To be perfectly clear, Lance did not want to do this.

He sat on a large, glowing white platform shaped in a circle. Adjacent to that circle sat a small observation table with many green holographic images floating above it. Altean words scrolled down the green screens. Allura's eyes focused on reading the screen, her eyebrows knit together in concentration. Her arms leaned on top of the desk and her eyes rested a few inches from the biggest holographic screen.

She occasionally typed out words on the holographic keyboard. She pressed enter and more holographic screens popped up. Each with more words scattered in them. Allura groaned in frustration.

She pounded her fingertips on the keyboard once more. The circle glowed brighter.

Lance stood up. His stomach ached. His mouth dried up. He tried to hide his trembling. His eyes blinded by the luminescent light that obscured his vision of his teammates.

Almost like he sensed Lance's discomfort, Shiro's voice echoed through the dark room, "You'll be okay Lance. Pidge said it's safe to use. If it doesn't work, it won't hurt you."

Lance tried to seem like he felt comforted by this notion, but Shiro had the wrong assumption.

"Yeah, don't worry, Lance," Pidges voice chimed in. "If it does actually work, we'll probably see one of your many embarrassing secrets."

Lance crossed his arms. "Great," he groaned.

"If it's any comfort, you embarrass yourself daily," Keith said.

Lance loudly groaned and tilted his head back. Happy memories, he told himself, think happy memories.

"Don't you fret, paladins, every one of you will have a chance to have your teammates experience your hardships with you," Coran's voice explained from the darkness. "Look forward to learning more about each other!"

Lance shifted uncomfortably. His hand unconsciously touched his ear. He gritted his teeth and looked at the floor. His other hand wrapped around his waist.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Hunk asked from the void.

Lance quickly snapped back into a relaxed stance. "Just thinking about home."

Hunk ah'd. "We'll finally get to see it, maybe?"

Lance shrugged and forced a smile. "Yeah, buddy!" Happy memories, Lance repeated to himself.

Allura tapped the keyboard again and pressed enter. All the words on the hologram screens glowed a brilliant blue. The light around Lance became more intense. Lance's heart rate sped up. He took in short shallow breaths and closed his eyes.

The light engulfed him.

"Yes! All set! Now Lance! Show us-" Allura's voice cut off. The light overwhelmed his senses.

Lance's hands covered his ears. All the weight of his body suddenly seeped from under him. His world melted white. He felt weightless. His body floated in the light.

Images suddenly warped around him. Sounds that danced alongside the images became more and more distant.

The sounds dissolved into the white. The images intensified.

His heart pounded in his chest. The sensation of its pressure pulled his body to the ground.

Lance stopped breathing.

The morning sun assaulted Lance's sleeping eyelids. His eyes sluggishly opened and adjusted to his surroundings. He looked down at his hands. His fingers uncomfortably thin and small. Lance closed his eyes. His breaths slowed to an even pace.

The world around him felt so painfully quiet.

He felt the wood boards under his fingertips shake. His eyes snapped to the source of movement. No one. His eyes surveyed the room he fell asleep in. The room, a small attic space turned into a small sleeping space, was filled with dust and old boxes. His own bed a small pile of old blankets and quilts made by his abuelita. He sat up. A slight tug released one blanket from it's placed tied around his neck.

Lance turned his head and looked outside. The sun barely peeked out above the horizon. His eyes scanned over what little of his neighborhood he could see. Blue tarps laid over patches of neighbors roofs. Each house grey, washed out and crumbling apart.

The wood below his fingertips vibrated. Lance turned his head to the other side. His stepfather, a burly Irishman with a pot belly and a thick reddish-brown beard, stepped closer to Lance. Lance felt himself still. His stepfather also became still. His fat belly rose large and heavy. The veins on his face popped up, annoyed.

His arms raised slightly above his sides and fingers curled into fists. Lance narrowed his eyebrows at him.

