It was beautiful, the Earth.

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he lay bleeding, on his back, looking up at it. The ground beneath Lance was hard and cracked clay, not the soft sand of the endless shallow ocean like he'd remembered. But the stars. Those were the same. Infinite, uncountable, living, breathing galaxies stretching endlessly before him.

And in the centre, far above him in that dome of clear night sky, the shining jewel of the universe. Everything he loved. Earth. It rose majestically before him like the moon, in glorious luminessence, looking down upon him as he slowly died in his dream.

Lance felt the last nagging sensation of pain in his abdomen ebb away towards total numbness. He was glad. He was no longer afraid. Not of crabs ripping themselves from his flesh, or monsters drowning and strangling him. He'd finally done it. His body was heavy. His fingers were growing cold. There was no water to keep him warm.

Blood seeped out of his stomach with every heaving gasp and Lance closed his eyes, rolling his cheek into the dry earth of the former swamp. His breath puffed a small cloud of fine particles into the air, and specks danced before his eyes, glittering in the starlight.

All around him was dust.

No fog.

No trees.

No water.

Only floating dust and endless starry sky.

There was a thumping noise near him, beside him, his dull consciousness barely aware of it. He could ignore it, he thought. He was so close to death. He was ready to let go and drift away.

This felt different, this death.

He was no longer scared.

That was it.

He wondered where the others were...


"Where is Lance?"

The words came from Allura, but they were on everyone's mind.

She was staring down the table at the empty chair beside Keith. It was long past the time that she could be justifiably annoyed that her food was getting cold, and the silent discomfort amongst them had been growing steadily since the both of them came back from the ice planet, but Keith said Lance was going to change.

Lance should have been there by now. Allura shifted in her seat.


The dull thumping continued. No, it wasn't his heartbeat, he concluded. It was coming from the ground, off to his left. He could hear the dry, delicate clay breaking under the force of impact.

Thump. Thump.

Like a dying fish fighting for water on dry land, the noise continued its irregular rhythm.

Thump. Thump.

Curiosity got the best of him. Lance summoned enough energy to roll his head over to the other side.

Ah.

There it was.

About time you showed up , he thought.

The monster was no longer terrifying. It was pathetic. Just like him.

Its enormous black body was flopping helplessly on the ground, withered and lethargic, trapped in the crusted earth. Its eye stalk lay in the hardened dirt, dust muddying the corner of it like dark tears. Still, it stared at Lance, unblinking.

Soon? Lance guessed, staring back at the weakly writhing creature.

Ah, yes. Soon.

Despite the numbness in his lips, Lance smiled. He couldn't help but feel a small, smug sense of satisfaction. Soon, it would be over. Soon, he would wake up.

"Fool," said the monster.


Allura was staring at the clean spoon in her trembling hand. Eyes flickered around the room, bouncing between her and the doorway. No one said anything. Coran held her gaze apologetically. Allura placed the spoon back down beside her uneaten meal.

I'm worried , she sent to Coran, her unspoken thoughts transferred by Altean biology.

I know you are, Coran's eyes flashed in return, We've given him time. Something is wrong.

"You two are being psychic again," said Pidge, impatiently, "It makes me uncomfortable. If you have something to say, say it."

Allura bit her lip. Coran nodded to her silently.


The air was devoid of any humidity, and the pool of spilled blood under his body was seeping into the dry ground, quickly turning from bright red to eerie black. His lips were chapped, and they stung with every jagged breath Lance took. He was incredibly thirsty.

But there was no water, only blood.

He could see the hot red liquid dribbling out of his wound, though thankfully he could no longer feel it. If he moved his eyes, vision swimming, head aching, he could still see the knife, moving up and down in his abdomen in time with his slow and rattling breath. Strange, being able to see it, but no longer feel it. Strange, but not unwelcome.

"Fool."

The monster flapped and wriggled helplessly off to his side, twisting and slithering in the dust. Its dry, leathery tentacles reached out to him, but came up short. They ended just a few feet away, shrivelled and helpless, desperately stirring at the broken ground.


Keith was fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat, food untouched, completely unable to sit still. His head kept flicking towards the doorway expectantly.

"You said he'd be right down," said Pidge.

Keith's mouth twitched.

"Do you think he fainted somewhere?" asked Hunk.

Keith's eyes were wide and darting around the room.

"Keith?" Allura prodded, "Did anything happen after I sent you my transmission? Why were your radios shut off?"

Everyone was staring at Keith now, and Keith had turned bright red. His whole body was shaking in his chair.

"He was fine all of today!" Keith stammered, "Allura, he was running around and throwing snowballs!"

