Voltron: Lost Memories

Chapter 1:

"Open the eyes"

Everyting was dark. I wasn't able to see, but could still listen. Shooting. I heard echoes of voices. I didn't know what they were saying, but it was clear that something was happening, and I couldn't do anything…

I opened my eyes, but I only saw shapes and distorted figures. It seemed that time was stopping, because those figures were moving very slowly.

Then I heard voices again. No. One voice. Or actually the echo of a voice. It was close, but where? I couldn't see. I didn't know where it was coming from.

I knew I was lying on a bed. I felt the surface soft. I tried to move, but I felt an intense pain that forced me to stay still again. And that voice was still there. Each time it became clearer, but I still did not understand what he was saying. Because I knew he was talking to me.

I was so tired. And I didn't know why, I just was. My body hurted. I remember closing my eyes and then the voice became clear. He was telling my name. Or I think so, because every time he said my name I forgot it.

It seemed he was desperate. Scared. Yes, because it was the voice of a man, but who? Who was he? When I closed my eyes, and finally understood what the voice was saying, I could feel a hand holding mine tightly. That feeling was... for some reason I felt safe. Still not knowing where I was or what was happening. That hand…

The voice was still calling me, so I forced myself to open the eyes. I still saw blur, and everything seemed to be covered in white light. «Am I dead?» I thought. No. I knew that I was alive. The pain and fatigue were proof of that. But then, why?

The voice said my name again, and this time I turned. I still didn't recognize any form. But what I do recognized was the color blue. I'd never seen that blue. It was beautiful, why did I think it was beautiful? I was just a color after all.

But, why did I see blue? How could I see blue? I tried to concentrate, and discovered there were two blue circles in front of me. I was so confused… and so tired… but that voice was still calling me. I still felt our clasped hands.

Tiredness was killing me. Little by little I closed my eyes. The last thing I remember hearing was my name. And the last thing I remember seeying was those blue eyes.

I don't know why… but those were now my favorite color.

…

…

…

I don't know how long I was asleep. Because I know I was sleeping. At least that's how I felt it. It wasn't really a nap. Sometimes my mind would wake up, but my body refused to open the eyes. I tried to move, to say a word, but my body just didn't agree.

But every time I woke up, so to speak, every time I moaned and tried to move I could feel his hand again. And I heard that voice again. He told me, "Easy. Easy. I'm here. I'm here." It's what he always said.

I don't know who this stranger was. Because I knew he was a man. His voice was extremely familiar, but I didn't recognize it. But it didn't matter, because when I listened to him, a part of me calmed down. I felt safe. And then I went back to sleep. Holding his hand tightly.

This happened several times, although I don't know how many. I only know that every time my mind woke up I recovered strength. Although not as fast as I would've liked. I began to believe that I was in an endless nightmare. A dream inside a dream, inside a dream... But that hand and that voice were always there, and they made me feel calm. It felt real. Although when you dream everything feels real.

The last time my mind awoke, I didn't let myself be overcome by fatigue. I gathered all my strength and tried to move my arms. My hands. But I still couldn't do it. He was still there, and he would not leave me alone. He kept talking to me and kept holding my hand.

Why it didn't bother me? I hated the contact... Not because I didn't like it, but because I had never been good at showing affection. I didn't know how to do it That's why I avoided it. But here, in this perpetual dream, that he held my hand was what comforted me. So, when I felt his skin again, I held him as strong as I could and forced myself to open my eyes.

The white light had lost intensity, but I still had trouble focusing. At least now I identified the ceiling, the light and the walls of my room. If it was my room. I didn't give importance. What I wanted was to see this person. I wanted to know who he was.

When I turned the head he was there. The first thing I saw were those beautiful eyes. His brown skin. And his brown hair. I knew he was familiar to me. I had seen him before. I had to remember him.

"Hey mullet."

The tone of his voice. His smile. Damn it, I knew him! I couldn't remember his name!

"No, no! Do not do that. It's okay."

In my desperate attempt to speak, to want to know who he was, I began to complain and forced my body to get up. That hurt, I admit, but I didn't want to sleep anymore, I wanted to finally wake up. But my body didn't have the strength to do what I asked. Then he ran his hand through my hair. The way he stroked me was also too familiar.

"You'll be fine... I'll take care of you."

When I saw him cry, I was frozen. When I saw him suffer, my heart began to beat very hard. I had no idea who this person was, but I knew I didn't want to see him suffer. All I could do was press his hand. And without wanting to, I fell asleep again.

…

…

…

…

I opened my eyes one more time. The blur was almost gone, and I finally noticed that I wasn't in my room. I didn't have idea of where I was. To my left there was a window. It was night, and I could only see the dark sky.

Then I felt movement beside me. In the same bed I was lying on. It was him. He was still by my side. He was sitting in a chair, but he had leant his head on my bed. He slept peacefully, but he looked tired... and I don't know why, but I wondered if it was my fault. I still didn't know what was happening, but being there with him... with... with... L-

His name came to my mind. But the effort to remember his name took away all my strength, and the dream took hold of me again. I wasn't going to sleep again, no...

My movements woke him up. He looked worried.

"Keith! What is it? What happen?"

"...Ke-Keith…"

How is it possible that I hadn't thought of my own name? Maybe I didn't worry. It was not my name I wanted to know. It was his. And I already knew it.

"…L-La…"

"Keith?"

There was an expression on his face that I didn't recognize. Fear. Hope. Maybe both.

".. La-Laaaa-"

«Damn it! Speak!»

"…Lance."

He smiled at me. And again he cried.

"Yes," He said between sobs. "Yes! I'm Lance."

"Lance." My throat was scratchy. My voice was barely a whisper, but he could hear it.

"Lance… Lance… Lance."

I said it, and I said it. At last I had remembered it. I knew who he was.

Lance.

Lance.

Lance…

Just as he took my hand again, I fell into a deep sleep.