Lance bolts upright in bed. He looks frantically around his room, standing on shaky legs. His throat feels dry. He pulls his housecoat off of the back of his desk chair and wraps it around himself. The pictures hanging up on his wall look wrong. There isn't anything specific he can pinpoint about it, but there's an uneasy feeling in his gut. He pulls down a photo of Shiro and studies it. He doesn't remember taking this. The Black Paladin's body is facing away from the camera, but he's looking back over his shoulder. He's only partially lit; the left half of his body completely masked in shadow. He almost looks like someone else completely with the harsh directional light gleaming off his armour. He gasps at the sound of footsteps outside his room and hurriedly sets the picture down on his desk. He waits, frozen as the steps fade. With a quick exhale he opens his door and peeks out into the dark hall. No one. The bottoms of his feet sting as they press into the cold floor, but his slippers have soles and he's not about to do anything to jeopardize his ability to stay quiet. Maybe he's being a tad paranoid, but this castle hasn't done anything to prove it's not haunted. He steps out into the corridor. The only sound was his faint footsteps as he set off in the direction of the kitchen. He'll just get some water and head back to bed. He shivers, pressing his lips together to avoid chattering his teeth. It's can't be more than a couple of degrees, but the castle is usually decently warm, even at night. He creeps into the kitchen, holding his arms out to make sure he doesn't run into anything and grips the handle of the fridge door. He pulls and it opens with a quiet pop. The light went on, revealing a figure standing by the counter. He nearly jumps out of his skin and lets out a shriek. He catches his breath as he shakes his head at Shiro. He has dark circles and bags under his eyes, "getting some water?"

"Christ, Shiro! You scared me half to death."

"Sorry." He doesn't sound particularly sorry. Lance squirms a bit. Shiro is generally a sincere guy. He pulls the water jug from the middle shelf and glanced over, "would you mind..?"

"Oh. Yeah, of course." He unfolds his arms as his Galra hand starts emanating a purple glow. Lance opens the cupboard and grabs a glass, pouring himself a drink and replacing the jug to its rightful spot. He paused for a moment, cup in hand, "you're in full gear?"

"I'll leave you be." Shiro started walking away.

"Wait!"

The Black Paladin's body is facing away him, but he looks back over his shoulder, "let me ask you something, Lance." He's only partially lit; the left half of his body completely masked in shadow. He almost looks like someone else completely with the harsh light from his hand gleaming off his armour. Lance swallows, "yeah?"

"Am I right in thinking that you no longer value me as a leader in the same way you did before I disappeared? I've noticed that we haven't been... on the best terms lately. And I'm sorry for that, but you have to realize that war is war and I know what the best course of action is."

He lowers his voice, "Of course I value you. You're my hero." He clears his throat, "But with all due respect, Shiro, we're a team. I feel like you keep forgetting that."

"We may be a team, but this team has a leader for a reason."

Lance fails to hold back a flinch at his harsh tone, "Shiro-"

"You have to listen to me, I need you to listen!" His voice loses its low growl as it raises in desperation, "Lance! Lance, listen! Please can you-can... can you hear m-" he gasps and hunches over in what looks like pain. Lance runs over to him as he crumples to the floor. He kneels beside him, placing a hand on his back, "Shiro!" The light from his arm went out and the two were left in darkness. Lance curls his hand into a fist as he waited for his eyes to adjust. He shifts his weight, "Shiro?" All he could hear was his own breathing. Oh god, what's happeni- Lance yells as he is thrown against the island, his head smashing into the overhanging countertop. Cold steel presses his airway closed as he's lifted from the ground. He grips the metal, kicking forward in an attempt to hit his attacker. He tries to call out to Shiro, say anything, but he can't make a sound. His lungs scream, every muscle in his body tenses. His attacker slams him against the far wall, still holding the death grip on his neck, the momentum crushing his throat back against his spine as he hit the surface. He squeezes his eyes shut as a purple glow temporarily blinds him. He grits his teeth and squints down at his attacker. His eyes fly open, "Shiro?" He mouths, the sh sound the only part that actually comes out. His vision blurs, wether from lightheadedness or the hot tears forming in his eyes he can't tell, "I told you to stay out of this!" Shiro spits in his face. The hand shines more intensely as it jumps from freezing to burning in a second. He lurches backwards as the metal sears his throat, smashing his head back against the wall. He can smell his own burning flesh.

He screams and sits up in bed, trying to launch himself across the room, but getting tangled in his sheets. He falls to the floor beside his bed. His chest heaves as he sucks in as much air as humanly possible. He can breathe. He looks down at his hands. No burns. He feels his throat. Nothing. He lets out a shaky sigh, head in hands. What the hell was all of that? He stands and walks over to his desk. He furrows his eyebrows when he doesn't find what he's looking for. He scours the wall. No picture.

