A/N: I don't really know what happened, but it's going to segway into some action. Finally, right? Next chapter up soon, probably. Review, favorite, follow, tattoo the name of this onto your body with goat's blood as ink or whatever. See y'all as soon as I dip further into my well of motivation.

The summer sun shines bright

But the messenger is blue

Hope dashed on the rocks

After Keith asked how he was going to get rid of Lance, Lance figured he would take care

of part of that himself.

The next time Lance had to pass Keith's cave entrance, he refused to look at it. There was no point in forcing him if he didn't, really didn't, want to go. Lance thought he was doing Keith a favor, giving him the option, and getting him to go outside because he was probably really lonely in that cave.

But… Lance guessed… he wanted to be left alone? Who would want that?

Lance came from a big family, and being a messenger meant being around people almost twenty four hours a day. It was so good, being around people, absorbing some of their ideas and become closer as a unit.

Lance glanced back at the cave's entrance. Then he turned and walked away.

Keith saw the whole thing.

He waited for Lance to come to the cave and fish him out, but Lance passed by, glancing back once, for a split second. Keith didn't go after him. Something pulled him back: an instinct taught to him by what he'd seen as a young prince watching the diplomats and his parents chat from behind a corner. Dig in your heels and refuse to back down, no matter how wrong you are.

Still, Keith stared at the spot where Lance had glanced back at the cave. The absence was too big to ignore. Cursing himself, he grabbed his coat and ran after Lance.

Before Lance could see him, he slowed to a walk. Lance turned, but he didn't smile, and the lack of one of his signature wide grins was almost as noticeable as his absence before. "Oh, hey, Keith."

Keith fell into step beside himself for the tidal wave of words that was sure to come. But instead their conversation was bone dry and about as pleasant and friendly as the Great Salt Springs of Tyfin, which seared people alive who dared to walk across the seemingly innocent sandy expanse.

Lance barely looked at him, which should have been Keith's job. Keith wondered if he should be the one to initiate the conversation, but quickly shook himself out of it. That was Lance's thing, he wouldn't intrude on that.

Let it be known that this is not what Keith should have done. Keith put himself on hold, teetering on the edge of a precipice, waiting for Lance not only to respond but to engage, to initiate, to embark on the dark ocean that separated their voices, when instead Keith should have been the one to choke down his pride and initiated.

Lance was a little confused as to why Keith came after him, but didn't question it. He couldn't really bring himself to look at him. It was no wonder that he didn't like walking with Lance and just wanted to get rid of him. Or maybe he was looking into it too much.

They walked in silence.

Keith sighed a little and chanced a glance at Lance. He almost toppled.

Lance's eyes look like a corpse's, usually so alight with life they could pass for either the sun on the ocean or fire in a blacksmith's forge had about as much enthusiasm as… well… as much as Keith typically gave their conversations.

Guilt, hot and heavy like lead settled uncomfortable on Keith somewhere above his stomach but below his lungs. He knew he hadn't been exactly palling around with Lance, but Lance hid just how much hurt he was holding when Keith said he didn't want him around.

But whispered a voice in the back of his mind but you didn't lead Lance on or anything like that. There's no reason for you to feel guilty.

There was some truth to that, Keith decided. It wasn't his fault. So why did he still feel so bad? The guilt wasn't dissipating like it should. Keith stared at the ground as silence stifled them. This was almost as bad the transformations. Lance looked for a second as though he might say something, but then gave a little shaking of his head like he was waterlogged and they kept walking.

It took Keith an embarrassingly long time to realize Lance had stopped. He looked back, surprised, and realized Lance was standing under the archway to a village. Keith had just walked in. Lance looked puzzled but then a cold and resigned determination passed over his face like a raven had just flown overhead, casting its shadow over his head.

"This is usually where you stop."

Keith pursed his lips. He didn't know what was going on with Lance, but there wasn't any need to sound so… cold. It was so unlike him to do anything like this, but a small gnarled part of him breathed in relief. Keith was free to go.

"Goodbye, Lance," was the only thing Keith said to him that day.

The silence surrounding Keith as he walked by himself was comfortable, at last, because there was no uncertainty in how he felt when he was alone, away from other people and wasn't the sunset beautiful…

Keith's eyes widened and hands- shaking- went into his hair like he was trying to make sure he was still human. He broke into a run. The cave, the cave, he needed to get into the cave. He'd been so focused on Lance he hadn't even realized and now people were going to suffer if he didn't make it back.

Keith's feet barely touched the ground as he started to feel the first pains of transformation. The cave was just over this hill, if he could just scramble in… this is what he got for trying to be friendly or whatever that was to Lance and now he was reaping the rewards of his mistakes.

If this is the reward for human interaction, said the small voice in Keith's head that so annoyed him Then there isn't any need for it at all.

Shut up, he told it.

Then the pains raced up his chest and over and over his skull, shrieking and POUNDING LOUDER AND LOUDER AND