His stepfather's mouth moved. Lance's nose scrunched up. The stepfather's face reddened. The stepfather narrowed his eyebrows and frowned. His mouth moved again, this time his mouth opened up bigger and his veins popped up from under the skin of his neck. Lance stated back.

His heart picked up speeds when his stepdad raised a fist. Quickly, Lance hopped to his feet and dodged his stepfather. He squeezed past his stepfather and ran down the stairs.

Down two flights of stairs, and Lance nearly ran into his mother in the kitchen. Lance fell on his butt. He gave her a sly smile and waved nervously. She shook her head. Her tired, empty eyes looked through him. Her once glowing tan skin now took on a pallor grey. Lips pale and chapped combined with sunken in cheeks, Lance swore his mother became a ghoul. She wiped her hands on her washed out yellow dress that stretched down to her ankles.

A gentle hand grabbed his arm and hoisted him up. He looked to his side. His older sister smiled gently at him. Her eyes painted with glittering gold that faded into a soft red-orange, much like a sunset. Thickly placed black eyeliner curved at the ends of her eye. Her soft heart shaped face glowed. She brought up her hands and they formed a heart shape. Lance grinned.

She took him to the kitchen table seated behind the kitchen appliances and stovetops. Lance's other sibling, his brother, sat at the table. His older brother squinted at Lance with his eyebrows softly drawn up in worry.

A look that meant 'he's chasing after you again, isn't he?'

Lance simply nodded.

The floor shook. Lance looked to the archway between the kitchen and living room. The stepfather stood there. His chest heaved and his face flushed red. He yelled something at Lance's mom who stood in the kitchen near the stove. She shook her head.

The Stepfather rose his hand up and smacked her across the face. Lance felt the table shift closer to himself. His head snapped across from him where his older brother now stood.

His brother, his features well defined and sharp, moved his mouth aggressively quick. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. Veins in his neck revealed themselves with every movement of his brother's lips. Then his stepfather barged towards his brother.

Their stepfather took his brother's shirt and pulled him up by it. Lance panicked. His heart beat in his throat. He stood up and his throat muscles tightened. Very hard. He gasped at the sensation, something he never really did. Their stepfather pushed his brother down and charged at Lance.

Lance ran out of his chair. He ran into the living room, but his shirt got yanked back. His stepfather threw him onto the coffee table. The coffee table broke under the impact. Lance's chest burned and his back stung.

His stepfather stood over him. He rose up a fist and slammed it into his cheek. His cheeks ached, and tears fell down his face. Sharp pain stung where each hit landed. Something warm and wet dripped from his nose. His stepfather fell off of him. His sister ran over and took his body, and pulled it towards her.

His brother punched and beat their stepfather. He backed up eventually, his fists bloody. He looked at Lance, his mouth wide open and chest moving up and down rapidly. He smirked at Lance. Lance smiled as much as he could back.

His sister's grip on his midsection tightened.

Lance didn't go to his school that day. Neither did his sister. His brother went, though. He dressed in a clean uniform, his backpack stuffed full and waved goodbye to both of them. Lance looked up at his sister's face. Tears streamed down her face. Something unsettlingly cold fell into the pit of Lance's stomach.

Lance went to school the next day. His sister stashed him inside her closet. He made his own little bed there, complete with a stuffed blue shark and a small white pillow.

He put his uniform on quickly in the morning and got dressed quickly. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and took off before the sun completely went up, and before his own sister woke up.

He snuck down the stairs and hurriedly left his home. No run-ins with his stepfather or mom.

The walk to school always presented itself a chore. Too many things to watch out for. Fast cars wiped around street corners, sketchy people with shiny knives at every block, and dogs barely chained in their yards always gave Lance the sense of danger. Lance made sure he kept his eyes focused on himself, like what his sister taught him to do.

In school, Lance relaxed in his seat. His teacher, a mildly stressed white woman in her mid-thirties and dressed sixty, kneeled beside him. Her lips moved and she pointed a finger at a younger woman behind herself. This lady had dark skin and big brown eyes. Her hair held in long locs. Lance tilted his head.

