-x-
familiar voices and careful hands
-x-
Keith's side is burning, blood filling up his windpipe. He chokes, coughing, trying to clear his lungs, to get a breath and his bearings. His ears are ringing, body still vibrating from the roar of solid earth shifting and crashing down around him. It's brighter than he expects it to be in the narrow cave, flecks of golden dirt drifting in the air as it settles. The blue highlights of Paladin armour stand out stiffly in the gloom. Grasping onto the wall as he stands, his legs barely supporting his stubborn weight, Keith counts them with a pounding heart.
There's Lance, already on his feet, bayard formed and ready in his hands. His helmet is gone. Lance turns, and Keith sees the grimace tightening his features, the sharpness of his blue eyes; the trail of dark blood sliding down the side of his face, dripping from his jaw.
Hunk is on the ground flat near Lance, groaning, and Keith can tell from his tone alone, with a rush of relief, that he's more annoyed and tired - because of course this would happen, of course - than anything else. Sensing no other immediate danger, Hunk gives himself a moment to recover before he starts to push himself up. His armour is scuffed and dirty, but he looks unharmed otherwise.
Allura is slower to rise, having landed harshly as she was thrown deeper into the cave. She's holding her bicep tightly, features obscured beneath the shattered screen of her helmet. There's an unsettling pop as she thrusts her shoulder back into the socket, a high, stifled grunt of pain that has Keith's chest seizing in panic, that Lance zero's in on as soon as he hears it, too, spinning toward the sound of her voice.
"Allura!"
"I'm alright," she says, exhaling, gingerly moving her arm and flexing her hand. She turns toward a scuffling in the back, just as alert and wary as Lance.
It's Pidge, punching their gauntlet.
"Stupid light! I can't see anything! Is everyone alright?"
"We're fine," Lance says, "I think. Hunk, you good?"
"I'm good."
"Where's Keith?"
Satisfied that the others are accounted for, Lance turns again, searching for Keith. He can't see. Keith realizes this as he watches the tentative way Lance shifts his feet without picking them up from the ground, the way his eyes dart aimless around in the mawing darkness, a little too high and a little too low. After a second pass, they land on Keith, and it's probably the labored sound of his breathing more than anything else that tips Lance off to his location.
"...Keith?"
"Yeah," he manages.
His voice doesn't sound right, even to his own ears. It doesn't feel right coming out of his throat. It tugs at something deep in his side and makes his breath hiss in, then get stuck, the taste of copper on the back of his tongue. Keith digs his hand down against his soft side, nestled between his hip and ribs. Even through the thick material of his gloves, he feels a gush of warmth. He knows that's bad. But everyone's okay. That's all that matters to him right now.
"Dude, what's wrong with your eyes? You're freaking me out!" Lance asks, sharp and worried. He's stepping toward Keith, the movement of his feet unsure but guided by his sense of urgency.
Keith doesn't understand.
He can see everyone just fine, even though it should be difficult in the closed space. There is no light filtering in through a single crack in the earth. There is no shift of air moving that he can hear or feel or smell. It's too still. Too quiet.
They're going to suffocate, if they aren't crushed to death by another cave-in first.
"Nothing," Keith says belatedly.
He has to keep it together. He can't think like that now. Everyone is depending on him to keep a level head and get them out of here safely, and he has to protect them.
"Keith, they're yellow."
Oh. Lance's words sink in, and Keith shudders.
The involuntary sensation ripples through his muscles, sending a wave of pain crashing after it, and Keith squeezes his eyes closed, doubling over. His breath wheezes out as he bears his hand down against the wound in his side, pressing harder, willing it to stop. He tries not to make a sound. He doesn't want to scare the others. He just needs to breathe for a second, it's going to be fine.
A hand lands on his shoulder, awkward and displaced until it grips on tighter. Another hand grabs his elbow and tries to take some of his weight. The scent of Lance's body lotion mixed with sweat is strong when it's so close, and Keith relaxes without meaning to, his knees almost giving way.
The tinge of blood is in the air too. It makes Keith nauseous, but he can't tell if it's his or Lance's.
