She held the device in rough, lifeless hands.
It was all that was left, they had explained, and they thought she should have it. She hadn't even been able to show her disgust at that. Three years she'd been fighting for answers. Three years of hell. Of not knowing. And in all that time, all the court hearings and the media interviews and the public backlash. All of it. Not once had they shown a semblance of any real remorse.
It had taken a castle falling from the sky, a princess and her paladins, and a potential interstellar diplomatic fallout for them to agree to give her answers. And now she was about to get them.
Only she wasn't so sure she wanted them anymore.
She looked down at the device again, a small box made of metal in the palm of her hands. It weighed as much as the world. The red haired alien had explained it held a message and how to start it. Had given her a look of such unguarded empathy that she'd had to look away. That look couldn't mean anything good.
He'd lingered, and she pretended not to see him, hoping he'd leave, because she was not going to cry in front of this stranger. Not after surviving three years in the public eye without doing so.
Instead of leaving, he said, "Mrs. McClain...your son, he...this will not be easy, I'm sure. Please know that he has our unwavering respect and gratitude. And if there's anything-"
"Please," Mrs. McClain said, trying not to sound like her whole world was a wind-buffeted tight rope hanging between two sky scrapers, "I need a moment alone."
The red haired alien bowed his head, "Certainly, ma'am. I'll be outside."
She waited a full three seconds after the door shut behind her before her legs could no longer support her weight anymore. She fell to her knees with bruising force, but she barely registered the feeling. Her vision had blackened at the edges and all she could see with any clarity was the small metal box in the palm of her hands.
It was like she had thick rubber gloves on over her fingers. She missed the hidden mechanism several times before her fumbling hands managed to hold still long enough to activate the tiny apparatus. Instantly the entire room around her was super imposed with an image of a large, metal-walled room that looked for all the world like a deck on a massive space warship. That wasn't what held her attention, though.
Sitting on the edge of a chair with a crooked half smile on his face was her son.
"Oh-" Mrs. McClain let out a choked sob, stumbling forward on her knees to hold her boy in her arms again. Only instead of the warm, solid form of her son, her arms gripped nothing but empty air. With nothing to catch her, Mrs. McClain fell forward to her hands and knees on the hard tile.
"Oh shit! Is it recording?" came the sudden but unmistakable voice of her son from everywhere in the room at once.
Mrs. McClain jumped back in surprise, looking up open-mouthed at Lance, who now had a startled look on his own face.
"Shit!" He said, his face growing worried, then coloring, "I mean, uh, crap. You can edit that out, right?"
There was a short pause, and Lance's eyebrows rose and he folded his arms as if reacting to something someone said that wasn't audible. "You're telling me you guys can travel faster than light but you can't cut some stupid holo vid?"
Lance rolled his eyes after another pause, "Pidge, no one likes a smartass. Come on, seriously. This is a video for my mom. Oh, shi-crap! She's gonna kill me when she sees this"
Something caught in Mrs. McClain's throat and her breath hitched.
"Can you, you know, add the bleeps or voice over or something for that first part?" another beat, "Seriously?" Lance let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine. Whatever. You guys get to deal with her when she unleashes her wrath, though...And it's a good thing I look great in any lighting. At least I know who to thank for my good looks." Lance said, then he winked, and it was like he winked directly at her.
Mrs. McClain swallowed the sob that welled up in her throat, and the tears that threatened to spill since the moment she'd been handed the box stung her eyes, "Lance..." she croaked, looking at the image of her son, "Buttering me-" she gasped through unsteady breaths, "Buttering me up isn't going to get you out of this one..."
"So, um," Lance paused, oblivious, giving that same crooked smile that told her he was anxious about something but trying to hide it, "Surprise, mom! I ended up joining a group of intergalactic space knights who go around saving the universe, you know, pretty much what you were expecting from you bravest and best looking kid - shut up, Keith - sorry, mom.
"Tell Sofia she owes me twenty bucks when I get back, by the way. Can you believe she didn't think her awesome older brother was gonna make it as a fighter pilot? I think I showed her." Lance struck an obnoxiously proud pose that was so Lance that it sent a wrench of pain searing through Mrs. McClain's chest. "And tell Maxy" Oh, her Maximiliano hated that nickname, and she knew from experience and by Lance's sly look that he knew it, "That he can borrow my motorcycle. I have a much cooler ride, now," Lance seemed to think better of this, and he amended with a scowl, "But if he wrecks it, I will find him and I will kick his little punk a-er, I'll be very mad." Lance turned his scowl away for a moment at something over Mrs. McClain's shoulder.
"Shut, up, Keith.
"Anyway, please let Liliana know I met a real life princess, but she's still the prettiest princess in the galaxy." Mrs. McClain let out a mangled huff of laughter, followed by another lance of pain in her chest. Liliana, her second youngest daughter, had always been enamored with her older brother, and would follow him everywhere he went. Lance, instead of becoming annoyed at his little sister for cramping his style, as his mom might've expected, seemed to take it in stride, and treated her like royalty.
She'd been the most supportive of her mother's efforts to find her missing brother. She'd called the Garrison every day to ask for news when Lance's letters had stopped coming. She'd been the first one to suggest to her mom that they try to report this to a higher authority. She'd cried when her older brother left for the Galaxy Garrison.
This was going to destroy her.
