AN- Here we go, second to last chapter! I would have liked more time to edit this, so excuse any errors. I think its mostly alright, but I am shit at editing my own work.
This might be my favorite chapter in the while fic. My favorite part is probably the description of the herd in the forest last chapter, but over all I think this chapter is better. I might only like it because it was fun to write.
Part8 -Purple Possibilities
Lance could hear his own breaths. Nobody was sleeping. They were only laying, and waiting, their weapons close at hand on the floor. Painful pressure was building, coiled like a race horse at the starting line, burning below Lance's ribs and trailing up his sternum, ready to burst at the whistle, the flag, the gunshot. Anticipation wasn't meant to linger, it curdled, and became frustration that gripped a person's shoulders and squeezed.
Lance consciously released his shoulder muscles.
He considered meditating. Taking his hands off the wheel of his thoughts and stepping to the side. He would be alone, but muffled. It wouldn't dull the burning, but at least he wouldn't care. He wouldn't have to be strong if he was standing on the beach in his mind, with the ocean breeze and maybe even his sister. The sun would be warm, a big yellow sun in a blue sky, with nothing but the waves breaking the horizon. No walls, no rust, no tall pretentious buildings...
A light touch of a pale hand interrupted Lance's thoughts. It ran down his chest following the singed path of his spoiled anxiety. It stopped, and the fingers spread over Lance's solar plexus where all his frustration curled into fear. "Don't go, Ace." Tiny red thoughts slipped past the walls Lance had begun to build unconsciously, and tore them down.
Keith turned his head a little so his nose rubbed Lance's collarbone. They were on the floor of the hut, trying to sleep. The team was spread around them, but they were in their own bubble, sharing their turbulent emotions in an endless ricochet.
Keith's thought's snaked around Lance. "Are you scared we're going to die?"
For maybe the millionth time Lance was thankful for Keith's directness. "No," he sent back honestly, but it was packed with layers.
"Me either," Keith's answer flickered as his hand over Lance's waste twitched.
Keith always smelled crisp like an autumn night, and his voice was like a glowing ember, even more so in their minds. Lance wanted to remember the warm heat pressed to his side and the hand that betrayed Keith's fear. He wanted to ease the fear and tell Keith everything was OK, that this was just their brand of peace. They were their own church, and their bond stretching across endless realities was their calling. They just had to believe, and pray to themselves, to their love, and know that their faith was meant to be in each other.
"It's OK, as long as it's with you, I'm OK with dying." Lance's watery sentiment hardly diluted the clotted dread they shared, no matter how true it was.
Slowly, Keith raised his head and slid up Lance's body to kiss him. Their lips parted, and Keith's new fangs ghosted over Lance's tongue. A small gasp was swallowed and the bond bloomed with affection. Lance grabbed the back of Keith's head, deepening the kiss, breathing hard through his nose as he ran his tongue over the fang again causing Keith to bite down lightly. The bond thrummed, and Lance ran his other hand along the skin of Keith's waste where his shirt rode up, inching to the clasp of his pants and-
"Hey guys, you remember we're here too, right?" Pidge's small, and slightly uncomfortable voice objected to their activities.
"Yeah, no hanky-panky!" Hunk added helpfully.
"You know, not to be pessimistic, but this could be their last night. I say we just pretend we're not here." Allura suggested with an air of innocence.
The kiss broke, and Lance actually wanted to die. Maybe he would tomorrow and he would never have to remember this moment. Anything would be preferable the shit Pidge would give him later, even becoming literal trans-reality cosmic dust. If he didn't die, he wasn't sure there would ever again be room in his body for any feeling except embarrassment.
Keith on the other hand was fine. "I'm fine taking Allura up on that offer-"
"NO!" Lance yelled, mortified. He knew Keith was messing with him, but he still couldn't stop the blush that went all the way down his neck.
Keith snorted, and pressed his face into Lance's flushed neck to smother his laughter.
Everyone else chuckled, and Lance felt a little more at ease. Tomorrow was just another crazy mission like all the rest.
