A/N:

Well, this is it. The last chapter. I know I've said this before, but thank you for supporting me throughout this entire story. It has meant the world.

It's been a pleasure flying with you.

A soft breeze, carrying the distinct scent of salt and the shore, beckoned him to the ocean. Rustling through his hair, it rushed over his skin like a refreshing wave and found a way to calm and excite him all at once. The gentle gust of wind tugged at his limbs and whispered his name like it was a forbidden secret, further enticing him. Entranced by the hypnotic sight of waves rising and receding on the sand, Lance stood, paralyzed, fifty feet away from the water. Blood orange rays exploded across the sky and over the ocean as the sun began its descent on the horizon, a promising start to a spectacular sunset, but Lance seemed to be the only witness to the approaching masterpiece. Once a tourist spot, Varadero beach, aside from him, appeared completely abandoned. Of course, the Galra had been overthrown just two months ago, and the inhabitants of the Earth had more pressing matters to attend to then visit the beach. But the lack of human life still felt chilling. Unused to the empty atmosphere, it appeared to Lance as if the whole beach were in mourning. Perhaps the destroyed hotels and cafés that sat, collapsing and shrouded in shadow, along the border of the beach produced the eerie aura that stretched across the beach like a veil of mist. Maybe it was the way that the waves themselves lapped against the shore, almost hesitant, and if one wanted to be poetic, with an air of sorrow. But deep down, Lance couldn't stop himself from wondering if he were only projecting his own disenchanted mood onto his surroundings.

Lance didn't hear Keith approach, nor did he really notice when the other Paladin stood beside him. Only when Keith spoke did the spell on Lance's thoughts dissolve, and he could fully acknowledge Keith's presence.

"What is this place?" Keith asked gently, his voice almost hushed.

"Veradero beach. I used to live about twenty minutes that way," Lance pointed to their right.

"Why are you here instead of there, where you used to live?" Keith inquired, tilting his head in the same direction that Lance had pointed.

"Why are you here?" Lance wondered, brushing off Keith's question. "Are the others with you? Do we have a mission?"

"No. I was sent to make sure you don't blow anything up," Keith elaborated, earning a scowl from Lance.

"Well, I wasn't planning on it," Lance retorted, crossing his arms. "Isn't sending you a guarantee that that would happen, anyway?"

Keith rolled his eyes, "That happened once, Lance. You, Pidge, and Hunk have blown up far more things than I ever have."

"Suuure, whatever helps you sleep at night," Lance raised his eyebrows sarcastically, but the light hearted banter felt like a preface to a much more grave conversation.

A comfortable silence elapsed between them, the only noise in Lance's ears the tantalizing sound of waves breaking against the sand. Conducting a war inside himself, Lance felt the sense of peace and overwhelming anxiety wrestle with each other for dominance. The impression of a sardonic smile twitched on Lance's lips, the thought of peace fighting with something incredibly ironic to him.

"You didn't answer my question," Keith noted dryly.

"You didn't answer mine either," Lance shot back, grasping at old childhood debate tactics.

"Really, Lance?" Keith shook his head, "I did answer your question."

"No, you didn't tell me why you're here. Anyone could have come to spy on me and make sure nothing catastrophic happened, why you?" Lance prodded. He hadn't really intended to ask that question, and in all honesty, he didn't need to, but it was his only stalling tactic.

"Because you're my right hand man, and I figured I should be the one to follow," Keith replied, sincerity radiating from his voice.

Lance avoided making eye-contact with the boy beside him and nodded.

"So, why are you here and not at your home?" Keith repeated.

Lance adjusted his stance, leaning on one foot then the other and back again.

"Well," Lance clenched his jaw and never let his eyes stray from the sky, which now had bright pinks mixed with the orange. "No reason, really."

Lance could feel Keith's eyes on him, and he braced himself for the skepticism that was sure to come. Instead of calling him out, however, Keith lowered himself onto the sand silently, settling in to watch the sunset. Slightly wary, Lance slowly sat next to Keith, the feeling of sand sifting through his hands so familiar and nostalgic that a stab of pain shot through his heart.

"How often did you come here?" Keith asked, watching as the bright colors of the sky shifted once more.

"Not really, this was more of a tourist spot," Lance admitted, "Though at one time, I thought about applying to be a lifeguard here."

"Really?" Keith glanced at him, eyebrows arched.

"Yeah," Lance chuckled softly, "It seemed like the perfect job, getting paid to sit around at the beach and occasionally have to drag a drowning tourist out of knee deep water."

Keith shook his head with a laugh and leaned forward, propping an arm over his knees.

"You sure there wasn't another reason?" he joked, both of them knowing full well what the other unspoken motivation was.

"Yeah. Acquiring the discipline to sit in the exact same position for hours on end seemed really appealing," Lance deadpanned, earning a judgemental laugh from Keith.

"Yeah, right," he rolled his eyes.

Lance turned his attention back to the sky, grinning. The fading sunlight hit the waters at a perfect angle, transforming the entire ocean into molten gold, and the sight stole Lance's breath. Though he had seen nebulas of violet and indigo, galaxies swirling in blues and greens and shining with the light of thousands of stars, and planets of all forms of beauty, nothing would ever be more breathtaking to him than a Cuban sunset.

"Why didn't you?" Keith asked, slightly startling Lance.

"Didn't what?" Lance blinked in confusion.

"Why didn't you become a lifeguard?"

"Oh," Lance shrugged, "Because I wanted to be a pilot more. I knew that if I got a job here, I wouldn't have the time I needed to study and get my grades high enough to get into the Garrison."