"No one is blaming you, Keith," said Shiro, gently, trying to calm the tension in the room.

"I am!" said Pidge, "What if running around in the snow just made Lance sicker? Hunk and I have been working our asses off for him for weeks , and you take him out and give him hypothermia! Need I remind you that I have put my life on fucking hold for you two-"

"HE WAS FINE!" Keith slammed his fists on the table and Pidge was suddenly silenced.


You're dying , he thought, staring at the creature as its twisting appendages grew weaker and weaker. He had no will or energy to speak, but he knew the monster had understood.

I'm killing you.

Lance's vision was growing dark. The glowing Earth above him was blurry and faint.

Almost there.

He wondered where Keith was right now, and how much of their day had been real. When did he fall asleep? Had they really kissed as much? Touched as much? Would he have to explain it all as a beautiful fantasy to Keith when he woke up?

"Fool," said the monster.

Fool? How so? He'd figured out what he needed to do. He would wake soon and find Keith and the rest. This was how it worked. Unless…

"Fool."


"He said he'd be right down!" Keith shouted as he pushed his chair over in his haste to get up, spoon clattering to the floor, "I shouldn't have left him!"

"Keith, where are you going?" asked Shiro, his voice carrying heavy implication, "Don't just walk away, Keith."

Keith was halfway out the door and Shiro was ineffectively trying to convince him to stay, but Keith refused to even turn around or acknowledge him.

"He said he was gonna change. That's where I'm going."

Keith was gone. Shiro was rubbing his temples.


It was all real, wasn't it?

Everything was real. The ice planet, Keith, the hangar, the bedroom. It was all real.

And he'd stabbed himself.

He wasn't in the swamp, seeing an endless desert and a galaxy of stars. He was on the main bridge. And he was bleeding to death. Lance felt a last sickening wave of nausea coursing through his body.

"Fool," said the monster.


"Fine, we'll split up," said Allura, staring down the table at the rest of the Paladins. It felt good to finally come to action. They'd been sitting in unbearable discomfort for far too long.

"They both came from the Hangar," said Shiro, "I'll go check there."

"I'll check medical bay," said Hunk.

They both left the dining hall and split in opposite directions.

"Pidge, Coran, you scout the rest of the castle for any sign of Lance," Allura commanded, "Check everywhere. We have no idea where he may have wandered off."

Coran nodded. Pidge shrugged, but she looked relieved at being able to do something now.

"And you?" asked Pidge.

"I will stay here in case he arrives," Allura sighed, resigning herself to stay put when she dearly wanted to search with the rest of her team.


He was angry, he realised. This couldn't be happening. He wanted to live! He wasn't ready to give up just yet!

He wanted to see his friends one more time! Touch their hands! Hear their voices! He wasn't ready to die alone in space! Pointlessly. Uselessly. Gone.

You did this! It's your fault! You tricked me!

His thoughts were fire and he could see the monster writhe and shrivel from his anger, its giant eye wincing shut in submission, its tentacles curling back upon themselves in tight spirals.

I hate you.

"Fool."


Left alone, Allura could only pick at her nails and think. Had she been too harsh on Lance? Was he doing this deliberately to scare them? He'd complained so much before now that they hadn't paid him any attention or acknowledged his illness.

And, she admitted, with slow and heavy sadness, he was right.

When had Lance finally convinced her that he was truly ill? She'd barely allowed Pidge and Hunk to divert their attention from full-scale assaults on Zarkon to working on the medical pod for Lance.

She was selfish. She was blind. And now, perhaps, she was too late.

Allura clutched her cup in her shaking hand, hearing the fading footsteps of her fellow paladins echo in the hallways.


They were both dying. With every part of Lance that weakened, the monster grew more tired and still.

Good, thought Lance, Say your prayers and meet your maker.

The monster had taken everything from him. But Lance had made the final blow. He'd taken his death into his own hands. Should he be proud of that? Lance couldn't help but pause.

Maybe it was the half-ignored lectures in sunday school haunting him, or some form of divine punishment, but it didn't feel right. He didn't feel brave. He just felt scared and alone.

Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo.

Santificado sea tu nombre.

The old, familiar words flowed through Lance's mind from the back of his memory as the monster slowly blinked its dry eye in the dust.

Venga tu reino.

Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo.

Lance stared at the Earth silently hovering overhead, and his thoughts drifted back towards home. He wondered what his mother was doing right now. Was she driving to church, humming along to the radio? Was she on the phone with his aunt? If she were here… would she sing to him like she used to?

Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día.

Perdona nuestras ofensas,

Lance thought about all the time he'd spent with his mother in church when he was a child, and the fallout they'd had when he finally said he no longer wanted to go. The long fights, the silent car rides, the strained holidays, and then, eventually, the slow and gradual acceptance from his mother, coloured by her unwavering conviction that he would come around again to the faith.

como también nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden.