Just an average day for a paladin of Voltron.
oOoOo
Long after the sun broke the line where the wall met the sky, Lance cracked open an eye to the mottled light coming through the door hanging. The musty smell of the wood floor mingled with the familiar scent of Keith. The muzzy warmth that was drifting lazily in the back of Lance's mind, let him know Keith was still asleep. Slowly he glanced down and smiled at the sight of messy black hair curled close, face pressed to Lance's chest. Just as slowly he looked up across the room, and spotted Pidge.
They were sitting up, sipping something from a wooden bowl. When they made eye contact Pidge raised a finger and pressed it to their lips for silence, and gestured around at the still sleeping Allura and Hunk. They put the bowl down, got up, and carefully picked their way across the room to sit by Lance's head. They whispered. "Jin came by, they have the part we need. Showed it to me as proof."
Lance nodded slowly, still waking up. The fuzzy red in his mind was coming into focus as Keith surfaced from sleep with a soft moan of displeasure. Lance reached down and ran his fingers through silky back hair, his fingernails scratching Keith's scalp lightly. "Shhhh, Rojo. You can sleep longer if you want," he said quietly.
"Mmmm, no. I'm awake," Keith mumbled into Lance's shirt.
"Sure you are," Lance muttered through a chuckle, continuing to pet Keith's hair.
Pidge was watching them with something complicated and thoughtful behind their eyes. But the little wrinkle of worry that had sat between their eyebrows all through this mission, was gone. Smoothed over along with the tightness that had narrowed their eyes and driven them faster in the woods.
"We're almost there," they murmured, a slip of words from almost still lips, but it brought hope.
For so long, every time Lance stumbled and fell something shattered inside him. He had been an empty box full of broken glass. Shards of anger. Anger at himself, at their situation, and now at Vii. Keith was the only steady hand that kept him standing rather than laying on glass.
But Pidge was right, and hope threaded through Lance's chest for the first time in months. He looked at Pidge, and they looked back, their steady gaze filled Lance's chest with warm soil that covered all the broken glass.
Keith's sleepy warmth and Lance's cool waters helped Pidge grow in the bond. They bolstered the hope and added their versatile adaptability on top of Hunks smooth strength, Allura's strong compassion, and Shiro's protective instinct that lingered in the paladin bond.
Keith took a large breath as he began to truly wake up. His flame ignited and his presence rumbled under Lance's ocean, rising to the surface like a great dragon.
Pidge gasped. Their eyes wide and mouth opened slightly at the enormity of the bond they were skimming the surface of.
Keith slowly turned his head and cracked an eye open, looking up at Pidge. "You're very comforting, I didn't expect that," he murmured. Pidge turned red from the tip of their hairline all the way down their neck. They turned their head away from Keith and cleared their throat. "Thanks…" they said with only a small waver.
"Oh my!"
All three heads turned quickly towards the door and their collective metaphorical hackles rose in unison. Jin stood in the doorway, their arms were full of robes and wooden chimes, but their eyes were bright with surprise and interest. Lance felt Pidge's soft soil become gritty with irritation, and their sprout in the bond withered away.
The moment the paladin bond died Jin shifted uncomfortably, and an awkward pause hung like a sour note. Lance was starting to think that they could suss out more details from the bond then they were letting on.
With another nervous shift Jin made their way into the room, slowly. They placed two robes, along with two lanterns complete with connected chimes on the floor. "For tonight," they explain quietly.
Lance nodded, and Jin shuffled out of the room quickly.
It was about time to wake the others.
oOoOo
The day remained quiet. The soil Pidge had brought to the bond was gone, but its weight seemed to have dulled the sharp edges inside Lance. He remained subdued, but peaceful. Keith was also centered, ready to be finished with this planet.
The only visitors that came after Jin were random villagers who left them meals. Lance had expected Jin to come back and explain the ritual, but they never reappeared. Instead the day wore on like a threadbare sweater. When the stripe of sunlight, cast from under the door hanging onto the floor, turned from bright yellow to orange a new visitor entered the hut.
The new person was dressed in plain white robes and didn't speak or move after entering. With their hood up they were a nameless, faceless ghost. They held a lantern, but they had no chimes and no rope. The sphere of their lantern was balanced in the palm of their left hand, lit and flickering. In their right hand was a second orb of blown glass.
