There were few times in Lance's life when he was truly unhappy. The first time, was when he went to spend a few weeks with his friend from Atlantis when he was ten whale migrations old. Sure, it had been fun for the first few days. But after that he began to miss his family. His misery continued to increase until, one night, he swam all the back to the warmer waters of his home. After a scolding from his mother, he was made to return the next day and apologize for his disappearance. His only solace, at the time, was that he then got to go home and be happy again.

The second time, he had been forced to go on land for a week-long study trip in his humanities class. There he'd learned that all of those scary human stories from his childhood were true. He still felt ill when he thought of the humans' consumption of merfolk flesh. Who would want to eat them? Did they eat the human looking half as well? These were questions Lance wasn't sure he wanted answered.

The most recent time, was shortly after Lance's twentieth whale migration. The mer-council pulled one of his scales from the selection pool. Every merfolk over the age of twenty whale migrations (or years as he'd found out in his humanities study) was required to remove one of their scales and add them to the selection pool. The pool was used to decide who would be attending the centennial alien convention. The merfolk sent a representative to update the status of their home planet every time the convention was held.

In summary, Lance was not happy.

"I don't even get why our home planet is so important. We've been so mutated during our time on Earth that we're hardly the same species!" Lance pouted as he scrubbed his skin with the fine sand that he had traded at the gathering.

"Lance, I understand that you don't want to go." His mother began before she was interrupted by his youngest brother.

"I don't! You're so lucky that you get to leave this place for a while."

Lance rolled his eyes before he focused his attention on scrubbing his arms and torso. The gills on his neck flared and a large stream of bubbles escaped as he huffed in exasperation.

His mother shooed her youngest son away before she approached her eldest. She placed a gentle, yet firm, hand on his cheek. When he turned his face towards her reluctantly, she gave him a goofy smile that was full of sharp, serrated teeth.

Lance returned the gesture before they laughed together. Lance leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his mother's torso. For a moment, he let his weakness show as he pitifully whispered, "Don't make me go."

He felt his mother's clawed hand rest on his back to comfort him and he tightened his hold.

"What are you, an octopus? Let go before you damage my organs." His mother ordered playfully.

He held on for a moment longer before he let go and rubbed the back of his head. His short, brown hair slid through his fingers. He apologized sheepishly.

"Lance… I think this will be good for you. You haven't spent longer than a week away from your school in your entire life. And don't think I can't see the girls you chase after. It's like you have a knack for finding one who isn't the slightest bit interested in you."

"But I-" his mother held up her hand to stop him.

"I want you to be happy, more than anything. If you want to spend your entire life with us while your younger siblings all grow up and move off to find life partners, so be it." Lance lowered his gaze to the sea floor as his mother continued. "But can you at least try and use this as an opportunity to see what lies beyond this school and realize there's more out there?"

Lance nodded solemnly and mumbled his reply.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you?", his mother chided playfully.

Lance smiled crookedly as he gave a short laugh, "I said fine."

Lance had prepared for his journey thoroughly. He had all the essentials: his supply of fine sands for exfoliating his skin, his kelp oils that moisturized his skin overnight, his coral rollers that kept his hair from floating into his face at night (he'd gotten them for his eighteenth whale migration), and a set of swim trunks that he would change into when he got close to land.

His school bid him farewell, after his nineteen siblings bid him goodbye with words of encouragement (or words of caution from the ones who'd recently studied humanities), he bid his parents goodbye. His father gave him a set of small white pebbles in an orange prescription bottle that had been collected from a garbage dump site by traders. They were to be used to help prevent the transformation that would occur if he submerged his body in water.

Lance thanked him with a fierce hug. His father patted his back and tightened his hold before he released his captive.

His mother swam up to him last, "Remember, Lance." She instructed. Lance nodded before his mother gathered him up in her arms. "Be safe." She whispered.

"I will."

They held each other for a moment longer before his mother pulled away.

Lance swam past his school as they gathered at the entrance of their kelp bed. "I'll miss you guys!" he called with a wave.

"Sure you will." He heard one of his younger siblings say before they cried out in pain.

His slightly younger than him sister's, "We'll miss you too!" was interlaced with the younger sibling's question of, "What'd you hit me for?"

Lance chuckled merrily as he swam further away.

This was it. He'd been swimming for a few days now. He'd traveled along the coast to reach the appropriate shore closest to the convention's location to minimize his contact with humans. With a sigh of bubbles from his gills, Lance ingested one of the pebbles. He felt his tail split into two for the first time since he was sixteen, it was just as unpleasant a sensation as before.

He kicked around his new limbs for a moment as he learned to control his separate "tails". When he'd righted himself, he pulled on the swim trunks he'd brought with him and agonizingly slowly made his way to shore.

When he was in shallow enough water, he began to use his hands to go further since kicking his new legs would result in his feet smacking painfully on the shell covered sand close to shore.

"How do humans do this?" he complained as he felt the muscles of his legs pulse from the effort of swimming.

