The next morning had dawned bright and clear, and despite himself, Lance felt refreshed. He had overslept a tad and was almost late to the scheduled interviews. As he was hurrying after the butler leading him down to the hall, he was waylaid by Hunk and Pidge.
"Lance!" Hunk called from an adjourning hallway, followed by Pidge and a pretty maid in a neck brace. Pidge waved as the trio jogged to catch up with them.
"Hey!" Lance greeted back, unsure of where they stood after the previous night's spat.
Luckily, Pidge and Hunk were far more forgiving than he, as they rushed up and enveloped him in a tight embrace that had his back and shoulder twinging. Despite the pain, he squeezed back. He loved these two dearly and he wouldn't miss out on any form of physical affection. There was a reason that Ricky had called him "Cuddlebug" up until… Lance stopped that thought from going any farther.
"Whoa now!" Lance laughed, "I know I am the most lovable thing since baby bunnies, but I wasn't expecting this!
The two traded a glance.
"We were helping clean up HQ this morning," Pidge explained.
"There was shards of glass lodged three inches into the wall, Lance." Hunk added.
Lance swallowed nervously, seeing what he meant. If he hadn't turned and stepped away to shove Coran, hadn't been wearing his thick canvas coat… It could have been bad. Real bad.
"I'm fine." He told them sincerely.
"We can't lose you." Pidge told him, Hunk nodding along seriously.
"I promise I'll be more careful." Lance said, "I'll let you know the second I see anything."
"You saw some one? At the broken window?" The maid asked suddenly.
Lance had forgotten she was here. She had a bizarre mix of awe and stern disbelief on her face, an expression that Lance was all too familiar with when it came to these cases. Skeptics who have seen amazing things are still skeptics. They can watch you banish their own personal nightmares and still question if they were ever real in the first place. More often than not, they blamed him. For what, he couldn't be sure.
All Lance knew was that he helped people who had a very specific kind of problem and that they weren't always that grateful. He was even more wary of this maid because he hadn't even interacted with her as far as he knows. Why was she looking at him like she knew?
"I'm sure I did. I can't really remember what it was. But I must have seen something." Lance said vaguely.
"And while you were napping?" Pidge asked.
Lance sent him a strange look. It wasn't expressly forbidden to bring that up around others, but it definitely wasn't the stuff to talk about freely either.
"I don't know, she was shy." Lance recalled, "She was… falling petals and autumn leaves and duende, ya'know, like she was shooting stars."
Lance saw how confused the maid was and shrugged away his embarrassment. This was always the case with those who heard him talk about the dreams. He knows he is aware in them, but when he wakes he is only left with vague impressions of those he encounters. Little details and long lists of overly poetic analogies. He hated how pretentious it sounded. He wished he could remember details and tell them "I saw a blonde girl named Lisa and she was dead." But that wasn't the way it worked. Even Abuelita described her dreams in prose. She had published a book of poetry after nearly five decades of scribbling down descriptions of the dead she saw in her sleep.
"I see." Hunk said.
Lance was forever grateful to Hunk for believing him. He was the first friend to really try to understand his gift. Pidge still had issues with it, but accepted it as something that was tangible and not made up. He often made attempts of studying Lance's ability but that lead more towards irritation than to any sort of breakthrough.
"Anyway, let's get going." Lance said, starting off down the hallway, "Don't wanna keep the Countess waiting."
The others trudged after him and Lance felt a little silly about thinking he might be losing them. He was there leader. They had followed him through hell and back. He should know they would never leave him.
But what if they do?
Lance shook that thought off and put on a brave face as they reached the hall and made their way inside.
He was surprised by the number of staff waiting for them in the dining hall. Ten different witnesses. And they hadn't even had to search around and beg for stories from reluctant civilian or disgruntled historians. It was the most wonderful thing Lance had ever seen. He jogged over to join the table where everyone was waiting, ignored Keith's offer of the chair next to his and sat in between Shiro and Coran, nodding to them in greeting.
