A/N: As you may have guessed, I don't own Voltron. This drabble was written in first person, but changed to 3rd person to fit possible future chapters. I hope you enjoy, and if you do, give it a reaction, it makes my day :)
Keith has the strangest dream.
He is in a field of tall, green grass; warm in the evening sun. The grass is wet, and the air smells like rain.
There is a boy in the field, olive skinned with messy brown hair and eyes bluer than cornflowers, bluer than the bluest skies, wearing a melancholic smile.
He doesn't know who this boy is. But in the dream, he does.
The boy sits on the grass, his faraway gaze towards the sun. Keith walks to him, his heart in his throat, his insides twisting with fear, with sorrow, with… Love.
In his dream, he loves that boy so much, he can feel it not only in his chest, but in every hitched breath he takes, in every step that carries him closer, on his fingertips when he reaches out. The boy turns his gaze to him, the tear rolling down his cheek glinting in the sun.
Keith cannot bear it.
"Lance," he chokes out, unshed tears of his own stinging his eyes. "Lance…"
The boy, Lance, stands up, moves close to him and caresses his face, so light as if he is afraid Keith would break. Maybe he would.
Lance embraces him, hiding his face in the crook of Keith's neck. His skin is warm against Keith's, and his tears are cold. Keith holds him tight, or holds onto him, he doesn't know. He only knows that he will fall if he lets go, he will drown, he will break, he will be lost and incomplete.
"Keith," Lance whispers, his breath fanning Keith's neck. Keith's name on his lips sounds like a hidden prayer, wistful, sacred, cherished.
He moves his hands from Keith's waist to the sides of his shoulders, and lifts his head to look at him.
Keith can feel the void in his chest, the dread in his bones. He knows what Lance will say. They have done this before.
"You have to stop this," Lance says. "You have to stop coming here."
Keith looks down, squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. "I can't," he says. "Don't ask me to do that. This is all I have left." Of us. Of you.
Lance cups his face with both hands. Every little touch sparks a cell into life, makes him feel alive, hyperaware and vulnerable.
He leans in and kisses the side of his mouth, leaving Keith craving for more.
"Forget me," he says softly. "You have to forget me."
Despair runs through Keith's veins, tainted by anger with each heartbeat. It is so familiar, as if he has been angry with this boy many, many times. In his dream, he already knows he had.
He lets the fury take over. How can Lance even ask him that? How, after everything?
He grips Lance's hands, making him wince, making himself wince in return but he doesn't loosen his hold.
"Never," he hisses. "Never, you hear me?" His voice breaks at the last words with a sob, rage abandoning him as fast as it came, leaving only the desperate heartache behind.
He tries to breathe in, but he can't. He lets go of Lance's hands, and clutches his shirt, doubling over as he wheezes. Lance reaches out, concern and agony in his eyes. Keith takes a step back, lets himself drop on the ground and starts sobbing.
He hears the rustle of the grass between his sobs as Lance sits down next to him.
"I am sorry," Lance says. "I am so sorry. But Keith, you gotta let me go."
"No," Keith says stubbornly. Lance laughs at that. God, he has missed that sound so much. How could he ever forget?
"You are the only one left," Lance says, his voice bittersweet. "Keith, if you keep doing this, how can I be at peace?"
"How can I?" Keith snaps. Lance, the boy who constantly tried to be the center of attention, tried to be seen, noticed, acknowledged by any means necessary; asking to be forgotten as if he had never existed.
As if they had never fought with each other, and side by side against their enemies. As if they had never become friends, tentatively; as if they had never grown even closer. As if Keiths's lips never had found his under the stars one night, after he just couldn't take anymore. As if he had never tasted the salt on Lance's skin, as if they had never came undone in each other's arms.
Lance is asking him to forget, as if they had never loved each other with all that they had.
How can Keith just forget?
Lance moves behind him, pulling Keith's back to his chest. He clasps his hands around his stomach and perches his chin on his shoulder. The ground is cold and Keith's clothes are getting damp, but the smell of earth and trampled grass and Lance is so heady, he cannot move.