No nos dejes caer en tentación y líbranos del mal.

Well, it was true now, wasn't it? Here he was, dying and begging at the door of his religion, wrestling the idea of his eternal damned soul. Would it be better to fade to black and then nothing more? The closer he got to death, the more Lance didn't want there to be nothing after he died. It seemed lonely and pointless. But, if God awaited him and heaven was real… Would he even be good enough to enter?

Amén.

Lance coughed a watery sigh. His mother was right. There were no atheists in foxholes.


Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharply pitched squeaking. One of the mice was scurrying into the dining hall and running towards the foot of her chair in a panic. It pawed and scratched at the hem of her dress, clambering to get up to her.

"Calmly, tiny one!" she cooed, "I can scarcely understand your thoughts!"

Allura reached down and cupped the frantic little creature in her hands, bringing it level with her face.

The mouse was clearly scared and exhausted, having dashed through the entire castle to reach her. She could feel its tiny heart and lungs pumping in its quivering body as she held it in her hands.

"The main bridge?" gasped Allura, "Why there?"


I hate you. I'm glad you're dying. If nothing else, you don't get to live.

He had no strength left to pull himself up, no will to keep fighting for breath. But he had his hatred. And his pettiness. Lance glared at the dying monster as it whined softly in the dust. If he wasn't going to get into heaven, he was certainly not going to go easy.

I hate you.

I hate you.

Die with me. Go to hell with me.

Suffer with me.


Keith was bursting out of his bedroom as she passed through the hall.

"My knife is gone!" he shouted, "Why would he take it!?"

Keith nearly slammed into her as skidded to a halt, grabbing her arms.

"He left his helmet in my room! No wonder I can't radio him! Allura, I'm sorry! I don't know what happened! He was with me the whole time on the planet! He seemed fine! I don't know what I did!"

Keith was pulling at her sleeves as he shouted hysterically and she could feel his spit on her face. Allura blinked and struggled for something to say, but suddenly Keith was pulling away and into a sprint down the hall in the opposite direction.

"Keith, where are you-?"

But it was no use. He was already gone.


He was growing cold. His anger could no longer sustain him. He was too weak to cry, too tired to breathe. The stars twinkled in the sky, and for a brief moment, they looked like the glowing electric lights of the main bridge's dashboard.

The Earth rotated silently overhead. He missed Keith.


Allura tried to ignore the first tiny droplet of blood she saw on the upper stairway of the castle halls. Surely it was just a piece of dirt. It was small and dark and she was moving as quickly as she could. She didn't have time to stop or look back..

It was past medical bay, where Hunk had already left to comb the other hallways, that she found another dark drip splattered on the floor. It was blood. It was drying blood. Was his nose bleeding again? Why not come to them and get help? What was he doing with Keith's knife? Surely he hadn't… oh, who was she kidding. Of course Lance would find a way to injure himself.

Allura picked up her skirts and hurried her pace as her heart thrummed in her chest. Her earrings rang with nervous reports from the other paladins. No one could find Lance. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Everyone could feel it.

Up another set of stairs, and another streak of blood, smeared by a footstep. This was Lance, no doubt. She was getting closer. Why hadn't he called for help? His behaviour was so erratic lately, she-

No.

She hadn't been paying attention. She'd been caught up with her plans of attack, and her selfishly clandestine romance with Shiro, and she'd let Lance fall completely by the wayside.

Allura felt a sharp pang of guilt rotting in her gut. She'd make this right. No more ignorance, no more avoidance. She'd get to the bottom of this.

At the top of the stairs, the doors to the main bridge were open. Odd , she thought. And a glow was coming from inside. Who had left something on? Pidge?

Earth. The celestial map was showing her the human paladins' home planet, rotating in exquisite detail overhead, nearly filling the room with its vast projection. And under it...


It was no use. His willful hatred only drained his energy further, only deepened the hollow feeling within him and made him miss his friends and family even more. He didn't want to be angry. He didn't want to feel so alone. He just wanted to live.

Sorry we both had to die, thought Lance.

"Sorry?" said the monster.

Lance gazed into its eye, watching its pupil slowly lose focus.

He wasn't ready to forgive.

But he could try to accept both their fates.

There was a new sound. Another rhythm, but not the monster. Footsteps? Soft, but quick. Someone was behind him, above him. He hadn't the strength to turn and see.

The monster didn't react. It was still squirming helplessly in the dust.


"Lance!"