"So all the witnesses are here?" Shiro asked once everyone had been seated and the greetings had quieted down.
"All the witnesses with documented evidence." Coran clarified.
His statement was met with outcries of disbelief. Documented evidence was like gold in this business. More often than not, flimsy personal accounts and hearsay was the firmest clues they had.
"Documented how? Written records?" Shiro asked.
Coran set a laptop in front of them.
"With video." Coran said, "After the activity had gotten so bad, we gave the staff—uh head cameras? Is that what they're called?"
"You gave your maids Go-Pros?" Hunk laughed, "How expensive was that?"
"Well we only rented them for a week."
"So, ten recorded incidence happened in a week?" Keith whistled, "That is pretty crazy."
"How are we gonna do this?" Pidge asked gesturing his hand at the interviewees.
"Let's have them come up chronologically, you know by first incidence then the next, have them recount their experience. We'll take notes." Lance suggested. "Then we can watch the video with them have them explain what's happening. Then we go to the next."
"Great idea," Shiro said, "Let's start."
Coran had the staff introduce organize themselves and the first approached the table. It was an elderly butler that spoke only Romanian. With Coran as the translator, they were told how he was preparing a room for Allura to meet company in when a dish cabinet had tipped over from clear across the room and the room had filled with a retched stench.
"What did it smell like?" Lance asked.
Coran consulted the man and turned back to Lance.
"Like rotting meat, he says."
Shiro jotted several notes down. Rotting meat, bad eggs, sulfur… they all meant one thing, one very bad thing. Lance had done this before though. He could do it again.
But what if you can't? What if you're too weak to save them this time?
Lance shook his head a bit, trying to rid himself of the thought.
Next they watched shaky footage of the event. At first the screen was focused on the man's hands as they were setting out silverware on a table. There was a great crash and the video focused on some forks that had lodged themselves into the wall before whipping around to see the wreckage of wood and glass and porcelain. The man was gagging in the video before yelling something over and over before the door to the room burst open and some other people rushed in to check on the noise.
"What was he yelling?" Pidge asked.
"He was calling on the spirit of Count Alfor, Allura's late father. There is a legend here that the ghosts of past rulers stay to watch over and protect the household." Coran explained.
"I see. So it's common?"
"In a way, though certainly more so for the older generations."
"Great," Hunk muttered, "That's like opening a metaphorical door and inviting in the whole damn spiritual neighborhood."
Keith snorted.
Shiro called on the next witness. And the next. The stories were varied and undeniably recorded. Shadow figures, voices, flying objects and even knocking on walls that was clearly responding to questions. Each incident was recorded pristinely on video. This kind of evidence was unreal. Lance would have suspected it to be manufactured, except for the undeniable fear on the staff's faces. After the interviewee was dismissed, Coran showed them one last video. It was one they had already seen,
The possessed maid chanting their address.
"Wait a second… is that Shay?" Hunk demanded.
Lance turned back to the video. The maid's hair was longer, and her face was twisted into a cruel smirk that Lance couldn't imagine the gentle maid making, but it was definitely her.
"Yes," Coran answered, "She declined an interview, though. After Allura and I found out that address belong to a paranormal research team, we decided that we had to have you here."
"I can understand," said Hunk, "It must have been awful. I can't imagine she'd want to relive it."
"But her recount of it could be valuable information." Keith said, "Maybe you should ask her as a favor."
"What? Why would that work?" Lance asked.
"Hunk is sweet on Shay." Shiro answered.
Hunk spluttered but didn't deny it.
"Cute." Lance commented.
"So, now that the interviews are over, we can go over the list of reported incidences that had no evidence, then decide a plan for locations tonight?" Shiro said. They did just that.
They had the hot spot marked and decided the appropriate equipment to match the activity reported there. When Shiro had brought up the issue of their odd number of investigator (teams of two would leave someone alone and that was too dangerous but only having two groups left too much castle uninvestigated) things had worked out unexpectedly.