Ten ticks of silence passed. Each moment sent a wave of energy into the air, building layer after layer, raising the hair on Lance's arm, and then as suddenly as they had entered the figure turned and left.
"I guess that's our cue," Lance tried to sound casual as he stood up. Keith followed as they put their robes over their clothes and gathered their lanterns.
With fear in her eyes Allura climbed to her feet. "We will follow at a distance. Hopefully we won't disrupt them."
With a forced smirk of confidence Lance nodded. He knew it didn't fool her, she knew him too well, they all did. Lance met his team's eyes one by one, and committed their faces and the way they felt in the bond to memory
Pidge a warm comforting weight.
Hunk and smooth metallic calm.
Allura, a firm but fluffy understanding.
They followed him when he was unsure, lost and scared, when he was cocky and unreasonable, or broken and sad. They even followed him when they didn't agree with him. He was confronted by their readiness, weapons at hand, Keith and Lance's weapons were strapped to Hunks back for safe keeping.
Keith's fierce fire climbed up Lance's spine and whispered to him. "We got this."
Right, they had this, together. It was going to be a breeze.
oOoOo
Outside the hut the robed figure with the two orbs wasn't as alone as Lance had assumed. The entire herd had been waiting, including Jin in their decorative robes. As soon as Lance and Keith emerged they all turned and began to walk, completely silent. Following suit Lance and Keith remained quite as well and followed along.
Jin only approached them once to light their lanterns, then they went to the head of the group without speaking a word.
It was a short walk to the center of the village, where everyone gathered around a plain stone dias.
The stranger with no chimes climbed onto the dias and slowly held out their glass orb. Around the outside was a band made of paper, slanted at a forty five degree angle. Through the glass Lance could see marks, evenly spaced and labeled. In the center of the circle formed by the band a polished wooden stick pierced the orb clean through. When the sun passed through the glass the stick cast a shadow on the paper band.
A sundial, Lance realized.
Not a single person moved, not even the stranger on the dias. They remained still, waiting as the shadow of the stick slowly moved along the paper. Keith shifted from foot to foot restlessly, and Lance wished he understood this Yeppeo's system of time.
Just as the waiting became unbearable every person in the herd lifted their lanterns and shook their chimes once, then without any fanfare they began to move on. Lance and Keith followed obediently, but Lance looked back to watch the keeper of the sun dial slowly climb down from the dias, and with a lowered head wander off back into the village proper.
Lance didn't turn to face front until the lone ghosts forlorn back vanished between the huts. From the moment they had appeared, the air had felt charged with something indescribable and it remained after they departed. It was the same force Lance had experienced when he first encountered the herd, and now he was a part of it. He wasn't sure if it was in his head or not, but this time it felt stronger, and pulled on something anchored to his sense of self. He felt like a cat on a leash, powerless to stop, even if he dropped to the ground he would be pulled along regardless.
Lance blinked and they were on the edge of the forest.
Keith thrummed in the bond, nervous, and also with an edge of something involuntary.
With his first step past the tree line Lance felt muscles in his shoulders relax that he hadn't realized he'd been clenching. The wave of relief was almost euphoric and grew with every step. The blue lagoon of trees and leaves passed, the mossy ground was soft and glittered with mica. It almost smelled like earth the same way it almost looked like earth, like too much blue and not enough green.
When the watery sun touched down to rest on the wall and reached out with golden rays over the forest canopy, the singing began. It was just like the last time when Lance had been on the outside hiding behind the rocks and watching. The dull sound of the wooden chimes punctuated the rising and falling voices as they sang goodbye to the sun. They sang as if it were dying, and they weren't sure if it would be reborn in the morning. Lance and Keith sang with them, quietly under their breath, the same way Lance had sung at his abuela's funeral, because he had been pretending he still believed, and because she would have wanted him to try.
This time he wasn't pretending. He felt something, it was calling to him, but it wasn't divine. He knew now that what he was feeling was himself. Infinite hims and infinite Keith's reaching out on the same frequency. They were tuned in, ready to connect, and Lance was ready to believe. For the first time in his life he was ready to have faith in himself.