He pulled himself on land and admired the night sky. As a member of the merfolk, he had no reason to venture close enough to the surface of the ocean to see the sky. There were only a few lights visible, they could have been stars or those satellites the humans seemed so fond of. There was an almost film of yellow over the black of the night sky.

It was nice. Different from the view he typically received living so deep in the ocean that no human could ever reach them. The heat from the magma that would bubble from under the earth's crust kept the water a nice, warm temperature.

The wind was an unfamiliar concept, as well, and was decidedly not a nice, warm temperature.

After he'd first exited the water, his body systems switched functions so that he could breathe through his nose and mouth, but his gills were still quite visible. Lance rested there shivering in his swim trunks before he began to pull himself up. He was a bit shaky on his legs and, after a few minutes, he was dry enough that his gills sealed shut enough to become invisible.

He took a few experimental steps and was grateful that there were no humans around. He stumbled for a few minutes trying to get his bearings before he heard a voice call out to him.

"You all right down there?"

Lance looked up in a panic to watch as a large man with dark skin and black hair jogged over to him. The stranger's yellow color scheme did nothing to quell Lance's uneasiness.

"I-" Lance coughed, "I'm fine! You don't need to worry!"

The stranger slowed and approached more carefully. "Are you drunk?"

Drunk? Lance wasn't too sure what that had to do with anything. "No?"

"Is that a question?"

"Look, I said I was fine. Now, leave me alone." Lance snapped as he edged further away from the human.

The man watched his unease before, "You a mermaid?"

Lance felt his body break out into a cold sweat. "What?" his voice cracked.

"Oh! No no no. It's okay!" The stranger took a step back, "You must be here for the convention." He decided before he held out a hand. "Name's Hunk! Secret love-child of the Hawaiian god, Lono and human woman, Kaikilani." He finished with a flourish, something dark passed over his face at the mention of his parents, before his cheery demeanor returned with full force.

It's okay. Lance reassured himself as he reached out with his clawed hand and accepted Hunk's massive one. When he pulled his hand back he asked solemnly, "You've never partaken of the flesh of my kin, have you?"

"Why would I do that? I haven't aged a day since my eighteenth birthday!" Hunk replied good-naturedly with his arms spread wide for emphasis.

"And just how old are you?"

Hunk shrugged, "I stopped counting a long time ago." He looked up in thought, "I was born in the late sixteenth century… so." He stretched the word and left his sentence hanging there.

Realizing that Hunk was finished speaking, Lance breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you need some help? Getting to the convention's hotel?" Hunk clarified.

Lance waved him off, "No, no. It's better if I do it myself." He continued to stumble around the beach before he was able to manage confident strides. Hunk watched him the entire time and, unbeknownst to Lance, was being reminded of a young child taking their first steps and feeling a wave of protectiveness.

"All right. I think I'm ready." Lance announced. The two made their way to the large building.

During the merfolk's humanities course, their stay on land is always held at the hotel the convention takes place at. The land is always owned by a "supernatural" creature in order to prevent any confusion. The merfolk weren't the only ones who isolated themselves from humans, and to change the convention's location would almost ensure the secret of their existence being exposed.

Lance entered and admired the lobby's décor. It was similar to his last visit, but it had been modernized during his time away to keep up with the rapidly evolving humans.

They approached the front desk and watched as the receptionist's yellow eyes peered from over the frames of her sunglasses. She took a whiff of the air before she smiled politely.

"You must be the merpeople's representative. You'll be staying in room 515, enjoy your stay!" she said chipperly as she gave him the key to his room. Hunk's process was a bit more involved and required an ID check before he was allowed into his room, 510.

They thanked her before they made their way to the elevator, at Hunk's insistence that Lance not attempt the stairs.

When the doors shut, with just the two of them in the elevator, Hunk turned to Lance. "She must have been a full-blooded Galra." He began. "Her eyes were totally yellow."

"Galra?" Lance asked.

"You know, the-well I guess you wouldn't know, huh?" Hunk rambled, "Well, you see, the Galra have pretty much overrun the population and everywhere they settle has resulted in various subspecies. The ones here on earth are called "werewolves" by the humans. Though, I suppose werecat would be more accurate." He laughed to himself.

Lance, who was being bombarded with all of this information, struggled with everything being presented to him. Galra? Werewolves…cats?

Before he could decide on any particular question the elevator arrived at the fifth floor.

When the doors slid open, Hunk exited and turned left with a quiet farewell and a promise to see him later. Lance stepped off of the elevator more cautiously and looked at the doors. To his left the door numbers read 505 and on his right the door numbers were 506. He turned right and followed the narrow hallway watching as the numbers on the doors increased.

He was so focused on the numbers, that he was startled when someone brushed by him at room 512.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled as he recoiled. He knew that there were no others of his kind and had panicked that a human had touched him.

He glared accusingly at the invader and found a young man with pale skin, dark hair that was short up front and long in the back, and dark eyes that were wide with surprise. Those same eyes quickly narrowed as the man sneered and sniffed the air. He paused before he inhaled deeply through his nose before he caught himself.