"Can one of you please get a light on or something?"
"I'm trying, something is wrong with our suits!"
"Our helmets aren't working, either, even if they're undamaged."
"Hang on," Hunk says, "I think I've got - yeah, I've got a light!"
It blinks on a second later, a handheld device rather than the one installed in their gauntlets. Hunk sweeps the light around the opposite way, trying to place everybody. It lands on Allura and Pidge first, on opposite ends of the narrow cave, where it tapers to a point of deep shadows in the back. It sweeps across the tall jagged-looking slope of rocks and dirt that forced them into this corner and then effectively blocked their path, closing them in.
When the light lands on Lance and Keith, the others gasp.
"Keith!"
"Oh my god!"
"I'm fine," Keith forces the words out, but at this point he's relying too heavily on Lance to keep him standing. His legs are shaking and his head feels empty, like it's full of air and floating off without him. It's hard to focus. The pain in his stomach throbs, muscles tightening and snatching his breath. It makes him want to curl up tight and never move again.
The light is too much, his eyes stinging, watering. Lance is easing him to the ground with steady hands, and softly spoken words, and Keith really doesn't have much of a choice but to follow Lance's lead. He isn't expecting the relief that comes when he finally sits, leaning back against the wall of the cave. His hand is still pressing over the wound, but some of the tension in his body relaxes and he gets a full breath into his lungs without feeling like he's going to choke on it.
He still feels a slight prickling at the back of his throat, still tastes blood, can practically feel it settling in his lungs, or maybe his stomach. He coughs again. That doesn't help. The pain is sharp and burning. Keith finally curls, drawing his knees up to his chest and leaning against them, gritting his teeth.
"Keith," Allura says, "Let me see where you're hurt."
She's kneeling next to him. Keith has no idea when she got there. He can't move his hand off it, but he does try to straighten out his leg. Hunk comes closer with the light so Allura can see, only to immediately shuffle back, a low groan pushing out of him that they all recognize.
"Somebody's gonna have to hold the light for me," he says, mouth pressed into a thin line as he looks at anything but Keith's open side.
Lance extends his hand to take the light.
"Allura... Can you do anything?"
"I don't know," she says, hands hovering near Keith's as she bends to try and examine the wound. It's deep. Keith knows that it's deep by the heavy scent of his own blood and the way it won't stop no matter how hard he presses. "Using my abilities to manipulate the already-present energy around me is one thing. It's another entirely to heal a physical body… my knowledge of anatomy is quite basic, I'm afraid."
"Just leave it." Keith has to force the words out on a shaky exhale. "We have to… focus on getting… out of here. Is anybody's…..comm working…?"
"I'm working on it," Pidge says, crouched near Keith's feet at the edge of the light. They've taken their wrist guard apart, blowing at the insides, occasionally fiddling with it. "There's too much dust and it's charged with some weird minerals. This is the last time we take Coran's advice about where to hunt for appetizing mushrooms."
"This is the last time we stop at some uninhabited planet to search for provisions," Lance says.
"We need food, Lance," Hunk says, foot scuffing in the dirt as he keeps his back to them, "I could only fit so much in the cargo hold and we need at least three meals a day if we're going to stay in good enough condition to fight, even if it's just a protein bar or a dehydrated food goo packet. I don't know about you, but I'd prefer a real lunch every now and then."
"I'm just saying, civilization is way better than the wilderness! As a totally random example, they have, oh, I dunno - hospitals - "
"Lance, help me get this off of him," Allura says, already working her fingers underneath the edge of Keith's chest plate, reaching around his arm for the clasp, "It may help take the pressure off his chest. He's not breathing well."
Keith starts to protest - because it hurts to move and he doesn't want to, because he can't bear all this attention - but Lance cuts him off, impatient as he passes the light to Pidge, "Don't be difficult!"
Keith shuts his mouth and doesn't argue, and it does feel better once the task is over, actually. Some of the ache in his chest eases up. The absence of the bulky armour allows Keith to fold his arm more comfortably over his stomach and let both hands rest over the wound, clasped against his side where the blood is still pulsing, thick and slow, between his fingers.