Allura's voice seemed separate from her body, as if someone else had said it. The sight of Lance crumpled on the steps of the bridge in a pool of blood utterly consumed her attention.

"He's on the bridge!" Allura was screaming the words into her radio. She found herself bending down and grasping at his frail and limp body. Up, off the hard ground and into her arms, she pulled him close before she quickly reeled back in horror. Keith's knife was protruding grotesquely out of Lance's abdomen.

Allura had no time to consider what had happened. What had led up to this moment. Slowly, the planet Earth rotated above them, its softly marbled blue-green glow casting a sickly pale light over Lance, and Allura knew from his sallow skin and freezing body that he didn't have much time left.


White hair and dark skin. Beautiful. Softer than he'd ever imagined. Her hand on his cheek was warm, and comforting, sending tingles of fleeting sensation through his numb body. It reminded him of home. She shone like a fiery sun, and her anguished face was beyond divine. She was lifting him, holding his head in her lap, gazing down upon him with such dedicated sorrow. She didn't seem to notice the monster next to them.

He worried for a moment that his blood would ruin her dress, but she only held him closer in her gentle arms. Like a mother cradling a child, she stroked his forehead, brushing his dirty hair out of his eyes.


"Hey there, beautiful. Glad you found me," whispered Lance, his half-lidded gaze struggling to focus on her, pupils rolling dangerously into the back of his head.

"Lance! What happened! What are you doing!?" Allura shut her eyes tightly as tears welled within, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest against Lance's cold, limp body.

"Dying," Lance smiled weakly, as if it were all a delirious joke.

"Why?"

It was all Allura could do to breathe that single word. She'd failed him. She'd ignored him, and pressured him and pushed him aside and and now he'd taken his own life. She'd failed her paladin in every way...

"I thought I had to die in my dream to wake up. But…"

"You're not dreaming, Lance, you're dying, " Allura sobbed.

"I know." Lance slowly closed his eyes.

"Lance, why? "

"I made a mistake. I didn't mean to. Please. I want to live, Allura. Tell Keith I want to live, ok? Put me back in the pod if we still can."

Lance's voice was low and rambling, and she could scarcely understand his slurring speech, but Allura was barely paying attention anyway. She'd made her decision. She was already drawing upon all of her energy, concentrating, remembering the sacred rites of the royal bloodline, and preparing herself physically and spiritually.

"What're you doing?" mumbled Lance, noticing the sudden stillness of her body, moreso that she'd stopped petting his hair.

"Something I should have done a long time ago," said Allura, her voice grim and full of determination.

"I was selfish before, but I will not lose you now. Lance, I'm so sorry I didn't act earlier. I was caught up in our mission and the castle and I completely looked past how you were. I was only thinking of myself and my hatred of the Galra. You were suffering and I ignored it. I ignored you. I was wrong."

Allura's hands began to softly glow, and as her concentration deepened, that inner light spread throughout her entire body, until she was shining with a powerful sacred energy.

"I will give you a portion of my life-essence, Lance. A few years off of my lifetime will mean nothing to me. You will not die here and now. I promise."

She leaned in and kissed him on his forehead, and her inner light began to flow into him, lifting his body from the firm grasp of death. Lance's mouth curled up in a warm smile.

"If I get held by a beautiful princess like you," whispered Lance, "I'll be sure to die more often."

Allura smiled as she brushed aside Lance's delirious flirting. Sinking further into her meditative state, soon to be lost in the essence of her race's ancient healing ritual, Allura made one last psychic cry to Coran and the four mice in the castle. Then she closed her eyes, settled her thoughts and began the deepest healing trance she had ever attempted on her own.


"I'm here now, Lance."

Allura's form had grown more clear and solid next to him. She was no longer a translucent ghost held together by wisps of light. She was real and she was sitting in the broken clay desert with him, holding him in her lap and looking down at him with a serene grace.

"Is all of this real?" asked Lance. Allura cocked her head to one side, softly smiling at him.

"You are dreaming," said Allura, calmly rocking him in her arms, "And I am dreaming with you."

Her whole body was glowing, and as her hand brushed his face, he felt her inner light flow into him, and her warm healing touch soothe away the agony of his impending death.

"Are you sure you're not the monster here to kill me?"

"Monster?" Allura was taken aback, and Lance hazily remembered that in all the time he was sick, he hadn't properly explained anything to her.

"What monster?"

"The monster in my mind." Lance rolled his head slowly over to his left, where the tentacle monster lay, gasping and writhing. Allura looked over, and her eyes widened in shock.

Lance could do nothing but breathe.

It was real. She saw it. Relief washed over him and Lance shuddered under her touch. It was real. He was right. It was real.

"Is that what has caused your nightmares? That creature?" she asked, staring at the dying monster.