"Huh," Keith grunted.

"Yeah," Lance savored the word, tone sentimental with nostalgia. "I remember when I told my mom that I wanted to be a pilot in the Garrison. She dismissed it as the pure daydreams of an energetic kid and thought I'd forget all about it the next day. But I didn't. And when I only got more and more serious about the whole thing, she grew progressively more worried. In hindsight, I don't think I realized just how scared she was."

"Did she not want you to leave?" Keith asked.

Lance leaned back onto the palms of his hands, "That was part of it. I also think she just didn't want to me to shoot off into space and never be heard from again."

Pausing, Lance gulped, heavy guilt weighing on his heart. While his family had marginally forgiven him, he still didn't think that he would ever truly forgive himself for letting them live through believing he was dead.

"Hey," Keith voiced, pulling Lance from his misery, "You came back."

"I did," Lance admitted, offering him a small smile.

The stars were now visible in the ever darkening sky, the pinks and oranges of before having faded to turquoise and light violets.

"I didn't want to go home because I didn't know how I'd take it. I used to dream about being back there, and now, I'm too afraid to actually visit," Lance blurted, surprising both himself and Keith.

"Why?"

The word was a loaded gun with the safety off, and Keith had pulled the trigger.

"I don't know," Lance whispered.

But he did know, didn't he? He just didn't want to admit it.

"You sure?"

As a cool breeze filtered through their hair and the palm trees behind them, Lance dared a look at Keith, whose eyes reflected the glow of the dying sun.

Keith met his gaze, head tilted in an unspoken challenge.

"It's stupid," Lance dismissed, then began to fiddle with a loose string on his light blue hoodie.

"If you say so," Keith shrugged, returning his eyes to the ocean.

Though the sun still had yet to disappear completely, the moon was slowly becoming the stronger source of light, a sign of night overcoming day.

"I guess...I know that if I go there, it'll mean moving on."

There. The words hung in the air, but at least they'd finally escaped his mind.

"And you don't want to move on? Wouldn't that be a good thing?" Keith asked.

"I guess. I just don't know if I'm ready to let go," Lance sighed, picking up a fistfull of sand and watching as it slowly sifted through his grasp.

"Of what?"

Lance paused. Closing his eyes, a rash of memories flashed through his mind in rapid succession, each one just a traumatic as the next. He saw himself, alone and shackled, left to rot in a cell. He felt the powerlessness he'd experienced as his body was beaten until it broke. Then there was the lightning, tearing through his body and burning his skin. Next, Xeris's charred face. And the visions. Afterwhich, the nightmares. They haunted him, were always one step behind him. They bullied his mind, shredded his heart, and tormented him endlessly. He hated them. But he was afraid to let them go.

"Everything," Lance admitted, running a hand through his hair.

"Hmm," Keith rested an elbow on one of his knees and used his hand to cradle his chin. "Are you talking about what happened while you were in captivity?"

"And everything that came after," Lance nodded, his skin suddenly raw.

Keith thought for a moment before answering.

"I think you've grown used to your demons, and your view of them has warped. You're afraid to let them go because you don't know who you'd be without them," he concluded, making Lance's heart panic at the truth of the statement.

"I…"

"It's okay to be afraid Lance. But you have to move on. Life without change is pointless."

Lance contemplated that for a moment, his hand drawing patterns in the sand.

"How'd you know?" Lance finally rasped, his voice sounding like he'd just gurgled gravel.

"You're not the only one with demons," Keith told him, and a chill fell upon Lance's bones.

He was right, they all had their trials, and Lance berated himself for forgetting it. Suddenly, Lance needed to move. He needed to think. Pushing himself up, he started toward the water, his mind consumed in thought.

Keith seemed to sense that Lance needed to be alone, to process and absorb, so when he stood, he didn't follow.

"Now that I know where you are, that should appease the others. They can send a search party if you're not back before tomorrow," Keith called, but Lance didn't respond.

"Lance?" Keith tried again, this time with enough steel in his voice to catch Lance's attention.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'll see you then," Lance sent Keith a distracted smile before returning his gaze to the sand at his feet.

Lance didn't see the long, thoughtful look Keith sent him, nor did he see him leave. Lance only sensed when he was alone, the stars and the sea his remaining company. As Lance watched the ocean ripple with reflected starlight, making the space before him look like millions of liquid stars, he contemplated Keith's words. Maybe moving on would be better than standing still. Lance knew that he would still carry his memories, that the future still held sleepless nights and overcast days. Except, now, he'd stop letting them control him. His doubts would still whisper in his ear, but maybe he'd have the strength to ignore them. And if he didn't possess enough strength to fight by himself, he could always rely on his friends and family to lend him theirs. After all, they already had. Lance remembered Shiro, comforting him in a darkly veiled room, when night terrors threatened to sever his sanity. And Allura, her multi-colored eyes turning to kaleidoscopes with tears that swirled, unshed, for him. The memory of Pidge, fast asleep after listening to him play on his guitar for hours, brought a faint smile to his lips. He felt that smile grow wider when he remembered Hunk's attempts to trap Lance into feeling better about himself, and Coran's antics intended to coax him into laughter. With each memory, Veronica teasing him, his parents hugging him, Keith comforting him when he desperately needed it, Lance felt stronger. The sky, now a window into the expanse where he'd spent years of his life, and the ocean, a perfect mirror of that world, brought a sense of peace to his heart and mind at last. Lance didn't know what lay before him, nor the struggles that would test him, but he knew he could face it. Or, at least, he would try.

And that was enough.

With one last deep breath, Lance stepped into the waves, letting the troubles of the past wash away.