Coran's voice rings out over the comm, "Paladins, you're needed on the bridge for a couple of doboshes." He pulls his shirt over his head and buttons his jeans, then acquiring socks and shoes. On his way out the door he grabs his jacket, not bothering to put it on. He steps out into the well lit hallway. He looks back over his shoulder every few steps, hugging his jacket close to his chest. He gets to the bridge after what feels like forever. Allura and Hunk are already there, standing with Coran by the computer. He doesn't notice Shiro leaning against the wall. Hunk acknowledges him with a wave, pausing to do a double take, "You okay, dude? You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"I'm fine." He mumbles.

"Lance, if somethi-" he screams and drops his jacket at the feeling of Shiro's metal arm on his shoulder. He whips around and scrambles backwards, slipping on his jacket and falling flat on his back. Shiro stares, wide eyed at Lance. He sits, staring into nothing with tears streaming down his cheeks, gasping for air between sobs. Shiro lowers himself to sit on his heels in front of him, "Lance?" He's frozen, looking at him with pure terror in his eyes. Hunk steps in, "Lance and I are gonna go have a talk. You'll be fine without us?"

"Yeah. I-I guess." Coran rubs the back of his neck. Shiro shoots him a questioning, somewhat panicked look and Hunk shrugs as he pulls Lance to his feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He watches them go then looks at his hand. Allura leans down to put a hand on his back, "come on, Shiro." Pidge walks in, looking back over her shoulder, "what in the-" she pauses at the sight of an utterly dejected Shiro sitting on the floor, "what's going on?" He stands up, slouching, arms folded over his chest, "I don't know. Lance came in looking like he'd gone through hell and..." he avoids meeting her gaze, "when I asked him what was wrong he-he..." Shiro trails off. Pidge approaches him, "what?"

"He had a breakdown or something. Looked at me like I was some kind of monster."

"Lance?" Pidge glances from him to Coran, then over to Allura "Are you sure?"

Allura frowns, "I don't understand. Lance isn't usually like this."

Shiro laces his fingers, "I-I don't know what I could've done." He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing his thumb over his scar. Pidge reaches up to lay a hand on his arm, "if you don't remember doing anything than I doubt you were the reason he freaked out. He's been on edge lately, we've all seen it. Probably just woke up from a nightmare or something right before we got called up here."

Shiro forces a smile, "I'm sure you're right, Pidge. I'll ask him about it once he's calmed down a bit." He turns to Coran, "alright, what do you need us for?"

"Hey dude, Shiro wants to talk to you." Lance hurriedly wipes the remaining tears from his cheeks, lifting his head from his knees. He looks up at Hunk then at Shiro from his spot on the floor, "yeah-" his voice cracks and he clears his throat, "of course."

Hunk shifts his gaze between them, "I'll go." He backs around the corner. Lance listens to his footsteps as he disappears. He turns to Shiro, "listen, man, I'm really sorry about all that."

He furrows his brow and sits cross legged beside him, "what's going on? Everyone is worried about you"

"I..." he lets his forehead drop back against his knees a little too hard. Ow. He searches for the right words, "things have happened that I never in my wildest dreams thought would be possible. And just when I thought I understood what the hell was going on it changed again and I have to try and find an explanation to tell myself so I can sleep at night. I need to feel like there are rules and facts that I can rely on, but there's not. It's all so... complicated. I just want to go back to when everything was simple and easy and all I had to think about was school and girls and my family and pizza and lifeguarding in Varadero and writing to Hunk every week and one-upping Keith and-and... that's it." Lance leans into him as he throws an arm around his shoulders. Shiro stares up at the ceiling, "I'm sorry, Lance. I've been projecting my problems onto you. I know that you don't deserve any of this."

"Don't bottle it up, man. If you're worried about yourself you need to let someone know."

"But you're..." he exhales shakily, his soft grey eyes darting away from Lance's face, "you're terrified of me."

"I'm not scared of you, Shiro." That's a lie. "But even if I was, which I'm not, I know that there's a chance something's wrong and that's more important than anything I might be dealing with emotionally."

"I'm sorry"

"I said don't be. This is important stuff."

"Can I rely on you... to not trust me?"

"You're going to have to." Shiro holds out his hand. Lance hesitates a moment before shaking it, forming a deal of necessary distrust between the two of them. He nuzzles against Shiro's chest, "just so you know, no matter what happen you'll always be like a dad to me."

Shiro rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh, "I'm not even ten years older than you!"

"Whatever you say, old man."

"Wha- why can't Coran be space dad?"

"Nah, he's the weird uncle."

"Who makes these decisions?"

Lance straightens his back, holding up a finger and announces in the most regal voice he could pull, "The ancient council of coolness!" Shiro laughs. Lance stands, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he does, "I'd better go ask Coran to fill me in." He puts a hand on the wall as he goes to turn the corner and looks back. Shiro meets his gaze and an unspoken acknowledgment passes between them. He wants more than anything to be able to rely on his leader, his hero, but that's a luxury he can no longer afford. He absentmindedly rubs his throat as he heads towards the bridge.