The man returned Lance's glare before he left with a muttered, "Whatever." He walked a few doors down before he entered the room just a little further down.

There's. No. Way. Lance thought in disbelief as he followed where the other man had left. He passed by the stranger's room door and found the numbers read 514.

Well, shit.

Room 515 was just as nice as the other room he'd stayed at here years ago. The couch and coffee table with a television on a stand were almost identical. There was a sliding glass door that led to a screened in balcony. To the left of the entryway, there was a small kitchen complete with refrigerator, microwave, and sink, and Lance knew that if he pulled the handle of the cabinet at the end, there'd be a garbage disposal tucked away. The bedroom was in a separate room and the queen-sized bed was visible along with the standard nightstand and lamp.

Still fuming over his last encounter and the fact that the perpetrator was in the room next to his, Lance dug into the pockets of his swim trunks and pulled out the pill bottle. He set it on the counter closest to him before he entered the bedroom and found the bathroom.

Luckily, the hotel owners had the foresight to install automatically locking doors, for their clients that didn't understand the need for locked doors, or else they might receive an unwelcome visitor in the middle of the night.

Lance gladly pulled his beauty products out of his pockets and set them on the bathroom counter. There was a shower that was also a bath, a 3-piece counter with a sink in the middle under a large mirror, a dirty linen basket, and a toilet.

When he closed the door, there was a fluffy white robe hanging on the back of it. He messed with the shower and managed to turn it on eventually. He shed his trunks before he stepped under the water and was immobilized from the extreme temperature difference. The shower was icy cold as he began to scrub his body. The sand that was already there from his arrival allowed him to preserve his fine sand supply. As the sand from his body disappeared down the drain, the water began to warm up, or he'd grown accustomed to it. It wasn't until Lance was almost done rinsing his hair that he realized it was the former, as the water reached a scalding hot temperature that reminded him of when he would swim too close to the magma.

As he hissed in pain, he hurriedly finished his hair before he turned off the shower's water. The hotel apparently did not want people wasting water. Lance thought to himself as he covered his reddened tan skin with the fluffy robe.

He used his kelp oil on his face before he rolled his hair in the coral rollers. The process was made more difficult when his hair wasn't floating freely and was weighed down by gravity and lingering water.

With a yawn, Lance crawled on the bed. He determinedly didn't think about his family and was left with his thoughts on the three people he'd met tonight.

That Galra lady seemed nice, and that guy Hunk is okay too. But, man! That other guy was a complete asshole. And his hair was ridiculous! Lance still couldn't believe that he was only one room away from him.

Keith couldn't believe he was only one room away from him.

After he'd entered his room, he'd leaned against his door and listened to the half-naked boy as he walked right by his door and entered into the room next to his. As he passed by, Keith got another taste of the delicious smell the other man had.

Keith couldn't place his finger on it, but he thought he knew what that smell was. He cursed his Galra lineage that he was so affected by this other person's smell that he'd had to back down from their confrontation before he took a bite out of the stranger.

The man held his face in his hands as he went over their encounter in the hall again. Why had he given into his baser instincts and smelled the stranger in order to identify what they were? Keith knew the answer, he'd always struggled with control over his emotions and today was just a kick in the nose for his fault.

He listened as the other moved about his room, unwillingly. He was being such a creep right now! He knew and was powerless to stop himself as he heard the faint sound of the shower turning on.

He sighed with relief as he willed himself to move away from his position in front of the door. He tried to breathe through his mouth, but that only enhanced the smell and allowed him to taste it now. He snapped his mouth shut and groaned as he went into his room and bundled himself in his blankets to block out the smell and sounds.

Luckily, his other neighbor was snoring away in the next room and helped make it hard to concentrate on the sounds from the delicious-smelling stranger's room. Keith was confrontational and aggressive, but he wasn't a bad guy. He didn't want to end up being consumed by his more animal side and attacking the other.

As it became stuffy under his blankets he debated on leaving or calling his only friend to keep him company. After a few minutes, he heard the shower turn off and the other flop onto their bed.

He knew the next few hours were going to be long and painful.

The next morning, Lance stretched his body languidly before he left the soft cushion of his bed and went to the bathroom. He relieved himself, as he'd learned on his humanities trip, before he washed his hands using the weird smelling soap that was next to the sink, because of germs. He washed his face again before he reached up and sleepily removed his coral rollers from his hair. Feeling more awake, Lance assessed his appearance in the mirror to make sure his gills were hidden.

He panicked when he saw his hair wasn't straight like it was normally. He ran his hand through his hair and it got snagged on the many curls. He ran out to ask his mom what to do, or someone, but there was no one here with him. There was Hunk, but he didn't know how to get in touch with him other than to go to his room. What was the number?

Cursing his inattentiveness, Lance sat down heavily on his bed with a sigh. He heard the rude man from last night's door get knocked on before there was muffled conversation. It sounded like an argument for a minute before it quieted down to the point where Lance wasn't even sure if they were still speaking.