"Yes."

She saw it. It was all real.

Lance started crying.

"Are you hurting?" Allura asked, and the light from her hands temporarily wavered.

"No," said Lance, "You just... You have no idea what it feels like to have someone actually believe you instead of thinking you're faking or crazy."

Lance felt a splash of wetness on his face. Allura was weeping with him. He wanted to comfort her, to reach up and brush the tears from her eyes, but his body refused to obey him. And so he watched her. Gratitude flooded through him. And he watched her.

He watched her as she poured her own life-energy into him, and he could feel warmth and strength and will returning to him. Death was now only a memory, not an inevitability.

And still her gaze wavered back, over to the monster.

She looked upon it, not with anger or contempt, but with pity. Why? Why was she even looking at it? It couldn't hurt them where they were. She should ignore it, and heal him, and let it die. Let them both return the world of the real and the living. Yet Allura kept staring at the struggling monster. Lance couldn't help himself. He resented her for it.

Allura took one of her hands off of him, and Lance shrank, begging for that comforting touch to return.

She was reaching her arm out towards the monster.

No. Why?

But Allura continued to reach out, beckoning, her palm outstretched. Her eyes flashed with hidden thoughts, and he saw the monster twist and groan and nod its grotesque head in recognition.

The monster gathered its strength and thrust its longest tentacle out. Slowly, it slithered that one single ropey arm towards her, pouring its strength into that final lonely task. Closer and closer, it crawled itself towards them and Lance winced as he watched it carve tiny wavelets in the fine clay dust of the desert. Closer. And then…

Allura reached out and grasped the reaching tentacle of the monster, and it curled itself around her palm and wrist.

Lance couldn't believe what was happening, he wanted to fight or flee in disgust, but he needed Allura to heal him. His heart now beat angrily in his chest, and his will to live was surging through him. He wasn't going to give up now! He refused to be tricked or defeated by the monster ever again!

Allura's eyes began to glow, and still the healing energy poured out of her, now into the both of them. Lance, and the monster.

Lance watched as the monster shuddered, observing in it that quiet sensation of relief that he'd felt in his own body upon feeling Allura's kind touch. She was healing it as well. Why?

"Allura?" he whispered.

Allura looked down on him, and her face was no longer serenely compassionate. It was cold and blank. It wasn't cruel, but it was certainly alien. Lance was frozen in shock as terror seeped through him.

"Fool child," she spoke, her voice metallic and empty, and Lance knew that her mind was no longer her own. Allura was gone.

"You're the monster," was all he could gasp.

Allura nodded to him, and he saw the monster tighten its grip around her hand. He looked down its arm at the body of the monster and saw its eye, still endlessly fixed and unblinking upon him.

"Your anger, child. It drives you. We are not so different, after all."

The words came from Allura's mouth, but Lance was speaking to the monster now. It was talking to him! More than cryptic threats and whispers! Suddenly thoughts flooded his mind. He wanted to say everything, ask everything, demand explanations for what had happened! What was the monster? Why was it haunting him?

"We mourn as you mourn," said the monster through Allura, "This is our last. Flesh of our flesh, we end with you."

We? Was it killing Allura too?

"Who are you? Allura are you- is Allura dying?"

"No. We are many, you who only see us as one. It is our nature to be many and one at once."

Many. The creature was more than one? Like, different brains and personalities? No wonder it was so confusing to deal with. No wonder it never seemed to be able to make up its mind with him.

"And we are already dead. It was you and the sharp one who made it so." Lance quietly nodded. He and Keith had started this whole mess. As much as he hated the monster, it did have a good reason to be angry with him.

"How did you get into my dreams? Why are you trying to kill me? Isn't it enough that I'm already sick?"

Allura cocked her head to the side questioningly.

"Sick? It was never meant to be so, but your body has proven to be incompatible," she shook her head slowly, "As we were dying, we gave you our last hope. The flesh of our flesh. And the seed of our memory. All of our history, all of our many lifetimes live within you."

"History?" asked Lance, floored by the fact that he not only had an alien living inside of him, but a ghost alien, "How old are you?"

"The first of us was there in the beginning, and every borne one that came after. Our memories stay within the seed, passed on to the flesh of our flesh. They must know our history. Who we are. The chain has been unbroken since our dawning."

Lance suddenly thought back to a dumb song that Hunk used to sing under his breath when he tinkered in their dorm back at the Garrison.

" For billions of years since the onset of time, every single one of your ancestors has survived. Every single person on your mom and dad's side, successfully looked after and passed on to you life. "

Funny to think about. That he and the monster were the result of evolution and unimaginably long spans of time. From dinosaurs the cavemen to his own birth, Lance was just one in a unbroken chain of living beings.