Wave after wave, rising and never cresting, the euphoric sensation grew in his chest…
Then it stopped and the feeling ebbed to almost nothing.
White light peaked between the trees like fingers through the dark, prepared to part the forest. As they approached, the trees seemed to move aside and drape along the sides of Lance's vision like the curtains of a window, until only the glow from the clearing filled his eyes.
When his sight adjusted he took in their destination.
The barrier was brighter than before, and utterly uncaring as the blooming, jagged, jaw it contained continued its venerable struggle against time and nature. The meteor was almost lost in the luminous energy and the placid war that raged around it. Small in comparison to its impressive and chaotic surroundings, the meteor looked innocuous.
Lance had trouble believing that a rock could literally tear reality apart, but there it was. He didn't like it. The idea that it wasn't capable of caring, or understanding its power. It occurred naturally and would have ended existence if left alone. Like a storm, there was no reason, no responsibility. Hell, Lance would have preferred if it was created by a mad scientist's negligence, at least there would be something to point at, a person, an event, an accident.
This meteor was chance, random chaos.
It made the universe feel dark and turned Lance's thoughts nihilistic, but only for a moment.
The dry shore of his emotions was a warning, just like the sudden disappearance of the ocean. When he took his final step into the clearing he was overcome. The waves from before paled in comparison to the tsunami that engulfed him. All his doubts were swept away and he knew he needed to touch the barrier.
As if reacting to Lance's thought like a hive mind the herd began to move again. They walked as one, like a school of fish, and began splitting into pairs. Lance and Keith followed the cues and tried to remember what they had seen the night before.
They moved closer to each other and fell in line, shuffling along. They entered the groove worn into the ground around the barrier. Lance felt Keith's hand rest on the center of his back, just like the rest of the pairs. They shuffled, and shook their lanterns, the hand holding it was dangerously close to the white light, but they resisted. Lance's tolerance was running thin as the singing and shaking of chimes continued, and right when he thought it might snap, everyone raised their lanterns and skimmed the surface of the barrier.
Lance and Keith followed suit.
Everything went white.
Then a feeling overcame Lance, like looking in a mirror and seeing your reflection doesn't mimic you.
The bond soaked it up, swelled with it, and grew until it spread out over endless possibilities.
oOoOo
Lance heard a voice. One he hadn't heard since going to space. One wasn't sure he would ever hear again.
"Mama, Maritza and I have work, and Emma can hardly handle watching Arlo and the twins, let alone you along with them. So we need you to do this, OK?" Angella's voice was stretched thin and her eyes tight with worry.
"But I don't want to!" Lance whined. He looked around eleven years old, but he was on a street corner Lance had never seen, in a neighborhood he had never lived in. When Lance had been eleven he still lived in Cuba, but this was a town in a somewhat desert climate. The more he looked around the more familiar it seemed, like someplace he passed through a long time ago.
Angella leaned forward a little bringing her face level with Lance's who was already quickly approaching her height. She smiled, a strained little lift of her lips. "I know hermano, but this could be fun!" She tried to convince him.
Even at his young age Lance could tell his sister was desperate. He sighed, "I miss home…" The same longing Lance had felt when he had moved to the Garrison ricocheted through his much younger voice.
Angella's smile cracked and fell away. She shared an understanding and sad look with her brother. "I know, I do too, but we couldn't stay. After uncle André passed we just couldn't afford it. So, please, just do this."
Lance knew she was right, but that didn't make it any easier. He wanted to be stubborn and throw a fit, he could feel it curled up tight behind his eyes, but his sisters pleading buckled his resolve. "Sure, fine," he relented with added petulance for good measure.
Angella sagged with relief. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she chanted as she herded Lance into the community building and left him there.
No one came to greet him in the entrance hall. Lance let his head tip forward pouring a sigh from his mouth. The carpet was dirty, swirled from repeated cleanings. Lance thought it must be like that everywhere in the building, this was just that type of place.
When a minute passed Lance decided to find his own way. He was in this alone. Despite his big family, he was alone for the first time, everyone had a job and he was left on the curb… or in this case the lost and found for kids.