He looked down at his robe before he sighed and went for his trunks. He would have to go down to the gift shop now that it was open, in order for him to get something warmer to wear.

He shuffled over to the counter and grabbed the pill bottle before he ingested another stone. He could feel it as it slid all the way down and felt like it lodged in his throat.

With a steadying breath, Lance opened the door of his room and trotted to the elevator. He pressed the button and waited for it to arrive before he entered the empty elevator and hit the button for the first floor.

He found the large windows of the gift shop full of all manner of strange souvenirs and gravitated towards them. He approached the counter and asked if he could have a set of clothes.

The sale's clerk looked down his nose at Lance. "If you have the money."

"Money? Can't I just trade some manual labor for it or something?"

"Was that a joke? I'm afraid it's not very funny." The clerk sneered.

"All right. Listen here, surface-dweller, manual labor is all I have." Lance snapped.

The clerk sighed as he visibly restrained his emotions. "I am sorry sir. The only thing I can offer is a free t-shirt souvenir that will be available at the entrance of the convention. How does that sound?"

It was only a shirt but it was better than nothing. With a look of gratitude Lance accepted. He had just pulled the black cloth that read, "All Just Aliens", over his head when he heard someone call his name.

He turned and found Hunk at the gift shop's doors. He was just feeling thankful for the familiar face when he continued, "What happened to your hair?"

Filled with momentary frustration Lance waved away the question. "Doesn't matter. Do you have a hat or some way to straighten this mess?"

"Uh no, not really. I kind of just- Hey! How'd you get that shirt? The convention hasn't even started."

Lance pointed behind him at the sale's clerk, "This guy took pity on me because I have no clothes other than my trunks and no money to buy anything else."

"I thought it was strange that you didn't have any luggage. All right, pick out an outfit." Hunk ordered.

"But I don't have any money?"

"I'll cover it. We can go somewhere cheaper after this to get you some more clothes and essentials."

"Really?" Lance asked, feeling touched.

Hunk nodded with a smile and motioned Lance to shop around. The merman perused the selection and picked a blue shirt that matched his eye color and a pair of coral colored shorts with a white clamshells pattern.

"Those are for-you know what. Never mind." The sales clerk stopped himself from criticizing Lance's selection.

Lance gave his items to Hunk, who looked at his feet before adding a pair of black flipflops to the pile. The demigod placed the outfit on the counter and waited for the clerk to ring them up before he paid for the overpriced items.

He gave them to Lance and pointed out the men's restroom near the gift shop. "You can change in there. After you're done we can go to a nearby store and get some more things for you during your stay."

Continuously amazed by Hunk's generosity, Lance nodded and entered the restroom. He exchanged his current shirt for the blue one and his trunks for the shorts. It felt a little odd, and he wondered how humans could stand having their genitals constantly rubbing against everything all the time. Lance shivered at the sensation before he decided it was much better to have it protected behind the sheath of his scales.

He collected his other items and returned to Hunk. "Just let me put these back in my room and we can go." He was a little nervous about venturing into the human infested world, but was comforted by Hunk's presence.

"You can just put it in my car, if you want. Then we only have to make one trip back." He offered.

"Car?" Lance asked.

"You know. A car… they are used to-"

"I know what a car is, Hunk." Lance deadpanned. "I just find it an odd concept that you have one."

"I rented one so I could get around this place. I don't own one because on the island you really don't need one." Hunk explained.

"Ah." Lance replied in understanding.

Their shopping trip was rather uneventful. The humans ignored the two men and Lance was grateful for that fact. The most exciting thing was when Hunk asked if he had underwear.

"What do you mean, 'underwear?'" Hunk cried out in alarm. "Are you not wearing any- you know what? Never mind. Get some boxers and briefs to see which one you like."

Hunk had refused to make eye contact with him for a while after that but eventually the awkwardness passed.

Hunk had gotten him some hair products and a hair towel so that he wouldn't need his coral rollers. They returned to the hotel after an hour and Hunk reminded Lance to grab his items from his car. When they reached the fifth floor, Lance thanked Hunk for all of his help and the two went their separate ways. With two bags in each hand, Lance followed the hallway to room 515, He maneuvered his items so that he could grab the door and pushed down on the handle. Nothing happened.

"What?" Lance asked himself as much as the door before he remembered that he needed his keycard.

Laughing to himself, Lance set down his burden and reached into his pockets. Empty. Feeling a sense of dread, Lance recalled that he was wearing new shorts. Giving a weak chuckle at himself again he kneeled and searched through the bags until he found his trunks and searched their pockets… empty.

"Oh. Fuck!" his favorite of the human curse words.

This wasn't happening to him. What was he supposed to do now? Lance stayed kneeled on the ground as he clutched his curly hair and felt even angrier. He slammed his fist on the door, "Shit!"

"Are you okay?" asked a concerned voice.

Lance whipped around. There was no one there. He spun around to check if he'd misheard where the direction of the voice was coming from and found empty space as well.