"But you have broken it. You and the sharp one. Our history, our memories will end. You were imperfect, but we had no choice. We had hope, but you have proven to be incompetent."

Well, that was just insulting. He'd tried his best to stay live, hadn't he? Biting Keith, notwithstanding. And... the memories. His nightmares of the swamp. His hallucinations of water. They weren't just dreams. They were memories?

"Flesh of our flesh, this is our end!"

Flesh of our flesh . It kept saying that over and over through Allura's mouth. Like an infection? Or-

"The born ones! They will eat through your body and you will die."

Wait.

"And as punishment, they will die. You beings do not live in water. Breathe in water. You are drywalkers. The born ones will suffocate from your death-"

That meant...

"Babies?" The word felt strange on his lips as he said it out loud. "You mean… I've got your babies inside me?"

Time seemed to stop momentarily as Lance's hand drifted up, slowly to his stomach. The shock of the revelation was sinking into him. He was pregnant. Like a girl. He was carrying little babies inside of him, and he'd been feeding them and caring for them unknowingly the whole time. The stomach pains. The hunger. He was keeping babies alive with his own body. Just like his mom did with him. Just like she did with four other kids. And now, they wanted to be born.

"The seed of memory was placed within you. It will die with you."

Lance felt a wave of sadness. Stabbing himself seemed so grossly inappropriate now. He'd almost killed himself, and killed the monster's living legacy. No children. No memory. Gone.

Legacy.

The monster wanted a legacy. Just like Lance. It didn't want to be famous or important or go down in history textbooks. It wanted its babies to live so it could pass its memories down. The monster wanted a legacy, for the universe to remember that it once existed.

And if the babies died, their history would be wiped out.

"You just want to be remembered, don't you?" Lance looked up into Allura's glowing eyes and then over at the monster that had grown increasingly still.

"All that we are, all that has been, lives within you. It ends with you."

Everything the monster had done. It wasn't just a nightmare, it was a memory . He had thousands, maybe millions of years of alien memories within him, screaming at him, telling him that the babies just wanted to be born. They wanted to live, just like him. They were completely different species, from different planets and different walks of life, and yet both of them, Lance and the monster, just wanted to live long enough to create a legacy.

"I'll do it," said Lance, softly.

The monster's pupil focused upon him and Allura's eyes narrowed over his head.

"No, I'll do it," he said, a little more forcefully, "I'll keep your babies alive, so… So they can remember you. Look, I'm sorry Keith killed you. It was an accident. I'm sorry all this happened and you've been trapped inside my brain and my stupid body. Trust me, I don't like it any more than you do."

He swallowed, not entirely sure of what he was doing.

"But," said Lance, "I'll do my best."

Well… How hard could it be?

He'd already been sick for months, got in his Lion and fought the Galra despite that, thought he was dying, and repaired his relationship with Keith. Really, remembering to heat up a bottle or put someone down for a nap was the least of Lance's concerns in the larger picture.

"Fool child. A child bearing a child. You know nothing!"

"Hey, I can do it, ok?" said Lance, finding his own strength and propping himself up onto his elbows, "I'm a Cancer. I'm the fucking mom-sign. I helped raise my little brother and sisters. I took care of our chinchillas back on Earth! And I know my mom would never let me get out of it if I got a girl pregnant, so I… I can at least try!"

"How would a drywalker keep them alive?" The monster used Allura's hand to point at Lance's face, and he felt a hot flush rising in his cheeks.

"I dunno!" said Lance, defensively, "I'll put them in water! I'll look after them! I'm just... I'm so tired of death." His voice grew weary, and Lance sounded much older than he was, "I don't want anyone else to die. I can't promise that I won't completely fuck this up, but I want to at least try. "

He felt the tension grow as the monster and Allura paused, and the air was completely silent. He wondered if the monster would just turn around and try to strangle him with Allura's bare hands.

Then, after too long, Lance felt Allura and the monster sigh together in resignation. After a moment, they spoke again.

"We cannot change what has happened. Our anger and grief at our sudden death has nearly destroyed us both. Keep them, fool child. Keep the flesh of our flesh. Of your flesh. And when they are strong and ready to bind into one-ness, bring them home. They will inherit the seed of memory, and we will plague you no longer."

He'd do it. He'd keep the babies and raise them until they were strong enough to live on their own, and then return them to the wild. It would be hard work, but it was fair. He wanted to do this. For the both of them.