She waved at him. He waved back. He looked at his teacher cautiously, then back to the woman. He got up and approached her. The lady got out a notebook. She wrote in it using a pen. She showed him what she wrote.

'I'm going to teach you a super cool language that you can do too!'

Lance tilted his head. His eyes scanned the words again. He smiled and nodded his head. She took his hand and led him to an extra room adjacent to the second-grader room. This room looked better; a newer grey-blue carpet, a large open window to the woods, and colorful pictures of hands with words written at the bottom of it decorated the room.

The lady tapped the seat across from her for Lance to sit down. She wrote in the notebook.

'Let's start!'

Lance went home that day with a binder full of pictures of hands doing different signs. He practiced the signs himself and spelled his name. Then he signed his new teacher's name, Miss Greene. He signed his sister's name, C L A R A. Clara.

Lance ran inside of his house.

His grin wide and face lit up. He went through the house. No one in the kitchen or living room. He ran upstairs. No persons in the bedrooms or bathrooms. He went into the attic. No one there either. Lance huffed and put his hands on his hips. He decided to go to wait in his sister's closet until she came back.

Lance got shaken awake. His sister pressed a kiss to his forehead. His eyes squinted into the darkness. She mouthed something. She kneeled back. Her backpack stuffed full and sling over her back. Lance's eyes began to water.

She hugged him again and kissed his cheek. Her mouth moved again. He tilted his head. She shook her head. She made a heart with her hands. Lance did it back. She put her heart over his. Her eyes stared deep into Lance's.

Then Clara left.

Lance left for school before the sun came up.

He left school only when the sun went down low enough and when he knew his parents left for the bar.

Lance snuck in through the back door instead of the front.

Lance dodged his mother and stepfather completely. He continued to sleep in his sister's closet.

This cycle repeated.

Until Lance came to school one early morning. Miss Greene pulled him into one of the offices only teachers and the principal went into. The office, painted a cream color, flower in red and green Christmas decorations, although the weather outside never portrayed Christmas season.

A lady in a doctor's coat sat across from Miss Greene. Her legs crossed and body leaned forward slightly. A soft smile lifted the corners of her lips.

Miss Greene signed slowly for Lance to understand.

The school is donating a pair of hearing aids for you.

Lance's eyes widened. He looked at the doctor, who nodded, and back at Miss Greene. He grinned. His face suddenly very hot. His eyes burned.

Miss Greene rubbed his back.

Lance inhaled sharply. All the air in his lungs suddenly gone. His eyes adjusted to the pale glowing light around himself. His clothes illuminated a pale blue light that died with the lights of the circle. The circular light that illuminated him dimmed. He sat on his knees. His hands covered his ears.

He uncovered his ears.

His eyes adjusted to the room. The faces of his fellow paladins met his eyes. They stared sympathetically at him.

"Lance," Allura said softly from the observation table stationed adjacent from the platform Lance sat on. "I'm sorry."

Lance stood up. His legs numb and tingly. "It's okay," Lance shrugged. "I'd do anything for you, princess," he smiled and winked at her. Instead of complaining or groaning, Allura smiled softly back.

Lance walked off the platform. Hunk clapped him on the back, then hugged him.

"I-I didn't know," Pidge whispered.

Lance shrugged. "Can't be a devilishly handsome heartbreaker without the secretive angsty past, right?"

"Lance…" Shiro's voice did not hold the heat it usually did towards Lance's remarks.

"I'm okay, really," Lance untangled himself from Hunk and backed away from the group. "I'm, uh, kinda tired from all that mind dissection thing," Lance said quickly, "I think I'm gonna turn in early," he finger-gunned towards his teammates awkwardly.

Shiro nodded. "That's a good idea. If you need anyone, we are here for you, Lance."

Lance rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. "Of course! I know you guys are." He left hurriedly out of the room.