"Oh. Sorry."

When Lance turned around again, there was a tall, muscular man with black hair that had a tuft of white for bangs.

"I keep forgetting myself." The stranger laughed.

"Who are you?" Lance asked, spooked.

"Shiro the friendly ghost." The man laughed at his own joke. When Lance didn't laugh and only looked confused the man muttered to himself, "He didn't get it either."

At a conversational volume Shiro continued, "Look, I heard you yelling out here, sounding worse than a sailor, and thought I'd ask what was wrong."

Lance didn't particularly trust this 'Shiro the friendly ghost', but something told him that he was a good person.

"I forgot my keycard and now I'm locked out of my room." Lance admitted.

Shiro paused before he responded, "You say this is your room?"

At Lance's nod, Shiro looked torn. "It's not that I don't believe you or anything. But I can't exactly just let you into this room unless I know it's yours. Trusting the wrong people put me in my situation in the first place and all that. Is there any way to prove this is your room?"

"Well, I had the key. But if I had that now I wouldn't need your help, now would I?"

Shiro huffed in exasperation, "Is there at least anyone who saw you go in here?"

Lance groaned before he replied, "No one." A memory flashed through his mind, "My neighbor could vouch for me! After we argued and he went into his room, he must have heard me go into this room last night."

Shiro looked at the door to room 514 in amazement, "This room right here?" After Lance's nod Shiro smiled brightly before he disappeared through the door

Now, Lance was really creeped out. A few moments later the door opened and the man from last night appeared. His eyes had bags under them and his hair and clothes were a mess as he squinted at Lance.

"Yeah, that's him. Now let me sleep¸ Shiro!" With that the door was shut and Shiro phased through the door again.

"Sorry about Keith. He didn't sleep last night and has been a grouch…well, even grouchier, all day." Shiro laughed. "Give me a second."

He phased through Lance's door and after a moment the handle pulled down and the door opened. Lunging at the opportunity, Lance used his body to prop the door open as he crouched and gathered his bags and pulled them inside.

When he was finished, he looked up at Shiro and felt an uncontrollable sense of admiration for him. "Thank you!" he cried.

With a laughed, "You're welcome." Shiro rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I guess I should get going now." He floated around Lance but before he could get out of the door the merman asked, "Not to be rude. But what exactly are you?"

"I'm a ghost." Shiro answered with a touch of sadness, ready for Lance to freak out.

"I thought this was an alien convention?"

Shiro was surprised at Lance's nonchalance as he responded, "It is."

"So…you're not an alien?"

"No." was the simple reply.

"Then why are you here?" Lance asked finally.

"I'm a friend of Keith's. I keep him company where he lives. He's been alone for so long, and yet he refuses to leave the house and meet new people. Truth is, he's only here because I threatened to cross over if he didn't."

Like me. Lance thought as he learned more about this, Keith. "Doesn't that seem a little harsh?"

"Nah. I couldn't cross over, even if I wanted to. I don't know how." Shiro confessed. "But don't let him know." He whispered conspiratorially. He only felt safe with this admission, because he was sure that Keith was asleep in the next room and wouldn't be able to overhear him.

"I won't." Lance promised.

That bastard. Keith didn't like to speak ill of his only friend, but this was an exception. He'd been lying awake smelling the stranger and listening to their voice when he'd heard Shiro's confession.

Keith did so leave the house. It was just that he lived in the desert so there was no one around. That wasn't his fault!

He'd show him. He'd stay the whole two weeks of the convention now, and at the end. He'd let Shiro know that he was in on his little deception.

"I'm sorry. We've been talking and I didn't even get your name. That was rude of me." Shiro apologized.

"Name's Lance. And don't worry about it. Apparently not wearing underwear is rude too." Lance confessed with a laugh.

"No it isn't. Who told you that?"

"Well. My friend made a big deal over it, so I assumed it was rude. I'm not too familiar with human customs…sorry."

"Well… it's not rude, but it is a little odd. Some people believe that not wearing underwear is a sexual thing, but I don't think so."

"You know, Shiro? You're alright." Lance announced.

"Thank you?" Shiro replied bashfully.

Lance. Was the last thought Keith had before passing out and missing the rest of the conversation.

The two continued to chat before Shiro phased through the wall separating Keith and Lance's room to let him put away his things. Before he even started, he went into the bathroom and searched the counter for his room's key card. Sure enough, there they were.

He clutched the key card in his hand as he vowed to never forget it again, before he set it on the counter next to his bottle of stones.

He set the clothes on the couch before he grabbed the packs of underwear. Hunk had measured his waist with a yellow strip he called, measuring tape, and assured him the underwear would fit.

He removed his shorts and tore open the one called boxers and tried a pair on. It felt like the shorts, but softer. Not that much different. He opened up the one called briefs and traded them out for his current underwear.

These were heaven. The closest he'd felt like his merself all day! These were wonderful. The humans must have realized how awkward it is to just have your genitals hanging from your body. This is what he was going to where all the time.