"That's okay," Lance had said, "I meet a guy here that said he'd show me around the underground levels. He was kinda shy though, so it's best I go with him. That way we have six people and three groups."
Keith looked a bit disappointed at that. Shiro had opened his mouth to ask just when Lance had time to meet anyone, having had only woken up late last night and spent the entire day with them, but was distracted when Hunk managed to accidently knock over an entire table of priceless equipment.
"I could have sworn I wasn't gonna bump it!" Hunk cried as they all rushed over to check on everything.
Nothing was damaged but by the time it was sorted, Shiro's mind was occupied by other things.
The first three days of their investigation were utter, entire failures. Not a single EVP, no orbs or shadows or spikes on the EMFs. Not even a mysterious creak as the castle settled. The teams were steadily becoming more and more agitated, and the staff seemed even jumpy than usual because of the sheer lack of activity. They had tried pairing off in different groups, except for Lance whom was firm in his resolve to investigate solely with his friend.
In light of the lack of activity, they were going through their own footage to scan for anything, when normally they would trade off so they could edit and catch up on each other's findings at the same time. There was no findings, so they edited their own.
"Lance is acting weird." Pidge told Keith over dinner one day.
Pidge pointed out where Lance was walking out of the room with a plate of food. It had been this way since the first night he had joined them at dinner. He had alternated between snapping at Keith and being sulkily silent as Keith and Shiro chatted amicably with Pidge and Hunk. They had tried to bring him into the conversation but he rebuffed them every time.
Ever since he had been eating alone.
"You need to bond as a team. He is still thinking in terms of 'Garrison University Paranormal Research Society' and 'Voltron Paranormal Investigators' when he needs to settle into 'Voltron Paranormal Research Society.'" Allura told them.
"Somehow I don't think our sponsor, Garrison University, will like the name change," Pidge joked.
"Plus, Lance is the only one not sharing a room with a member of the team. Nor investigating with one. This castle has a way of making people feel isolated, and right now he is only seeing his team at headquarters maybe for two hours a day." Allura added, ignoring Pidge's quip.
"So he's lonely and misses us?" Hunk pondered.
"Personally, I think we need to get him and Keith to work out their issues." Pidge suggested.
"He's the one who has issues. I like him just fine." Keith said.
"That settles it!" Shiro claimed, "Keith and Lance will have a one on one chat tonight before we begin our investigations!"
Keith nodded along, but pulled Shiro aside as soon as they left the dining hall.
"Do you really think that this is a good idea?" he asked.
"Can you keep your hands to yourself for tonight?" Shiro replied.
"Can you?" Keith shot back fondly.
"So you noticed?"
"Noticed how you were watching his ass while he was fixing the chords under your desk the other day? Oh yeah."
Shiro scratched the back of his head chuckling.
"Jealous?"
"No," Keith said sincerely, "Not if I'm invited."
"Always." Shiro told him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.
"Why are you two in my room?" Lance asked looking sourly at the two men sitting on the bed.
Keith smiled at Lance, hoping to come across as friendly. Shiro waved him over to the bed.
"Join us."
"Not gonna lie," Lance snarked at he kicked off his shoes and settled in the spot Shiro was patting between them, "This is the first time two men invited me to bed at once."
"You get invited into bed by men a lot?" Keith asked sharply.
Shiro could hear the mixed hope and jealousy in his tone, but Lance must not have because he stiffened.
"If you have a prob—"
"I don't!" Keith assured him quickly, "I just wondered."
"We actually came to change your bandages," Shiro claimed, "Keith has medical training."
"Most of them are just band aids," Lance told them suspiciously, "But, sure. Thanks, I guess."
"Take your shirt off and turn towards Shiro." Keith instructed.