Lance looked up, listening to someone who was inaudible again. "Well, apparently there's a time limit on this thing. That's Altean technology for you," Lance rolled his eyes, and dodged something that looked like a shoe "So, um...well. Mom."
Lance heaved a deep sigh, and suddenly, all pretense was gone, and she saw what she knew had been lurking under his smile since the beginning. His shoulder's slumped, and his eyes shone with what she knew to be tears. Swallowing, Lance said, "If you get this, it means-" he paused, then took a deep, shuddering breath as if to gather himself, "...It means things didn't go as well as we hoped. And I didn't make it..."
Lance's next words were swallowed by a deafening roar in his mom's ears that blotted out all other sound. It was as though a great chasm had opened up beneath her, and there was a twisting sensation in her gut like she'd slipped and was in a free-fall over the edge. What she'd suspected - known, really - had just been confirmed by her son's own words.
"...don't worry, okay? I'm happy. I have no regrets. I have another family up here, and they're just as annoying, but they take care of me like you would. So don't worry about that. Tell everyone...tell them I miss them, please? And that I love them...like a really fucking lot. And I don't care if you get mad at me for that. And...
"And, mom?"
Mrs. McClain finally looked up at the half-desperate tone in her son's voice to see him looking straight down at her, a pleading look on his face.
"I know this is going to be really hard for you. I mean," Lance let out a bitter chuckle and sniffed in what he'd describe as an 'unmanly' manner, "I know I'm your favorite. And Liliana, Sofia, Max, Julio, Esperanza - everyone depends on you. And I know you're gonna put on your tough guy act like you did when I was getting ready to leave and act like nothing's wrong.
"But it's okay. You don't have to be strong for everyone all the time, okay? What was it you always say? 'It's-'" Lance's voice broke, "'It's okay to cry.'" Lance looked up at something behind his mom, "I'm sorry, mom. There's so much more I wish I could tell you, but...there's just not enough time. I love y-" Suddenly the superimposed image dissipated and Mrs. McClain was left alone in the room again.
There was a moment of fragile silence, then she felt something burst in her chest, her ribs thrown open like a gate, and she was shaking uncontrollably.
"You stupid, stupid boy!" Mrs. McClain sobbed, hugging herself so tight her rib cage creaked. "What did you do? What did you do?"
She couldn't breathe, and every tear she'd held back for the past three years was rushing to escape her, streaming down her face and landing on the pristine tile floor. "What did you do? What did you do?" was all she could sob, over and over, until she no longer knew what she was saying.
She had no no idea how long she stayed like this, curled in upon herself, inconsolable, rocking back and forth. It could've been hours, days, weeks, and it wouldn't have felt different for her suffering. But it was only after she'd been reduced to wretched dry heaves that she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.
She looked up, startled to see the red haired alien, Coran, she finally remembered his name. His face was drawn with concern and that same understanding, and he bent down to sit next to her without an invitation.
Mrs. McClain tried to take in a steadying breath, but it ended up a stuttering hiccup instead. "My son..." she said in a mangled whisper, "He's dead." And she had thought she'd cried every last tear she had in her, but the soft declaration brought on a whole new wave to her eyes.
She didn't even protest when Coran reached over and pulled her into a tight embrace, his own body shaking with silent weeping. They stayed like that for another indeterminable amount of time, two grieving family members - because that's what her son had called him - clinging to each other for dear life.
Finally, she pulled away, and they both sat staring ahead in silence. Both probably thinking about what they were going to do without this new missing piece of their lives.
"It's not easy, losing a child." Coran said simply, after a moment, his eyes unfocused at some remembered past. And she saw the lines of his own pain written on his face, and she knew he spoke from experience. "I wish I could tell you it gets less painful after awhile," he said, turning to meet her eyes finally. "It doesn't. But you get used to it, and eventually...you even find ways to be happy."
"That doesn't seem possible," Mrs. McClain said, bleak thoughts of the rest of her life without her son sending shudders through her.
"No," Coran agreed, "But it is. Your son was one way I found to be happy, Mrs. McClain."
She felt her throat, already raw, tighten even further. "You were close to him, then?"
Coran laughed derisively, "Hard not to be. Lance has-" Coran grimaced, "Had a way of getting under your skin without you noticing until one day, you realize you're actually really fond of the little troublemaker."
And, despite everything, Mrs. McClain found her self laughing through her tears. "That does sound like my Lance."
"He talked about you and the rest of your family a lot," Coran said, "I feel like I already know you, to a certain extent."
"Oh, Lance..."
"I meant what I said before, Mrs. McClain-"
"Linda, please. I mean, since you already know me, and all," Lance's mom offered a wane smile.
"Linda." Coran amended with his own sad smile, "We owe your son our lives. He saved us all."
"That sounds like my Lance, too," Mrs. McClain said bitterly, unable to find any solace when it meant her son was dead. "Was he...was he really happy? Like he said in his message?"
"I can't speak for him, but it seemed like he was."
"Did he love you as much as you loved him?" she asked, because it was clear to her by now that Coran had loved her son as though he were his own.
Coran didn't even pause to consider, "Yes. We all loved him and he loved all of us. We were a family."
Linda looked down, thinking, then said somberly. "I think...I think that can be enough. For now." It didn't make things hurt any less. But for now, she would take comfort in the fact that her son had been with his family in death.