Allura touches the back of his hand, and Keith flinches at the feather-light contact.
"Just bear with me a moment," she says, giving Keith a reassuring smile that he really tries to return before she closes her eyes to concentrate.
Keith tries to be still and not breathe too hard, but he isn't hoping for much. This isn't like moving Shiro's essence out of the Black Lion and into a body, or breaking out of a magical barrier, or guiding them sideways into a pocket dimension. Then again, if the castle's pods can accelerate the healing process, maybe Allura can too. He does notice, after a few intense seconds, that he starts to feel warmer. Where before his fingers were going numb and his strength was slacking off, Keith feels a shift inside of him that suffuses his body with an invigorating light.
A faint blue glow begins under Allura's hands, turning gold as it spreads to Keith, covering his side. The pain recedes. Not completely, but it's enough that Keith is able to relax in earnest. He closes his eyes, feels an abstract pressure moving over the wound, the tug and shift of muscle and tissue. After the glow fades and the heat he feels moving under his skin cools, Keith looks down and carefully lifts his hands.
Beside him, Lance's breathes out a sigh of relief.
"Nice one, Allura."
"I'm afraid it's only a patch job," Allura says. Lifting Keith's hand further so she can see his side better. Keith allows himself to be handled, but winces at the sharp pull through his tightly stitched muscles. The wound is closed, pinched together and no longer bleeding freely, but it doesn't look great, red and irritated under the tear in his flight suit, and it is still throbbing painfully. Allura gives him a knowing and sympathetic look. "This does not mean you are to leap up and start barking orders. You'll still need to go in the pod as soon as we get back to the Lions, and you need to rest now."
"Right," Keith says softly, smiling, "Thanks, Allura."
"What're you guys doing over there?" Lance asks, looking over his shoulder.
Now that Allura has stopped using her magic, darkness has returned to the cave except for the single light in Lance's hand, illuminating Keith - and a new one beaming from Pidge's wrist, near the back of the cave where the shadows crease together. Keith can no longer see anything outside each beam of light and the faint glow it casts around. He can't make out any details, can't quite smell the sharp tang of blood or the damp richness of the dirt and surrounding rock anymore. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand.
Pidge hums in answer to Lance's question, poking at the panel that appears over their wrist. It's staticy, riddled with interference from the minerals in the soil, but after a few tics, Pidge is able to scan the back wall with a diffused green light.
"I think I may have just found our exit!"
They step forward and put their hand behind the wall. It's an outcropping that Keith can't see from where he's sitting, and he watches with some surprise as Pidge's whole small body disappears into the hidden passage, taking half the light with them. It beams through in fissures as they shift around and poke their head back out. They're covered in dirt, but grinning, lifting their wrist.
"My scanner says it leads through to a larger passageway that will take us outside. It widens up a bit further in."
"Uh, I got news for you guys," Hunk says, "I am not gonna get out that way."
"Well. No," Pidge allows, "I can barely fit. I don't even think Lance could squeeze his skinny butt in here."
"Hey," Lance says, "I've got muscle!" Keith snorts, smirking. It's probably the blood loss. Lance rounds on him next, face unmistakably heated, fist pounding his thigh. "Excuse me, not all of us spent two years on the back of a space whale getting super buff!"
It's definitely the blood loss. Keith finds himself struggling not to laugh, sharp pains pinching his side with every futilely stifled chuckle. Lance makes an annoyed noise as at him that's bordering on a growl and it's that much funnier to Keith. Lance obviously doesn't know how to take this response and turns back around to face Pidge, directing the light toward them.
"Anyway. You shouldn't go by yourself."
"Do you expect us to dig our way out?" Pidge's light glances over Lance, the blood drying on his face. "You might have a concussion, and Keith just got his guts almost ripped out by these sharp rocks. None of our comms are working so we can't contact Shiro and the others. Our Lions can't come dig us out without possibly crushing us in another cave in. If I can get out of here and get back to them, I can send Kosmo in to get the rest of you."