The night didn't clear Lance's thoughts away. Lance tossed and turned. His eyes heavy, but mind wide awake. I knew they'd find out eventually, Lance clicked his tongue. His eyes stared into the dark of his room. His heart pounded in his chest. He swallowed thickly. Bile crept to the edge of his throat.

I should've...He shook his head. No. He shouldn't have. He has a new family now. A family who loves him and supports him way better than the one he knew. A family where, yes, he fought to save and to survive, but he knew they'd fight for him too. A shuddered breath escaped his lips. He shook his head. His face warm and eyes burned. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't need to hide from them anymore.

I don't have to pretend to be okay, he sighed. A ten-pound weight settled on his solar plexus. He took several deep breaths, trying to relieve the pressure. It increased in weight. I can do this. They love me still. I can do thi-

Something knocked on his door. Lance quickly faced the wall his bed pushed against. Another knock. The door slid open. Lance didn't turn around to see which paladin entered the room. Likely Hunk. The door closed. Footsteps lightly echoed in the room. A light pressure sunk into his mattress. Lance didn't stir.

"Hey," Keith's voice said. Lance almost jumped out of his skin. "I know you're awake."

Lance rolled onto his back. He sat up gently and rested his head against the wall behind himself. Keith stared at Lance, his eyebrows quirked up in worry. He looked down at his hands folded in his lap for a second. Then his hand gently reached out and grabbed Lance's hand. His fingers wrapped around Lance's. Keith stared at his own lap. Lance stared at their hands, his brain dizzy with confusion.

"I just wanted to let you know that we're here for you. And that, yeah, we haven't been through what you've been through, but we're still your family," Keith stated. "Whatever we see tomorrow- or not, it's completely up to you," Keith met Lance's eyes. "Nothing will change."

Lance shook his head. His bottom lip trembled. "I'll do it. I can't not tell my family. And you guys have the right to know."

Keith squeezed his hand. "You can still change your mind, you know. You don't have to do this."

"I have to," Lance pressed his lips together. He took a deep breath. "I gotta. It's kinda cathartic...in a way," Lance felt his body sag. His body fatigued and exhausted. Lance yawned. "I never really told anyone outside of my teacher. None of us kids wanted to talk about it," Lance's thumb rubbed circles around Keith's. "I didn't even tell Hunk and I've known him forever."

Keith nodded. "It's hard talking about stuff like this."

"You're like me, aren't you?" Lance's eyes drifted down to their hands. Keith looked away. "It's okay. You don't have to talk about it."

Keith shrugged. Lance leaned forward and hugged Keith's shoulders. Lance rested his forehead against the base of Keith's neck. Keith shivered a little. "I don't really need to when you all experience it with me."

"It's good to talk about it too," Lance's breath tickled Keith. "Thank you." Lance moved away from Keith.

"I never thought that I would be including you, but we both need to open up more," Keith flinched when Lance burst out laughing.

"Got to admit, I'm a fantastic actor," Lance grinned smugly. Keith rolled his eyes.

"Maybe if you were on a telenovela," Keith crossed his arms. Lance pushed Keith.

"I'll have you know that I was the best actor in my theater production class!"

Keith almost fell over laughing, his hands holding onto his knees to stabilize him from falling over. "You're a thespian?!"

"Is it really that surprising?" Lance smirked.

Lance crossed his arms and pursed his lips. Keith quieted and grinned at Lance. Lance tried his best to ignore the smile, but his heart betrayed him. His face relaxed. His eyes softly stared into Keith's. His heartbeat quickened. Lance's hands moved without him completely registering it. He pointed at himself, then Keith and crossed his hands over his chest. The movement so quick Keith almost didn't see it.

"What?" Keith blushed.

"I called us a couple of idiots," Lance said quickly. He smirked. Keith squinted at Lance and turned his head.

"Well," Keith sighed and relaxed. "You're right about that." Keith stood up. "I should get going. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

Keith patted Lance's leg. Lance nodded. "Thanks for," Lance looked down at his hands then back at Keith, "well, all this. You're a good friend. And a pretty okay team leader."