feeling awkward and frustrated and confused all at once. He let out a sigh and leaned back against the table he'd been seated at just a few moments ago. Already it felt longer. Lance wasn't sure what Keith wanted him to say. It happened. He lived. He's fine, now.

Was he really, though? He hadn't talked to anyone about the incident since it happened. They were kind of in the middle of a war at the moment. Lance didn't want to bother anyone unnecessarily. A few sleepless nights wouldn't kill him… again.

"I guess," Lance started again. He was talking and processing at the same time which made for slow conversation. Keith waited patiently, however as Lance worked through the jumble inside his brain. "I didn't want you to worry. You had enough on your plate and the last thing you needed in the middle of a war was to deal with my problems, too."

Keith was quiet for a moment. Lance wasn't looking at him anymore, opting to study the surrounding bookshelves instead. This was just straight up embarrassing. Lance didn't know how to do this. This was stuff he usually kept to himself. Shrug it off and move on with a grin on his face - that's what he'd always done. Fake it til you make it.

"You died," Keith muttered under his breath. Lance looked over to find him staring at the floor, hand clenched into fists at his sides. His body was rigid and still as a stone, black hair falling over his forehead, obscuring his face from view.

"We've already established that Kei-"

"You died and I wasn't there," Keith spoke louder now, but still hadn't looked up from the floor.

"Look, man I'm sorry about saying that stuff, I was just angry…" Lance trailed off as Keith's head shot up, tears spilling onto the floor leaving little trails down his pale cheeks.

"You died and I wasn't there and I don't remember the last thing I said to you before I left and if Allura hadn't brought you back I-" Keith cut his ramble short, sucking in some much-needed oxygen, his chest heaving.

Lance was stunned.

"Keith…"

"I've lost too many people that I care about," Keith started again, looking Lance right in the eye as he spoke. "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you, too."

Lance remained silent as the weight of those words sank in. He felt the tears welling up in his own eyes as he stared at the man before him. His classmate. His rival. His teammate. His leader. His friend…

Lance sort of lost it then, sobbing uncontrollably and sliding down to the floor. He'd been keeping so much in for so long. He was a dam waiting to burst and Keith's words were the final straw.

Keith's eyes went wide as Lance fell to his knees. Keith really didn't know how to handle these kinds of situations. He bent down in front of Lance, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. For a good minute, Lance did nothing but cry while Keith stroked his shoulder with his thumb, unsure of what else to do. He'd caused this situation and now he had no idea how to fix it.

Lance collected himself enough to stop the uncontrollable sobbing. He still had tears leaking from his eyes but for the moment there was nothing he could do about that. All caution blown to the wind, Lance lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Keith's torso and knocking him off balance. The pair went tumbling to the floor.

Keith rubbed the back of his head where it had made contact with the tile. That was going to hurt in the morning. Lance had yet to relinquish his grip on Keith's middle and Keith once again was at a loss as to how to react.

"Yuranidot," Lance mumbled into Keith's chest. This had Keith smiling for two reasons. One, he had no idea what Lance had just said, and two, he was trying to stop himself from laughing or squirming. Keith might be just a tad on the ticklish side.

"I don't think that was English or Spanish, Lance," Keith said softly, gazing down at the boy gripping him for dear life.

Lance groaned. He removed his face from Keith's chest, opting instead to rest his chin in the middle of Keith's sternum, still not moving his arms, and gazing into grey eyes laced with amusement. It was a much better look on him than upset, Lance thought.

"I said you're an idiot."

Keith's smile faltered, confused. Lance burst out laughing at the baffled look on his face.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Lance continued, more serious this time but with a gentle smile resting on his lips. "And I'm sorry for what I said earlier about you leaving us. I guess that wound isn't quite as healed as I thought."

Lance laughed the comment off, but Keith wasn't done with this conversation quite yet.

"I left because of you."

Okay, now Lance was just downright offended. He opened his mouth to retort but Keith cut him off.

"That didn't come out right," he said, head falling back down against the tile and a hand coming up to cover his face.

"You think?"

"What I meant was that I left - I don't know. I guess so that you wouldn't have to."

Lance stared at him, confused.

Keith leaned up on his elbows, shifting Lance but not removing him completely. If he was honest, he didn't really mind having Lance all over him like this. Not that he was planning on admitting that anytime soon.

"Do you remember that conversation we had in my room? Before everything went to shit and I left with the Blade."

Lance nodded, unsure where this was going.

"You said you felt like a seventh wheel, like you weren't part of the team. But that's not true. You are the heart and soul of this team, Lance. Voltron wouldn't be the same without you." And neither would I, he thought to himself. "At the time, I guess I figured it was better for me to leave and give the reigns back over to Shiro. Then you would be sure you still had a place, even if you hated me for it."

Lance processed this for a moment, searching Keith's face. He wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he found it.

"I could never hate you," he said quietly, almost a whisper. Keith's breath hitched. "I can't believe you did that for me." Lance smiled, then out of the blue moved one hand out from underneath Keith and reached up to flick him right in the middle of the forehead.

"Ow!" Keith exclaimed, hand coming up to rub the sore spot. "What the hell, Lance?"

"Don't ever do anything like that ever again!" There wasn't any real bite behind his words, but he was definitely annoyed. "Do you have any idea the kind of hell I went through while you were gone? Shiro was acting crazy and rude, Pidge and Hunk were off in their own little science filled world, and then Lotor and Allura decided to get all lovey-dovey and I wanted to hurl." Lance was rambling. He knew it. Keith knew it, too, but had no intention of stopping him. "No one listened to me," he continued a little more somber. "I didn't realize how important you were to me until you were gone."

Lance buried his face into Keith's chest again, hiding the blush spreading up his neck and burning his cheeks. He squeaked in surprise as Keith got to his feet, pulling Lance up with him.

"Let's go get something to eat."

It wasn't a question, but it wasn't a demand either. Lance sputtered as Keith smiled at him in that disarming way only he could manage. Lance, not to be outdone and desperately trying to cover up his embarrassment cocked one hip to the side and put on his cockiest smile.

"Why, Keith," he started, his voice laced with mock surprise. "Are you asking me to dinner?"

"Yes."

Lance's smile faltered.

Keith didn't give him a chance to think about it too hard. He'd done enough of that tonight and honestly, Keith was a little afraid that his head might explode. He was certainly red enough, Keith noted with pride.

"Let's go," he said before turning on his heel and dragging Lance from the library toward the mess hall. Lance hadn't even realized that Keith hadn't let go of the hand he'd pulled Lance up with. He flushed, adjusting his grip so their fingers were intertwined as they strolled down the hallway not quite able to look each other in the eye. Lance could have sworn the tips of Keith's ears turned just a little bit red. Now they were even.