"Pidge, I didn't say it wasn't a good plan," Lance concedes, frowning,"I just don't like the idea of you squeezing into an even tighter space when this cave in came out of nowhere, or being alone when we don't know what else is out there."
"Yeah," Hunk says, "I agree."
"If Pidge can fit, then so can I," Allura says, getting to her feet. She walks over to examine the passage as Pidge wiggles back out. "I can make myself smaller. We can both go."
"Does that please everyone?" Pidge prompts, only a little sarcastic as they look at the three of them expectantly.
Allura is already undoing the clasp of her own armour.
"We don't have much of a choice," Keith says. He'd prefer it if they stayed together, but he knows, even with a cloudy head, that Pidge is right. This is their best shot for getting everybody out of this stupid situation safely. "We're counting on you guys."
"If we can't get out, we'll come back and think of something else," Pidge says, taking Allura's lead and pulling off their chest plate, as well. It will make squeezing through the narrow passage that much easier without their jetpacks getting caught on every angle.
"Please be careful," Hunk says, looking anxious as he watches two of his teammates shed their protective layers.
"Don't worry so much, Hunk," Allura says fondly.
She changes her size effortlessly and within a moment is standing at the same height as Pidge, smiling sideways at them. Her dark flight suit conforms to fit the smaller body, but the guards on her legs and arms are noticeably loose, banging against her when she moves. It would be too much to carry anything other than the chest plate along, and she doesn't want to be quite that vulnerable incase they do encounter danger, so she leaves them on.
Pidge goes first, leading the way with the light, and Allura disappears right after.
Lance leaves the light he's holding trained on that spot until the sound of their shuffling and murmuring fades away, and then he sighs softly, lowering it.
"Now what?"
"We should probably…. conserve the light," Keith says reasonably, looking at the device in Lance's hand, "That thing needs to be charged, doesn't it?"
Lance looks at it too, obviously not liking the idea of sitting here in the dark. Keith doesn't like it, either, but it will be better than not having the light at all when they need it. Before Lance can turn it off, Hunk makes a high, nervous humming sound and jogs over to them, throwing himself down into a sitting position against the wall on Keith's other side, huddling close. It's his injured side, and Keith winces. Hunk drops his arm over Keith, patting him despite the weird angle.
"Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, I forgot - "
"It's okay, Hunk."
"Sorry," he murmurs again anyway.
Keith hesitates, then lifts a hand to pat Hunk's arm. It's awkward returning the comforting gesture, but it seems to help Hunk calm down so Keith is glad that he does it. He keeps reaping the rewards of reaching out to the people he cares about, even if small things are the only ones he can manage right now, and he can't help feeling grateful. Lance also shifts around to get comfortable, with his back firmly against the wall, with Keith sandwiched between himself and Hunk. He's the one closest to the passageway, now, and he keeps himself facing that direction even as he leans against Keith.
He kills the light without warning.
It's probably for the best.
Hunk flinches, but isn't given the chance to protest or drag it out. Keith stares straight ahead with heavy eyes and waits, trying not to think about the ache in his side or how taxing it is to breathe. The highlights on their armour are glowing faintly. After a while, the thin neon light is enough for them to at least see each others faces in the murk.
Hunk breaks first, "Okay, sitting here in the quiet is gonna drive me nuts before Pidge and Allura get back. Someone talk about something."
"What?" Keith asks faintly.
He feels a rough jab from Lance's elbow. "Hey! No sleeping!" Lance pushes him again, and Keith groans in annoyance, pushing one hand against the floor to sit up straighter. The movement helps wake up him. He hadn't realized he'd been drifting off, slumping down the wall.
A hand falls on his injured side - a bare hand, warm fingers feeling for wetness, as if worried his wound might have opened up despite Allura's magic. Keith drops his hand over it without thinking. Lance doesn't pull it back. He settles again, and Keith realizes Lance is staring at him closely, squinting in the dark. He kind of wishes he could still see...
"Let's play a game," Lance says.
"What, Lance?" Hunk asks, "I Spy?""