Lance heaved another sigh and lifted his head. There were signs pointing the way, signs meant for the adults that should have walked him all the way to his destination…
It only took a few minutes to find the correct room. It was an open space, there was one adult and an entire herd of children. Many of them were playing as if they had done this before, or regularly came to this center. Lance had never been someplace like this, he had always had his sisters.
A blotch of red caught Lance's attention. Off in the back corner there was a lone kid. He was small, in a big red hoodie that made it hard to tell if he had shorts on or not. His hair was shaggy, his head was tipped down, and his face was a little... bitchy.
Lance liked him immediately. He always liked Keith from the first moment.
Using a little stealth, Lance made it around to the back without bringing attention to himself. He hung out behind the small boy quietly, scripting what he should say. He didn't look like a kid that enjoyed much of anything or anyone, a challenge.
With a perfectly crafted greeting in mind Lance slid up to the small kids side. They stood in silence for a moment, the only indication that the kid noticed him was a small shift in his body.
Lance cleared his throat. "This is lame, right?" he complained in his most casual tone.
Hands that Lance couldn't see in the large sleeves of the hoodie gripped the red fabric. "Yeah, lame," the kid mumbled, but didn't look up.
A slow start, but not the worst outcome. Lance looked down. The kid had on old sneakers, scuffed and worn with small flowers on the side. Lance covertly looked the kid up and down. His hoodie was faded, and dirtier up close, his cheek had a smudge on it and his hair more tangled than shaggy. Lance looked back down at the shoes, they were the wrong size, probably not the kids first choice in aesthetic… oh.
This was the type of kid that needed this place. The type of kid Lance thought he couldn't possibly ever become, but it wasn't that far out of reach. With a small stumble Lance could be this kid, they left Cuba trying to avoid it.
Lance pointed directly at the sneakers that the kid was probably hoping Lance wouldn't notice. "Nice shoes. A controversial, but bold choice," he announced with genuine good humor and a smile.
The scruffy kid's bitchy face snapped up, fury in his eyes, mouth forming an angry retort, and then he stopped. He looked thrown by Lance's friendly smile, and came up short. Bewilderment wiped away the defensive anger from every line of kids' faces.
The boy blinked and tipped his head a little to the side in confusion.
A warm feeling curled down from the top of Lance's head to the tip of his toes and tripped up his heart on the way down. They stared at each other for a stretched out moment, both stumbling over the unexpected. The boy opened his mouth again to speak, but a call for attention from the entrance of the room interrupted. They both turned to the community center employee's giving the announcement, a kind looking woman in a gray dress suit, and next to her was a woman with a severe expression, red glasses, and a skirt that was much tighter, part of a uniform Lance hadn't seen in a long time. It was a much older version of the Garrison uniform from his early days at the institution; it had been discontinued after his first few months. A light blinked on in Lance's head, the town he was in, it was the one he would pass through on his way to the Garrison. He had been here only a handful of times when he had snuck out at night.
Lance's eyes trailed over the group of awkward teens that filed in, all of them in uniform, most of them not filling it out, except one guy in the back. He was straight backed and confident, with perfect hair, perfect teeth, overall well put together, likely an only child. Lance hated him on sight. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Lance had always resented Shiro as much as he had idolized him.
"Look at that tool in the back," the mystery kid said suddenly, gesturing at the same Mr. Perfect that Lance had been judging.
Lance was surprised but not unhappy with the sudden opening, so he took it. "Yeah, I bet he's overcompensating for something."
The kid smothered a snort in his sleeve and turned to look at Lance again. His pale cheeks were a little flushed and Lance felt his own heating up to match. Their eyes connected and static zipped up his spine.
The boy shifted from foot to foot and cleared his throat nervously. "I'm uhh… I'm Keith," he stammered, and looked away.
He was acting shy after brashly insulting a stranger, and it was the cutest thing ever. Lance smiled. "I'm Lance."
The boy's purple eyes flickered back to Lance's face and a small smile slowly formed.
"...Anyone who is not paired off by the end of this meeting will come back at the same time next week, enjoy."