The next day, Lance was more prepared for the day. The convention was to start later on and he was preparing himself to deal with a large amount of people he didn't know touching him.

Exactly one hour before the convention started, Lance was dressed, had ingested another stone, and had his room key in his hand as he exited. He watched his hand as he put the key in his pocket and made his way to the first floor.

The location of the convention was a few minutes from the hotel and could be reached by traveling along the beach to minimize contact with humans.

Lance was sure that he would get there earlier than the morning rush…but he was wrong. The place was swarming with creatures already. What was he supposed to do here before the Alteans had their question and answer session?

He began to look around for Hunk, or Shiro, or even Keith before he found a familiar face. He kept his eyes locked on the person as he parted the sea of people milling around from one booth to another.

When he reached them, they adjusted their glasses in acknowledgment. "Matt?"

"What? No! It's me… Pidge!" she corrected.

"Katie?" Lance asked.

"Shh shh. Not so loud! I go by Pidge when I'm up here."

"What are you doing away from Atlantis? I thought Matt was supposed to attend this because he'd called 'dibs'." Lance questioned as he remembered his stay that had ended with him swimming home in the middle of the night. That had been a big argument that the siblings engaged in that had done nothing for his homesickness.

"I blackmailed Matt into letting me come along. He went off to go explore the surrounding area and left me here to answer the questions. He said he should be back before then, but if not, to meet up with him later." Pidge answered as quietly as she could in the noisy room.

The people of Atlantis were incredibly gifted with technology and had an entire civilization off the coast of Florida in the Bermuda Triangle that had yet to be discovered. Lance's school had been friends with the Atlanteans for generations and the trend continued for one of their children to visit Atlantis for a few weeks to strengthen their ties. Seeing that their school was off the coast of Cuba, it was incredibly close to the Atlanteans. They ventured to the surface less than the merfolk did, but their technology was so advanced that using the current surface technology was like using a basic calculator.

As such, Matt must have been out surveying the humans' technological expertise so that they could decide if it was time to send the next great inventor to help them reach the next point.

The two continued to catch up on what the other had missed until Pidge looked behind him. "Who're you?"

Lance turned around and found Hunk standing there. With a bright smile Lance greeted him. "Hunk! This is an old friend of mine. If I had known she'd be here I would have bothered her with my problems."

With a good-natured laugh, Hunk replied, "I told you it was fine. Glad I could help! Now I get to have a familiar face as I wait around for the convention to be over."

"About that. How'd you even know about this convention? Aren't you a demigod?"

"Yeah, but when there's a visitor to your planet you gotta keep informed. Can't just let aliens come here all willy nilly without any supervision. I'm just here to make sure that nothing bad happens. Nothing ever does, mind you, but you can't be too careful." Hunk answered.

Their conversation was interrupted by Pidge, "Whoah! How is that guy levitating?"

Lance turned and found Shiro floating, in followed by Keith. The two locked eyes and he watched as Keith inhaled sharply before he glared pointedly. Lance shrugged challengingly and made a face before Keith looked away and visibly tried to calm himself. Shiro held his shoulders gently… maybe. Could he touch living things? Lance supposed he could, since he opened his door yesterday. How was that ghost thing supposed to work?

His thoughts were also interrupted by Pidge, "I'm going in."

"What?" Lance called out but it was already too late. The young woman made her way through the crowd and approached the two.

The three began a conversation as Lance shared a look with Hunk and the two made their way over to join the trio.

"You can turn invisible too?" Pidge cried out in astonishment. "Tell me what technology are you using to achieve these feats. They must be incredibly small… no. They'd have to be imbedded into your organs in order to-"

It was Pidge's turn to be interrupted as Lance interjected, "He's a ghost, Pidge."

"What?" her brain short-circuited from the sudden change in topic.

"It's true." Shiro confessed, sending a look of gratitude at Lance for stopping Pidge's tirade.

"Dude, are you okay?" Lance heard Hunk ask. He turned and followed Hunk's gaze to find Keith using his jacket's collar to cover his nose.

"I'm fine." Was the muffled reply.

"Okay. What's your problem?" Lance asked, finally fed up.

"You smell…" As Keith thought about how to finish that sentence with something that wasn't delicious, Lance took it as an insult.

"Well, sorry." Lance mocked. If Keith wasn't so blown away by Lance's outburst (because Keith was actually trying to find something nice and not creepy and the other had reacted like he'd been insulted), he would have gotten incredibly angry at his tone. "I'll have you know, I take great care in my hygiene routine, so if I stink then that's your problem!" With that, Lance stormed away filled with insecurity. When he was far enough away, he sniffed his clothes and arms but didn't find anything bad. No one else seemed to be bothered either.

Why would he say that?

Why did I say that? Keith chided himself. It wasn't that he was angry at Lance for being rude and doing things that, if anyone else had done them or it was any other time, he would have pummeled them for their transgressions.

He watched Lance storm away and, because of his hyper focus on him, he heard Lance sniff himself self-consciously. He felt what others might have called regret, but why should he feel that way? He'd only been trying to say something nice. It was Lance's fault that he got hurt.