"There are word games we can play!" Lance insists, "There's one I used to play with my brothers and sisters when we were learning English! You go through the alphabet saying words that start with each letter like, I say a word that starts with the letter A. Keith says one that starts with B. Hunk gets C. I get D. See what I'm saying?"
"Ooooh, yeah, I get it. Okay, let's do that one. Go!"
"Okay," Lance says, sitting back, "Umm. Apple."
Keith's first thought is orange but he manages to not blurt that out and have Lance make fun of him for the rapid-fire association.
"Banana."
"Cactus."
"Dolphin!"
"Elephant," Keith says, suppressing a chuckle.
"Frog."
Lance hums, long and drawn out. "Geranium. That's like a flower right?"
"Oh nice," Hunk says, "It is."
Lance pumps his fist. "H, mullet head."
Keith is drawing a blank for some reason, as if all the words that start with H were suddenly purged from his memory. He wonders if he's still bleeding on the inside, or if he's just feeling so tired from the energy Allura must have used to close his wound up.
"Hurts," he says.
"No," Lance says, sounding angry, "Something fun, Keith."
"Wait wait wait," Hunk says, his hand falling across Keith's chest again, "Is - is that your answer? Or are you hurting?"
Keith sees no point in being dishonest.
"Both," he says on a strained breath.
"We can't do anything about that except distract you from it, man," Lance says, doing that soft but steady thing with his voice, "Think of something else."
"...Harmony," Keith says, feeling a bit stupid in the surprised silence that follows.
"Indigo," Hunk says quietly.
"Jackpot," Lance says, smiling.
They keep the game going as long as possible, switching up the order after every round, occasionally doing categories instead of free for alls to up the difficulty. When they get bored with it or start repeating themselves too much, Lance has another one ready. They trade the alphabet for similar-sounding syllables - "Say, that five times fast!" - until Keith's voice is scratching out of his throat, and his head is pounding, and they're all feeling fatigued just from talking.
"Any idea how long it's been?" he asks during a lag.
"Couple of hours," Hunk says.
Lance has stood up to stretch again, reaching his arms all the way up until his spine pops and then all the way down between his feet, pressing his palms against the floor. He sighs, his face against his knees, and sinks into a crouch with his arms wrapped around his legs. Keith is the only one close enough to feel the way he wobbles slightly, as if off-balanced.
He rolls his head toward Lance, frowning in the darkness, his worry like warm molasses moving through his brain, barely penetrating the haze of exhaustion.
"Lance. Is your head okay?"
"I'll live," he says, voice smashed against his knees.
Keith can't tell if he's lying or not, but doesn't argue with him. The pain in his side has settled like a dull ache deep in his bones. He's starting to feel sick, his head spinning with every small movement. An uncomfortable weight he can't place is pressing on his insides. It makes his pulse and his breathing shallow. It makes him tired.
Every time he starts to nod off, Hunk or Lance says something, and it's starting to get annoying.
He would feel better if he could sleep. He knows he probably shouldn't. He wants to stay alert. If something happens, he needs to be present. But he feels really safe tucked in between Lance and Hunk like this, and he has too many warring inclinations. Vertigo swoops along the curve of his skull and tips him sideways again, even though the floor is firm beneath him, the wall unmoving at his back. Opening his eyes makes no difference; there isn't any point Keith can fix on to convince himself that he's not rocking precariously back and forth.
That pressure is building, burning up his throat.
Keith's arms twitch, curled loose around his stomach.
"I might…. throw up," he gasps.
The silence that follows it is oppressive. No one in the cave moves, or even breathes. And then Hunk shifts beside him, a hand gripping Keith's elbow, and Lance yelps, "You serious?" The light clicks on. It's pointed aside, but the abrupt glare after so long in the dark makes them wince. Keith squeezes his eyes closed, clamps his mouth shut and presses his head back against the wall.
"Hey," Hunk says in a calm voice, "Breathe, man. Slow, deep breaths, okay? Are you really gonna puke? Do you feel sick? Are you still hurting, is it bad?"
"Yeah."
"Y-yeah? Yeah to what?"