The woman in the red glasses finished her announcement which was the cue to release the teens. They spilled into the room looking just as uncomfortable as the kids. Keith looked down at his shoes immediately, but Lance looked around curiously. Mr. Perfect was scanning the room and Lance tried to avoid his eyes, only now seeing the wisdom in Keith's action, but it was too late, Mr. Perfect was coming right at them.
"The tool is coming right for us!' Lance hissed to Keith under his breath.
Keith peeked through his bangs. "If he pulls some nice guy act, I will kick him," he grumbled.
Lance smirked. He really liked this kid.
oOoOo
A tree. That was the key, and the only obstacle. It was the middle of the night and Lance was in a bush, scoping out his target. The mission was easy, sprint to the tree, climb as quietly as possible. It was the only way to reach the weak point in their security. The front and back were heavily guarded, but this alternate entrance was left open by his inside man.
The main guard passed by on his final round for the night, the lights went out behind him as he left to retire. The instant everything went dark Lance lept from the bush and ran. He closed the gap quickly and quietly, and then climbed the tree with relative ease. It was a slow and tense shuffle to the end of the branch that almost touched the entrance. Lance reached out and grabbed the edge of the window, as promised it was unlocked and slid open.
Like a cat Lance slunk onto the sill of the window and looked down at his target asleep in his bed. Just as carefully as he had entered the room, he slid down trapping his target between his legs and quickly covered the target's mouth with his hand. Using his other hand Lance gently stroked dark hair as the boy woke up and recognition filled his eyes. Lance took his hand off of Keith's mouth and leaned in close. With their lips just brushing he whispered, "Target acquired."
Keith chuckled. "You dor-"
The insult was cut short by a kiss. In a rush of lips and moans they both lost their shirts. Lance pressed his hips down pushing a gasp from Keith. He praised the glory of thin pajama bottoms while he cursed his jeans at the same time.
Neither one heard the creak of the hallway floor boards, too absorbed in their kiss, and the gentle rocking of their bodies.
The bedroom door creaked open. "Keith, are you-" Shiro began with concern, but when the strip of light from his entrance fell on the bed, his worry snapped to anger.
"LANCE!"
Shiro's yell was a jolt of electricity that shocked the boys apart so fast that Lance tumbled onto the floor.
"SHIRO!" Keith practically screeched, scandalized. He leaned over the bed to check on Lance, but Lance was already scrambling to his feet in a panic, grabbing his shirt.
"Sh- She- Shiro! I- We- we weren't-" Lance stuttered, face red, holding his shirt over his chest.
Shiro just stood stone still with fury. "How many- this is the third time- I am going to NAIL that window shut!" He bellowed.
The shock of Shiro's anger knocked Lance into action. He tussled with his shirt trying to pull it over his head, but in his manic hurry he put one of his arms through the head hole, trapping it against the side of his face.
Lance floundered and Shiro took his chance. He barreled into the room and grabbed Lance by his flailing arm trapped in the air and began to drag him out of the room.
"AHG-" Lance choked on his surprise.
"SHIRO! DON'T!" Keith screamed as he leapt from the bed after his boyfriend and brother.
Shiro yelled back as he yanked Lance down the hallway. "Keith I told you-"
"It's not your choice Takashi!" Keith cut his brother off as he caught up and tried to help Lance untangle from his shirt.
"You are SIXTEEN Keith! It is my choice for two more years, and you know the rule about Lance being in your room!" Shiro lectured at the top of his lungs and pulled on Lance's arm harder, dragging him out of Keith's reach.
"MMMMMFFF!" Lance interjected, muffled by his shirt.
The brothers ignored the unintelligible plea for help and continued to argue. Trapped by his boyfriends well built brother and suffocating in his shirt Lance did the only thing he could. He went limp, dropping his dead weight, surprising Shiro.
Shiro yelped and stumbled as he tried to keep himself and Lance upright. "Lance! Don't go boneless!" He cried out, his voice strained with the effort. But the position was awkward and Lance managed to slip free making a break for it with one arm still flopping over his head as he ran away.
"Yeah! Boneless Lance!" Keith cheered behind him.