"Look up," Lance says. He does. The sun is sinking in a sky of pink, red and fiery orange. His tears have stopped. He turns around and kisses Lance. It is so soft, and so slow, because he doesn't want it to end. He wants time to stop, so he can stay there, in that moment, forever. No matter what Lance says, he will keep coming back. He will never let go.
Lance's hands are in his hair as he kisses Keith back and he lets out a chuckle against his mouth.
"Mullet," he whispers. "Wake up."
Keith wakes up with dried tears on his face, and a stabbing ache in his heart, clutching a blue crystal.
Lance.
He tries to hold on to the dream, to remember, but it is already fading, until it is gone and he is left with the void in his heart.
The light is blinding. Lance tries to move forward, but the pressure is like a strong wind and he can barely make an inch to the well of light in the center of the room, endless, overflowing, ever-changing.
He can feel Red growing restless with every step he manages to take. It's alright, he tries to soothe her, or himself. He can hear the muffled screams of his team and the roars of the lions behind the curtain of light.
Suddenly the witch appears in front of him, an illusion, yet too realistic. Her yellow eyes glow as she lets out a crazed cackle.
"What do you think you can accomplish?" she snarls. "I will devour all! I win!"
"No," Lance finds himself saying. His voice rings foreign in his ears, almost mechanical. "We will stop you. We know how."
The witch's smile falters.
"You," she hisses, "You can't do anything on your own. You are cursed, divided, trapped! You penance is not over, beast!"
It is clear Haggar is not talking to him anymore, but at the same time she is. Lance hears his voice responding.
"You know nothing, druid," he says. "Your knowledge of us is still lacking. You shall never find what you seek."
The illusion of Haggar wavers. "You may know what it takes," she says. "Does he?"
Lance knows she is talking about him. He feels a chill to his bones. He turns around and looks at the vague shapes behind the invisible wall that separates them.
His mind is suddenly flooded with images. Haggar, absorbing quintessence from worlds, leaving them empty, lifeless husks in her wake. Images of chaos and the fight for survival. Images of people turning against each other in their suffering, civilizations destroying themselves long before the witch does it for them.
And then… Image of himself walking to the well of light. No more suffering, no more chaos. Because they never come to pass. Because Lance stops it, right there, right then. There is only peace.
The witch moves in front of the well of light, trying to shield it with her non-corporeal body.
"You will vanish," she says. "You will be shred apart!" The illusion comes closer. The yellow eyes search inside Lance's soul, and find what they are looking for. The witch grins. "You will be erased from existence," she sings.
"You will be forgotten."
Lance closes his eyes. He hears the paladins calling his name. One voice, louder than the others.
Keith.
The lions whine and whimper in his mind. They know what they ask of him. So does Lance.
"But they will live," Lance says.
The witch's eyes widen as she bares her teeth like a cornered beast. Lance moves towards the light.
He can hear them clearly now, his team. They know what Lance is about to do. They beg him not to do it. Lance hears Pidge's quivering voice as she pleads, and Hunk's sob. He hears Allura begging to take his place. He feels Shiro's guilt and helplessness as he punches the curtain of light over and over, and Coran's sorrow and acceptance. And he hears Keith. Furious and desperate, his screams break Lance's heart into pieces.
Lance remembers that night, side by side, watching the stars.
"We can wish all we want, but our hearts don't really leave us a choice in the matter do they?" Lance had said. "After all, who wouldn't want to fall for someone who is convenient? It would be so easy… But I guess it isn't supposed to be easy. Someone who has the power to tear your soul apart and bring it back together can't be easy, but maybe it shouldn't be anything less than that."
And Keith had looked him in the eyes, charged with a mess of emotions, sending shivers up and down his spine. When Keith kissed him, Lance had understood nothing about this would ever be easy, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
But now, Lance is about to undo it all. A world without him sounds much better than a him without Keith.
They will live.
Lance wipes his tears and stands tall. The lions' thoughts flow into his mind; grieving, but proud. Lance sends one last thought their way to deliver, the most cliché, the most precious.
I love you.
He walks into the light.