"Move your arms," Lance says, leaning over him with the light. He doesn't wait for Keith to do it - his arms are heavy, and Keith doesn't even realize that what Lance says is an order. Keith just opens his eyes and looks at him blearily. Everything's a little fuzzy. He can't help wondering if that's a bad sign, or if it's just because he's not used to the light. Lance picks his arm up from where it's draped across his stomach, his hand resting over the tear in his flight suit.
Hunk is the one who looks. He makes a quiet, nervous sound.
"Hey, man, there's - there's a pretty big bruise."
"A bruise?"
"Yeah…. It's like, super dark…"
Lance reaches across him.
Keith watches the movement without understanding what it means. His whole body jerks when Lance touches the bruise. His fingers barely brush over the tender skin, swollen and dark with blood welling below the surface - it feels like he rakes his nails across it, setting all Keith's nerves alight in all the wrong wrong ways, and Keith finds the strength to jerk his knees up and grip Lance's wrist and elbow. He means, instinctively, to shove Lance away. Grabbing onto him is as far as Keith gets before he has to gust out a noisy breath, his muscles going weak, stomach trembling.
He is just barely aware of the hands touching him, cautious, soothing, apologetic, and the voices on either side of him. They're panicking. He really has to get a handle on this.
"Keith," Lance's voice breaks through, "Are you going to be sick?"
Keith nods, about a second before he feels his stomach roll.
It's going to hurt like hell, but maybe he'll feel better. He really doesn't want to throw up on Lance or Hunk. This situation is bad enough. He should be trying to lift their spirits or something, not making them feel scared and worse and - god, he's bad at this. He's so bad at this. Hunk moves a lot faster than Keith gives him credit for. He's up and out of the way, grabbing Keith's arm and yanking him up to his knees, at the exact moment that Keith's stomach riots.
It's awful, and it feels like it's never going to stop.
It's acidic, burning his nose and throat, his stomach hot and heaving and aching, pain shuddering in the wake of every violent convulsion. Keith can't even hold himself up once he's done, spitting bile and blood out of his mouth, choking on it, sucking in a wet, shaking breath. He feels worse than he ever has in his entire life, and can't help the soft moan that escapes in his misery. A hand is locked around his bicep, holding him up as he sits on his knees, another rubbing down his back.
"Sorry…." he says weakly.
"It's okay," Hunk says, still applying steady pressure along Keith's spine, "It's fine, dude. It's good to get it outta your system, trust me. Do you feel a little better? You want to sit back?"
Keith's body quakes again, stomach twisted into burning knots. It hurts. He doesn't feel better at all. He's scared that he's going to be sick again, and doesn't answer.
"Take another deep breath, man," Lance says.
He scoops back a few wayward strands of Keith's hair when it falls across his face, his other hand keeping the rest gathered up out of the way. Keith lifts a trembling hand to wipe his mouth. The smell is… really not helping him feel like he's not going to throw up again. He doesn't even want to try opening his mouth to tell either of them this, doesn't want to breathe through his nose and have that sharp, sour smell hit the back of his throat.
When he barely manages a shaking breath before making a choked noise, Lance lets go of his hair and grabs him under the armpits, hoisting him up.
Keith doesn't get the chance to protest. He's bigger than Lance now. Heavier. He doesn't know where Lance finds the strength to move him - Keith's stumbling feet hindering him, searching for purchase on the ground, hands gripping onto Lance's arms - but he does it, even if it's just a couple of feet. Pain jolts through Keith's side, right through his empty stomach.
Then Lance is easing him back down, against the wall again. It's a different spot, not warmed with body heat; cool dirt against Keith's back and under his hands when he lets go of Lance's arms.
That feels better, a little.
Lance pushes his hair back from his face again.
Carrying the light, Hunk quietly moves to sit at Keith's side. The nausea passes with several slow, deep breaths just like Hunk said it would. The pain is deeper though, a sharp throbbing in his stomach. They keep the light on for a while, set aside. When Keith closes his eyes it casts a warm glow against the back of his eyelids, and it is much more comforting than the darkness.
He doesn't know if he can do this.