Lance nodded, reaching out for Allura's free hand. But she offered the entangled one. After a breath of hesitation, Lance placed his hand over the monster's black tentacle, feeling its leathery skin once more. He told himself that he was no longer afraid. The creature released Allura's hand and wrapped itself around Lance. He felt his body instinctively tense, but he fought his panic and let the creature gently grasp him.

Its grip was gentle, and smooth, and it ran itself over his skin in delicate patterns that Lance didn't think the monster capable of. It seemed to be saying goodbye.

With that, the monster's grip lessened and its tentacle fell to the dry ground. It pulled back and retreated into itself, until its wriggling mass was nothing more than a tight ball of muscley ropes wound tightly around itself. Its body lay, still and calm, eye closed and peaceful.

"I don't think it's dead," said Allura, having brought herself back, and watching the monster with Lance. "I think it's just sleeping for now."

Lance swallowed. He'd just promised to take care of its children. For however long until they were grown and strong. He was going to become a parent. It terrified him. But he was also starting to imagine a life without nightmares. A life with his Paladin family, and, if he was lucky, a life that would be long and eventful and eventually let him return to Earth. It almost seemed too good to be true.

"Lance," said Allura, stroking his hair once more, "When we both awaken, I will help your mind store away the biological memories that the creature placed inside of you. The door that has been forced open in your mind… We will shut it now. Breathe easy. When the time comes, we'll give those memories to the children."

Lance nodded, and he felt an incredible reverence towards Allura, for her compassion and knowledge. For once in all of his sickness and his nightmares, he didn't feel so alone.

"Lance, I can feel their presence around us. Everyone is there. Keith is there. Are you ready to wake up?"

Lance took one final look up at the stars, up at the Earth shining down upon him from overhead. He wasn't going to die. He was going to live.

"Yes."


"Water," Lance choked, as his consciousness slammed back into his real body, "The babies have to be born into water!"

Everything hurt. From his head to his arms and legs and the grinding pain of the knife still stuck in his belly. He wanted to vomit from the white-hot agony, but he knew he didn't have the strength.

"He just spoke! He's alive! Oh my god!" Keith was standing over the both of them, his eyes red and bloodshot. He smeared his running nose on the back of his glove. His whole body was shaking.

"He was never dead, Keith," said Coran, gently, "Allura knows what she's doing."

Everyone was standing around him, their worried faces looking down on lance. It had become a familiar sight after so many months, but this time, he had an answer. This time would be the last.

"Babies? What's he talking about?" asked Shiro, from the back of the confused onlookers, but his question went unanswered as Allura began shouting orders.

"Coran! Run ahead to my quarters and fill the bath! Cool water, not hot!" Allura commanded, even as she held Lance in her arms, dress soaked with his blood, "Shiro, get a stretcher from medical bay to carry Lance. Quickly!"

Neith one questioned Allura's orders and both took off at a run.

Lance's body hurt. It hurt viciously. With the healing Allura had performed, Lance had regained every sensation in his body and the pain was almost unbearable. The knife was still buried deep in his abdomen and Keith, Pidge and Hunk were all staring at it with mixed horror. But, at the same time, Lance realised, the pain was good. It meant he was alive. And thankfully, wonderfully, Keith was by his side.

"Lance, what happened to you? Why did you stab yourself?" Keith was a mess, and lance knew he must have blamed himself for Lance's own hallucinations.

"Um," said Lance, and his mind was spinning and it hurt to take in breath or talk, "Keith, hold on. It'll be… a surprise."

"What?" He wanted to explain everything. But it was all so fast, and bright, and loud. Lance struggled with where to even start.

"I'm not dying," Lance gasped, "I thought I was, but… I'm not."

Keith was looking at him for answers, and when Lance was unable to give any, he looked to Allura. Lance heard her speak in low tones to Keith and Pidge and Hunk, but his brain was full of pain and fog and he just couldn't pay attention to what she was saying.

"How?" asked Keith, and Lance wondered what he was talking about as he knelt down in the drying pool of Lance's blood, anxious to help or hold him in any way, but visibly unsure of what to do.

"Keith, we need you to stand aside for a second," Shiro was back with a hovering stretcher, placing it down in front of him, readying himself to lift Lance onto it.

Lance screamed as Shiro pushed a little too hard, Hunk grabbing his ankles and Pidge steadying his midsection. And Keith was there by his head, placing his hands on his neck and shoulders, trying his best to calm Lance, trying to suppress his own fears and keep Lance in stable condition.

"We need to take him to my quarters. Don't touch the knife just yet," said Allura, and she and Shiro activated the stretcher to hover at waist-height.

"He's gonna be ok, right?" asked Hunk, as he and Pidge followed behind Shiro while Allura led the way down the hall.

"If we're quick and we're careful, he might just be fine," said Allura over her shoulder.