Lance obliged, and Shiro eagerly took in the lean muscle and long planes of Lance's chest. He found the fuzzy trail of hair leading from just under his navel to the band of his incredibly tight skinny jeans absolutely adorable and—good Lord, Shiro thought, maybe the bed wasn't the best place to do this. Keith grabbed his med kit from the ground and arched a mischievous eyebrow at Shiro from over Lance's shoulder.
"So, Lance, I heard you knew Keith in college?" Shiro asked, trying to get to conversation going.
Keith grimaced at the bad choice in topics and started to gently pry to adhesive band aids from Lance's skin.
"Kinda." Lance grunted, "Weren't really friends."
"Oh." Shiro said, "Why?"
"Well, for one he refused to let me in to the GUPRS for no apparent reason. Which was, ya'know the entire reason I was at Garr U in the first place."
That was news to Keith.
"Keith, you can pull them a little harder, I won't break." Lance said light.
"Sorry," Keith said, stroking a red patch of skin on Lance's back where the band aid had caught on some hair, "I just don't want to hurt you."
Keith and Shiro both watched Lance's face tint pink in fascination.
He's lying, Lance.
Lance's brow furrowed. He was having these thoughts more and more often.
He wants you to suffer. He finds you annoying like a fly he wants to swat.
Lance pushed the thoughts back. He wasn't annoying. Keith liked him well enough.
"So you went to Garrison just to join the GUPRS? That's some impressing dedication." Shiro asked.
"Uh, yeah. I've always been sensitive," Lance told him, "My family encouraged me to pursue it if I wanted."
"You're sensitive?" Keith asked in surprise, "That wasn't on your club application."
"I thought you didn't remember me?" Lance asked slyly.
Keith blushed.
"In the interest of being honest," Keith confessed, "I do. I had a slight crush on you."
"Slight? Had?" Lance asked, perplexed.
He hadn't expected that, having just been teasing Keith. Suddenly all the meanness from freshman year made sense. He was pulling my pigtails, Lance thought.
He's lying, Lance. He is mocking you.
Was he? He was too confused to separate those thoughts from his own.
"Don't get cocky, okay?" Keith told him.
"Look, Lance! He's blushing!" Shiro pointed out, laughing as Keith flushed harder.
"So why did you turn me down?" Lance asked, before adding quickly, "For the GUPRS, that is."
"I'm going to put on some antiseptic now," Keith told him. "And it was for your safety."
Lance hissed a bit as Keith applied the stinging chemical across his back in one quick swipe.
"My safety?"
"Keith told me a little about his time at the GUPRS. It wasn't run nearly as well as you are running it."
"I figured from the lack of records from that time period and all the bogus expense reports." Lance agreed, "What was all that money really going to if not research?"
"Getting drunk around an ouija board, mostly." Keith said bitterly.
"What the fuck?!"
"I know. They wouldn't listen when I told them to stop, so I had to be there to protect the lowerclassmen from the higher ups that didn't believe in how dangerous their hazing was. I ended that shitstorm as soon as possible."
Lance seemed to considering his words for a moment. Shiro could tell this was a sore spot.
"I get it, but would it have killed you to have talked to me instead of assuming I was an idiot?"
"I should have, you're right. I just thought I was justified at the time… And up until I meet you all."
"So Pidge and Hunk are what changed your mind?" Lance asked in an odd tone.
"Yeah, that and—"
"So what exactly did they do that convinced you that I couldn't?" Lance demanded, jumping off the bed and pacing to the desk.
You're not good enough.
"What? That's not what I was saying," Keith refuted, also standing.
"What did I do to convince you I was worthless right off the bat?!"
You never were.
"Lance, what are you saying?!" Keith demanded, starting to lose his patience.
"My team! Is that what you want?!" Lance accused, jabbing a finger into Keith's chest.
YOU WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH.
"What the actual fuck, Lance? Are you insane?!"
Shiro stood, ready to intervene if need be.