Keith opens his eyes.
Hunk and Lance aren't paying attention to him, murmuring to each other across him; Hunk's voice low and worried, Lance's louder, agitated. Keith hadn't even noticed. They break off when they realize he's watching them. Lance's brow creases and he says Keith's name, muted and dull when it reaches Keith's ears, black creeping at the corners of his vision.
A sharp jolt snaps him back.
Lance shakes him by the arm. "Keith."
"Sorry," Keith murmurs again, the word slurry.
"C'mon, buddy, you can do this. Let's start that word game again, Hunk can go first. We'll do animals this time. Keith?" Lance shakes him again and Keith blinks open his heavy eyes, surprised by how bright and blue Lance's are in the dimness. He doesn't quite understand that they're shining with tears. Lance's eyebrows are pinched together, mouth turned down into a thin line. His voice rakes against his throat, "Keith. You gotta keep talking to me, okay? Just hold on a little longer, please."
All Keith can manage is a small hum.
He knows Pidge and Allura are coming. He knows they'll be here soon. He knows he has to stay awake. It's just so hard. He hurts so bad, but even that is dampening under his exhaustion.
Keith squeezes Hunk's hand and realizes he's been holding it for a while. He doesn't usually do that. Keith looks down at it, and finds Hunk's other hand resting low on his arm, tapping out a nervous rhythm with the tips of his fingers against the plate of Keith's armour.
"What…." Keith swallows hard, choking back the taste in his mouth, "What even starts with...A."
"Aardvark starts with two As," Hunk says readily, his voice a little thick, "Do I - do I get bonus points if it starts with a double letter?"
"Sure," Keith says, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"So," Lance says softly, "Um. B… Uh." He hums a couple more times, shifting around. He taps Keith's arm gently, but insistent. "Keith, what starts with B?"
"Basket," Keith says, his eyes falls closed.
"Keith. What starts with C?"
"Casket."
It comes out on a breathy laugh, because it does start with C, because it rhymes. Lance and Hunk don't think it's very funny. They yelp, "No!" and, "Keith!" and they grab at him.
He feels a little bad for saying it.
He feels like he's sinking.
Keith's head is nodding. He tries to lift it up - he can't remember who's turn it is - and something wet and warm catches the corner of his jaw.
Breath fans across his face in a series of short whimpers, and then Keith's smiling face is getting licked in earnest. It takes him several long moments to realize that it's Kosmo. The wolf rubs up against him, butting his head against Keith's. A huge paw digs at his shoulder, trying to get Keith's attention. He licks Keith's neck, cold nose poking at his side and making Keith startle in pain. Low pleading whines keep huffing out with each exhale as Kosmo sniffs and nudges him.
Keith finally gets one of his arms up and drapes it around Kosmo's neck. He receives a small, affectionate nip under his jaw for the effort and drops forward to press his face into the soft fur, breathing in the wolf's familiar scent.
"Hey, buddy…" he murmurs.
Kosmo presses his weight down, trying to climb into Keith's lap. Lance eases him off before he can hurt Keith on accident, keeping one hand on the wolf and one hand on Keith. That hand on his arm, slipping carefully behind Keith's back, is the only thing that steadies him when the wall vanishes. There is that familiar sensation over his skin - like holding pop rocks in his mouth and chasing it down with soda, prickling all through his insides - like sitting on the front porch and watching the dirt road turn a deep darkening orange with the sunset, waiting for Dad to come home.
The stifling dimness of the cave is gone, and the interior of Black's cargo hold is glowing around all them, familiar voices and careful hands pulling him up, reassuring him.
And Keith finally, finally, let's go.
-x-
(A/n) I am woefully predictable, but at this point? Is anyone surprised? I signed up to get a Bad Things Happen Bingo Card (because I am never content unless I've got five different things going at once, and because it looks interesting!), so I might drop all of those in with this one just to keep things organized and all that juicy painful stuff in one place, depending on how motivated I get. I want to try and branch out a little bit with the characters I'm writing for, so you guys can always hmu if you have any requests! Reviews are always appreciated!
-bobtac