"Love ya, babe!" Lance called back over Shiro's frustrated screams.
oOoOo
Lance had seen this before. It was the smell more than anything that brought the memories back with excruciating detail. He had been so alone. Not even his mother had tried to talk to him, she had hardly been able to look at him, but he never wanted those condemning eyes on him anyway. He hated how complicated they had been, blaming, guilty, pitying… angry. Her eyes had reflected back all that was left in his otherwise empty body.
The air tasted like flowers covering a bitter flavor that was briny and stringent. formaldehyde. Lance kept his breathing shallow and his head down, but his stomach still churned. The short carpet was old, it's time worn dinge was swirled from repeated cleanings. This wasn't the right place to say goodbye, if there ever was one. It hadn't been right for his abuela and it wouldn't be for…
Lance was hidden in the black shadow of his family. They were waiting for the doors to open, to see her again, to meet and greet, and to cry. But he didn't want to see her, he didn't want to see anyone, or greet them, and he hadn't stopped crying yet.
Lance didn't want to do this, but the doors were opening and everyone was filing in. The sound of cries renewed drifted into the hall. Lance hesitated and then shuffled into the very edge of the doorway. At the end of the long room was a large photo of Maritza and her casket surrounded by lilies. Lance could see his sister's profile just barely over the edge of her coffin, and that was enough. He took a step back, prepared to run, but a solid hand on his shoulder held him in place.
It was Emma, she was the only person that still bothered to speak to Lance. She leaned down just enough to whisper in his ear. "Go on, it will be like she's just sleeping, but don't touch her, you'll regret it."
It wasn't said in a particularly comforting voice, but it also wasn't full of pity and Lance appreciated that. When Emma let him go he didn't follow her, but he also didn't run. He just stood at the end of a long aisle framed by seating, and on the other side was his dead sister, like some morbid approximation of the wedding day she would never have.
Lance couldn't do it. He was frozen to the ground by the ice that ran through his body. He hadn't known at the time, but that cold hardness that had planted him on the spot would stay with him for his entire life, haunt his relationships and his happiness. At this very moment it would hold him captive, he wouldn't break free and walk down that aisle, and he would regret it-
A small, warm hand laced its fingers with Lance's. The ice thawed just a bit, enough for Lance to take a full breath.
This isn't how it had happened, this was different.
"Come on, let's go see Maritza," a young Keith coaxed in a whisper. Then he led the young Lance down the aisle, ignoring the stumbling steps and unsure sounds of fear. Keith dragged his friend to where he should have gone, to say goodbye like he should have done.
They stopped and Lance stayed a step behind, shielded from the view, but Keith moved aside and pulled Lance the last step by his hand.
Suddenly, Lance was looking down at his sister, and a horrifying realization drew slowly across his face. He had overheard the police telling his parents, and he hadn't wanted to believe it, but there was the evidence. Lance had avoided this in his own reality, he had never walked down the aisle so that he could pretend it wasn't true. It had a week to find Maritza after she had gone missing, but here her body was in an open casket. She hadn't been dead the whole time. She couldn't have been dead more than two days.
The body looked like her, even if it wasn't her makeup, and she didn't smell like her perfume, and...
"She doesn't look asleep," Lance said through a raspy, swallowed sob.
Keith held his hand tighter. "No she doesn't" he agreed.
oOoOo
The white walls of the bunk in the Castle ship were yellowed by incandescent light. Copper wires trimmed the room and powered the small bulbs around the ceiling. The little lights dimmed and brightened with a flux of unstable power. Pidge was likely working on something big if they were drawing that much electricity...
Lance was content. His ocean was glassy calm and Keith burned steadily on his chest. One pale finger tapped his labret stud, then slid down his chin to his neck and continued until it was tracing the pattern of Lance's tattoo. Sweaty and sated Keith sighed, "that was great, Ace."
Lance smirked. "You're great," he was trying to sound flirty, but it wandered out of his mouth as affectionate.
His response earned a laugh that was cut short as Keith's finger stopped right over Lance's heart.. "I never noticed before, but this part of the pattern is different."