"You turned me down eight times, Keith! But you love Hunk and Pidge the second you meet them!" Lance yelled at him.
"I already explained that! Fuck, just let it go!" Keith yelled right back.
"Yeah, well maybe I would let it go if you weren't doing it again!"
Lance was really worked up now. With his shirt off, Shiro could see how tense he was, the way he trembled in anger and jerked away as Keith moved closer.
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Keith snapped at him, "No one does! Hunk, Pidge… They are just as lost as I am about why you're acting like this!"
Lance shrunk back at the mention of his team. His mouth hung open.
"You've been talking about me behind my back?" He asked quietly, "With my friends?"
YOU WILL LOSE EVERYTHING.
The raw venerability in his voice cut Shiro deep. What could have possibly hurt Lance so badly to make him think this way? Make him think that they were trying to cut him off from his friends?
"It's not like that, Lance!" Keith was getting angrier now, "Why are you like this? Why do you think everything is about you?"
"Because this is! You just said that it was! If it wasn't then why aren't you smiling at me? Laughing with me?" Lance yelled back, voice thick, "Because you only want them! And that's what I'm scared of! You're stealing them away from me!"
"Shut up! Oh God, you're such a moron!" Keith growled, pushing Lance back against the wall and ignoring the way it caused him to hiss in pain, "I don't want to be your friend Lance! Not like I want Hunk and Pidge!"
There was a moment of eerie silence as Lance let that sink in, too shocked to reply. God, he hadn't thought Keith would confirm it like that. His head was filled with a cacophony of voices mocking him now. Over Keith's shoulder, he saw Shiro set closer to them, looking just as torn apart as he was. Lance didn't want his pity, though. In the end, Shiro would always choose Keith over him. He felt tears burn at his eyes and promptly turned away from Keith's face—close, he was far too close.
"Move," with Lance's voice, the tears overflowed. He felt them fall hotly down his cheeks and trace his jaw. He was trembling now. Keith reached out for his face and Lance flinched back violently. Keith wasn't deterred, taking Lance's face in his firm grip and forcing him to face him.
"No. You aren't leaving until we work this out." Keith told him.
"There's nothing more to say," Lance cried, "Let me go!"
Keith wiped away a tear with the rough pad of his thumb, noting the way Lance was full on shaking now from his little sobs.
"Stop crying," Keith ordered him, "Just breathe."
Lance gave up on replying, letting himself break down. His breaths came in quick gasps and he hardly noticed when Shiro had joined them until he rubbed a comforting hand down his arm.
"It's okay, Lance," Shiro said, "It's all okay."
"No!" he wailed, struggling against Keith's hold again, "It won't be!"
"Fuck, Lance!" Keith hissed, "Just listen!"
"I can't! I can't lose them!" Lance sobbed, pushing against Keith's chest, "Don't take them from me!"
"I'm not, just fucking listen!"
"Keith, please, yelling won't help," Shiro said.
Keith noticed the way Lance leaned in to Shiro's touches. He wanted Lance to accept him like that too, but this wasn't working. He had accidently pushed Lance into these hysterics, but that wasn't what he had wanted. The other man just had a way of pushing him to the edge until he lashed back. He hadn't meant to word it like that, or imply that wanted to take Lance's friends from him—and God, wasn't that a horrifying implication that Lance thought he could.
Now, though, Keith was at a loss of how to get through to Lance. He couldn't let Lance run away and stew in the miscommunications but Lance was too upset to hear him out. There's no way Keith could ask for permission the way he normally would. Thanks to Shiro's shushing, Lance was calming down slightly, but Keith needed to make his intentions clear to Lance.
"Lance," Keith said, drawing his attention, "I'm sorry for this."