If he wasn't so impatient, Keith would have finished saying whatever he was going to say other than delicious.

"Why would you say that to him?" the young woman named Pidge asked accusingly.

"What? I was going to say he smelled… strongly." He finished lamely.

Pidge was taken aback and Hunk's eyes widened. Shiro slapped a hand over his eyes, the only one who understood what Keith meant by that.

"Well, I can't see how that's any better?" Pidge continued. Keith was ready to defend his honor with a duel when he felt Shiro's hand settle on his shoulder.

"He meant to say that Lance smelled nice." Shiro explained.

"Then why would he cover his nose?" she challenged.

"He-Look! I don't answer to you." Keith growled. Shiro tightened his grip, but Keith shook him off. "Whatever he is? Smells so fucking delicious, that I can't stop my mouth from watering. And I'm so worried I'm going to lose control and hurt him somehow that I was just trying to filter it through my jacket. That's. It!"

Pidge and Hunk were too stunned to respond, and even Shiro was quiet for a moment before he began to calm Keith down before he shifted.

"He's a mermaid, you know?" Hunk offered.

Keith looked up in confusion as Pidge smacked Hunk's arm with a, "He's a merman. Get it right."

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Fish. Lance smelled like a fish, and Keith's inner Galra was drawn to the smell.

With this sudden revelation, Keith felt his storm of emotions settle. It was so stupidly simple. Of course, living in the desert you're not exposed to the smell of fish…ever. This was probably why he couldn't identify the smell.

Keith felt assured that he could control himself around Lance now. Before he was worried that it was whatever creature he was that smelled so delicious. Nope. Just that he lived in the ocean and had recently transformed from his half-fish self.

It was all coming together for Keith.

Everything was falling apart for Lance.

He'd left his only friends over with that asshole and now he was alone in a sea of humans and who-knew-what-else.

He was having an internal panic attack when someone invaded his personal space from behind.

"You must not be from around here." Whispered a voice next to him.

Lance spun around and rubbed at his sensitive ear. There was a tall man with lilac skin and long white hair before him.

"No. I'm not. Now leave me alone." Lance stormed away. Outside he was shaking from anger, but inside he was trembling in fear. Something felt wrong about that guy. He turned to find the safety of his friends but was intercepted by the stranger again.

"Aww, don't be like that. I'm just trying to be nice. Name's Lotor." He held out a clawed hand.

"Nice to meet you." It wasn't nice. Lance didn't grin so much as flash his serrated teeth at this man in warning. He hoped he would leave him alone.

"Lance?" he heard Shiro.

Oh, thank fuck!

"Shiro!" Lance watched as the ghost floated through everyone while behind him, everyone else was weaving their way through the crowd. Well, all except Keith who was glaring at Lotor and shoving everyone who got in his way.

"Shiro?" Lotor asked from in front of him. The man turned and watched, transfixed, as Shiro approached.

When Shiro heard Lotor's voice, he froze.

"It can't be… you're dead."

Keith shouted for his friend in concern and snapped Shiro out of his stupor. "Was dead. I find I'm a ghost of my former self though." Shiro joked maliciously. "No thanks to you."

A memory flashed through Lance's mind of words Shiro had spoken previously. 'It's not that I don't believe you or anything. But I can't exactly just let you into this room unless I know it's yours. Trusting the wrong people put me in my situation in the first place and all that.'

Was Lotor responsible for Shiro's death? He at least played a part, if Lance was reading the atmosphere correctly.

"Get away from him, Lotor." Shiro demanded.

"And what are you going to do about it? Watch?" Lotor laughed and Lance felt a shiver of disgust course through him.

Whatever Lotor was going to say was stopped by a blur of purple, red, and black.

Keith, who had been keeping himself in check for so long, finally allowed his other-self free.

Lance couldn't even see what was happening as the two Galra fought. For surely, this is what Hunk was talking about. Between the two of them, Lance was able to make out purple fur over their bodies and large feline ears pressed flat against their heads.

He remained frozen until Shiro called for Keith to stop. He sounded extremely worried and it was then, that Lance noticed the wounds appearing on the two as they fought. Keith's fury and the element of surprise were quickly being triumphed by experience.

He didn't like Keith, but he didn't deserve to be maimed. Shiro couldn't help, and seeing as Pidge was weaponless and Hunk was more or less human, Lance knew it was time for him to take action. He was much weaker out of the water, but hopefully at close range, it wouldn't matter.

With a sharp breath to steady his nerves, he lunged at one of Lotor's arms. He would have preferred a weapon, but his teeth did well enough on their own. Within a second, Lotor's right arm was useless and he was yowling in pain. He began fighting to get away more than fighting to kill and that was when Lance knew he'd had enough.

He pulled away and, after words fell on Keith's deaf ears, kicked Keith off of Lotor. Seizing his chance, Lotor scrambled off to go lick his wounds or whatever he needed to do to treat his injuries.