Lance could feel every bump and jostle shift the knife inside of him and he was moaning in pain, unable to stop himself.

"Keith! Keith!" Lance whimpered, "I don't know what to do. Please. Ungh. Help me. "

The sight of the knife stuck inside of him was making Lance dizzy. Keith was holding his hand, running beside him, wiping away his own tears and Lance could see how hard he was trying to focus, trying to stay calm. Keith's eyes widened and he turned to Lance suddenly.

"Star wars! Tell me what happens! Don't look down. Tell me what happens next in Return of the Jedi!"

Memories flooded through him like well-worn lessons. Dates and planets and factions and battles. Everything was organized and stored away in Lance's feverish obsession with his favourite subject. Even thinking about it made him feel calmer, safer as he bled steadily from the knife wound.

"Ewoks!" Screamed Lance, as Shiro and Allura turned a sudden corner and bucked the stretcher and pain surged throughout his body, "There are these tiny creatures called ewoks, and Keith, they're so cute and FUCK- Oh, god it hurts!"

"Keep talking, Lance, keep talking." Keith was still holding his hand, and his grip was firm despite its tense shaking.

"And they're fighting to-" Lance gasped, "Attack the shield station that's protecting the-"

Keith was staring into his eyes, nodding. He wouldn't let Lance look down, but Lance could see his eyes return again and again to his knife buried in his gut.

"They have to blow up- ngh- the second Death Star! It's fully operational!"

Now, somehow, they were in Allura's quarters, and there was a large bathtub full of water. Shiro and Allura nodded, lowering the stretcher into the tub. Lance sucked in a sharp intake of breath as the lukewarm water hit his wound, and his stomach was suddenly churning madly.

He wanted to faint and scream, and his forehead dripped with sweat from the pain.

"Keep looking at me, Lance. Keep talking," Lance looked into his lover's eyes and through the pain he was reminded of just how beautiful Keith's face was.

Lance was talking, but it was shortly becoming nothing more than noise and gibberish, and occasionally his anguished cries were drowned by Keith kissing him keeping his face in front of Lance's. And someone had their hand on the knife. He could feel it. Someone was pulling it out.

"Look at me, Lance. Look at me. Stay up here, look at me."

But he couldn't. His eyes drifted down and even as Keith tried to hold his body over Lance, he could see the knife emerge and the gush of blood that turned the bathwater bright red.

"Oh, god what is that? " wailed Hunk, from somewhere over Lance's shoulders. Lance finally pushed Keith out of the way just in time to see a thin black body escape the knife wound, oozing out of his stomach. It wriggled a bit and then slipped over the side of his stomach and fell into the water, burying itself somewhere underneath the small of his back.

"That's what was in Lance!?" Shrieked Keith, "Kill it!"

And in an instant, Keith had his bayard activated, and his eyes were searching the red water in the tub for the tiny alien.

"Keith, no!" Allura was shouting even as Lance could feel her healing hands on him, pouring her life energy into him once more.

"Look! There's a second one coming!"

Lance could barely feel anything below his ribs, the pain was so great. A second tiny body slid its way out of the wound and he could feel the cavity in his body decompress itself, and his insides grow still. It was a sort of hollow aftershock, the stillness. A strange feeling of nothingness after having grown so used to the movement and nausea.

Two. He had two. All this time he'd be caring for two little babies inside of him.

"Don't kill them," he whispered, trying to reach for Keith's arm, but Shiro had already grabbed Keith's bayard, preventing him from attacking them in the tub.

"See? I told you it was a surprise!" Lance coughed, and the Paladins looked at him in utter shock.

He felt the tiny bodies squirming under him, and eventually, one of them spiralled up his arm to rest on his chest. It was about a foot long and had short little legs and webbed feet. And when it coiled itself into a little spiral shape on top of Lance's chest, it peeked open its singular eye, blinking at him. Blue. Its eye was blue. Its sibling joined it, crawling up onto Lance's chest, and spiraling itself into a little ball around its twin, blinking into the bright lights of Allura's bathroom.

"Hello, babies," said Lance, feeling weak and sleepy. Allura was reaching into the water, and he could feel her healing touch surge through him, closing the wound that the knife had left.

Everything was becoming hazy, and Keith's face was fading in and out of focus in front of Lance. He was saying words, but Lance couldn't comprehend them. His eyes fell from Keith kneeling over him to the red bathwater and the two children of the swamp monster next to him.

"Look, Keith," Lance smiled down at the two creatures curled up and asleep on his chest in the water, "I'm not dying... I'm a daddy!"

And Lance fell back against the edge of the tub, his vision swimming and blackness overtaking him once again.