Lance was blinking owlishly at him. Keith went for it. He leaned up and brushed his lips against Lance's, just for a moment before pulling back. Suddenly, the voices in Lance's mind went quite. Then Keith heard Shiro's breath hitch and saw the pretty tint of pink on Lance's teary face and decided that it wouldn't hurt to pull him back down for another one. Keith tangled his fingers in the hair at the base of Lance's neck and angled the taller boy down. Lance was frozen for a moment before hesitantly knotting his fingers in Keith's jacket and allowing Keith to kiss into his mouth. His back hit the wall again as Keith pinned his body with his own.
Shiro groaned as he saw the two boys' tongues meet between them. He hadn't expected Keith to make a move so soon, but he was glad Lance seemed to be accepting it so well, despite the situation. He felt a thrill go through him as he watched Keith drag helpless little keening sounds from the other. Shiro knew how talented Keith was with his tongue. When Keith pulled back again to leave a biting kiss just under his jaw, Lance clutched at one of Shiro's hands while Keith's hands stroked over Lance's bare chest.
Fuck, Shiro thought, the wounds.
Fuck, Shiro thought again, this is moving too fast.
Knowing he had to stop Keith from going too far but unable to resist getting in on the action, Shiro pulled Lance's face to his to leave a searing kiss. As he pulled back, Lance gave a little whine and leaned after him, chasing Shiro's lips. The thought that Lance was mourning the loss of his kiss nearly killed Shiro's resolve to defuse this situation before it got any worse.
"Good boy, Lance." Keith praised him, now finished leaving a deep red love bite under his jaw.
The two watched has the words visibly excited the man they had pinned to the wall, his breath hitching and eyes dilating. His hips ground against Keith's. Keith smirked and Shiro shifted as his pants were quickly become a bit too restricting.
"Lance, you've doing very good," Shiro couldn't help but adding, "But we don't want to take advantage of your emotional state, okay?"
Keith mumbled unhappily, but obliged by pulling away from Lance. With his flushed skin and bright eyes and tear-tracked face, Lance looked absolutely wrecked. His hair was mussed from Keith's fingers and he was shaking still.
Lance was having a hard time keeping up with his own emotions. His brain was hardly through trying to process his freak out, and not even nearly up to date on his newfound arousal.
"I—I don't," Lance stuttered, "Yeah, we should, um, yeah?"
"Eloquent," Keith teased, causing Lance to sputter unhappily.
"Keith," Shiro chided before turning back to Lance, "We should all take some time to calm down and think this through. This—this thing between us, Lance, me and Keith are serious about it. We don't just want to fool around with you or we would have approached you separately."
"Wait," Lance asked, "So you two are, like, together?"
Keith and Shiro traded amused glances.
"Kinda. We have an open relationship in a way. We rarely indulge in it, though; we're usually too busy with cases."
"Oh, I see." Lance said, sounding like he didn't.
"We'll talk about this more tomorrow." Shiro said, "We need to get ready for the investigation. Lance, do you think your partner can help you keep an eye on that wound?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll uh, I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Count on it." Keith said, eyeing him up like a hungry predator might look at prey that was limping away.
Something told Lance that talking wasn't the only thing that would be happening. Lance trembled in excitement.
Shiro and Keith walked out the door, leaving Lance alone with his emotional whiplash.
"Hey, Kadnes!" Lance called, jogging up to an empty spot in the hallway.
"Huh?" Lance asked, "Yeah, I brought the P-SB7 Spirit Box instead of the Ovilus this time. Do you think it will work?"
Silence answered him. Lance chuckled.
"Well, okay! You don't have to be so grumpy."
Lance turned on his camera and pointed it at a vacant wall.
"This is Lance and Kadnes and today we are investigating solo in the dungeons in total darkness again, so I have the night vision camera and the spirit box. We are hoping to catch some voices tonight. What were the dungeons used for, man?"
Nothing.
"Yikes, that pretty gruesome. Well, we are headed down now. Mind filling us in on some of the history on the way down?"
Lance ambled down the hallway away from the lights of the main way, chattering away to himself and the camera and the shadows. Soon, darkness enveloped him.