After being struck, Keith was dazed for a moment before he picked himself up and turned to face Lance challengingly.

Shiro was calling in the background for Keith to stop and come back to his senses, but he did not acknowledge the ghost's words.

Feigning confidence, Lance stood challengingly, "You should listen to your friend." He positioned his body so that he could lunge at his attacker. "I'm not one to be trifled with."

He must have seen in his opponent's eyes that he didn't want to fight, or maybe he realized that the one before him had been an ally, because Keith remained motionless. After a few heart-poundingly tense moments, Keith spoke. "Are you okay?"

Lance was astonished. The man in front of him was scratched to hell, and had gouges in very alarming places that were slowly oozing blood. Whereas Lance was just terrified and didn't have a single injury to show for their scuffle.

"Me? I'm not the one bleeding everywhere. The better question is: are you all right?"

Keith smirked and it almost looked like a smile to Lance. "I'm fine. Just wanted to make sure your feelings weren't hurt again." He mocked.

Lance shook his head, defeated. "You are such an asshole." He said without any heat behind it.

It was then, that he realized there was a crowd of onlookers watching the scene. Some had been recording it to show their friends. Others had run away in panic and the rest were just watching something they found entertaining.

"This is the most I've action I've ever seen at one of these things. And this is my fifth one!" Hunk stage whispered to Pidge who, after smacking him for his inappropriately timed humor, turned to him in amazement and began a series of questions.

Keith calmed himself down and his fur faded to reveal his skin again. His tufted ears melded back into his skull, and Lance wondered if his transformation had looked half as pretty as Keith's did.

Lance helped Keith to the convention's makeshift infirmary along with Hunk on the other side. Pidge and he continued their banter while Shiro, Lance, and Keith remained silent. Keith was quiet because he was sure if he were to make a sound it would be whimpers of pain and he was not about to let that happen. Lance was wondering what his life had come to in order to use pretty to describe anything about Keith. And Shiro floated alongside them, feeling useless and guilty, as his own thoughts whispered cutting words at him.

The person who was working there was quick to cover the wounds and had Keith rest in one of the cots until his wounds clotted enough that he could move without bleeding everywhere. She explained that Keith's Galra abilities would have him "right as rain" in a "jiffy". Lance hoped that meant he'd be better soon.

It was only after Pidge and Hunk had left the other three to rejoin the convention that Shiro spoke.

"I'm sorry, Keith."

Keith cracked open one of his eyes and assessed Shiro's guilty posture. "Shut up." It's not your fault. He managed not to whimper.

Lance, sensing the mood, kept his mouth shut. For anyone else, the atmosphere would have been unbearable.

"No, Keith. I'm sorry. I couldn't help you. What if something like that happens and there isn't anyone around who can help?"

"We'll-", he gasped in pain, he really wished Shiro would do this some other time, "we'll cross that bridge when we find it."

Hearing Keith gasp in pain, and knowing that he had pushed him that far, Shiro's face screwed up with guilt and he turned and fled to wallow in his self-made depression.

Keith cursed quietly before he whimpered in pain, physical and emotional. His frustration increased at his inability to help Shiro with this ridiculous notion that he had something to feel guilty about.

Taking pity on Keith, Lance made to get up as he announced, "I'll go talk to him."

He felt a pull on his shorts. He looked back and saw Keith telling him with his eyes to stay. After looking back to where Shiro had disappeared, Lance settled down in the chair next to Keith's bed.

"He's going to," a swallow of pain, "feel like this no matter what we say." Keith paused to collect himself. "He's insufferable when he gets like this."

Lance laughed lightly.

There was a long stretch of silence before either of them spoke.

"Fishy." Keith announced.

"What?"

"You smell fishy. S'what I was going to say earlier." Keith explained.

Was that good or bad? Not seeing anything malicious about the tone or posture of the injured man in front of him, Lance accepted his words with an, "Oh. Thank you?"

"Hmm." Was all he got in reply.

They sat a half hour in relative silence. Both lost in thoughts about Shiro and each other. Before, "Oh shit!" Lance jumped up in alarm.

"What?"

"I forgot about the Altean's speech!"

"Who cares?" Keith asked, not wanting Lance to leave him alone.

"I do! It's the only reason I'm here." He began to stand and Keith sighed as he struggled to sit up.

"Wait. I'll go with you." He offered.

"Sit down and get better. I'll come back when I'm done, Mr. Clingy." Lance ordered.

"I am not clingy!"

"Are too!"

"Since when does being concerned for the safety of others make someone clingy?" Keith challenged.

"It doesn't."

"See?"

"But you don't want to follow me for my safety. You just can't bear to be apart from me." Lance finished dramatically.

Keith felt a flush of either anger or embarrassment on his face, "Get over yourself."

Lance laughed at his expense and left without seeing if Keith followed him or not. Keith sat on the bed debating on whether to follow after that conversation when Lance poked his head back into the doorway.

"You coming or not, Mr. Hero?" he mocked with a giggle.

Definitely anger.