In an attempt to be nonchalant Lance shrugged. "Probably because you're a little distracted whenever my shirt's off," he teased and wiggled his eyebrows down at Keith.
The meager attempt to derail the conversation failed. Keith simply rested his chin on Lance's chest and stared up at him until Lance relented and answered truthfully. "If you must know, it is different, Rojo. It's Altean."
Keith smiled. It sent a muzzy wave of heat up Lance's chest. "That's nice, I'm glad you're connecting to your new culture."
Keith's overt support flustered Lance. He tried not to show it despite the fact that Keith could likely feel it. "Well, yeah. I'm still Cuban, cuz of my mom, and where I was raised… but I have a chance to know where my dad came from so..."
"I think that's nice. I would do the same, but my mom was… or is Galra and…" Keith trailed off and smiled again, but it was slightly sad, marked with a cooling sensation Lance knew well from him.
"You should," Lance encouraged.
"What?" Keith raised his head off Lance's chest to look him in the eyes.
Without breaking his confident stare Lance continued. "Just because your other half is Glara doesn't mean you shouldn't learn about it. Plus they aren't all bad, The Blades are good Galra, and you were learning the language before we got stranded. Why not learn more about the culture?"
"But... Allura…" Keith hesitated, and Lance felt it. He was hesitating because of Lance's close friendship with her.
"She'll understand," Lance assured him.
Keith was on an edge. He felt like he was going to topple over, but his blind faith in Lance kept him balanced. "OK," he agreed.
Moments passed, but Keith still didn't settle down again. Something roiled in him as he looked back down at the Altean words. "What does it say?" he asked suddenly.
So sudden that Lance wasn't able to anticipate it. "It… uhhh," he faltered. He knew it wasn't a big deal now, but he had gotten so long ago when their relationship was new and… it felt weird for Keith to know.
"Ace?" Keith sat all the way up and looked down with concern.
Lance pressed his lips together and looked away while clearing his throat.
"Lance?" Keith asked again, clearly feeling how unsettled his boyfriend was.
"It'syourname," Lance blurted.
Keith stared down at him and blinked…. "My name?"
Lance nodded once, quickly, still not looking at Keith. Then a warm palm covered his heart and his muscles jumped in surprise. The warmth spread into his chest and down his limbs. Very slowly Lance looked down at Keith's hand covering the Altean and then up into Keith's violet eyes.
The smile that met Lance was filled with love. "My name is close to your heart?" Keith asked quietly.
Lance offered the obvious answer.
"Yeah, of course."
oOoOo
Keith's face was stark, framed by his dark hair. His wretched expression was partly hidden behind his bangs.
Lance was stricken, horror filled and nauseated. His eyes were fixed on the white wall over Keith's shoulder, selfishly saving himself the pain of making eye contact. "What did you just say?" Lance whispered, disbelievingly.
"I said we're done." Keith repeated, making the walls of the Garrison dorm room close in a little more around Lance.
"Why? Did I-" Lance tried to ask, his eye still to the left of Keith's face.
"Listen, it's been fun." Keith tried to shift into a more casual tone. "But, this?" he gestured at Lance and back to himself. "It wasn't more than a fling…" He tried to smirk, but it quivered at the ends.
This was the part where Lance accepted it, because he understood he wasn't worth more than some fun, but this time something felt different, he swore he could feel Keith.
The bond had never felt like it does in this reality, subtler and softer, but also more organic. It must be because they don't have the Lions yet. He had always thought the pull he felt to Keith had been in his head back at the Garrison.
"It's been more than some fun for me," Lance felt his heart jump, scared of his own bold words.
Keith jerked back, blinking rapidly. "Well- I'm sorry but-"
No," Lance said firmly, not giving Keith a chance to lie again. "Just tell me the truth. Is it me? Because I'm a guy or-"
"No!" Keith cut in with a cracked voice that stopped Lance dead. "No…" he repeated, quieter.
"Then why?" Lance begged. One good reason and he would let it go, if that's what Keith wanted.
Keith met Lance's eyes with a wide and glassy stare. "I…" he seemed to choke on his word, but took a breath and pushed through it. "I'm not worth it. Lance, you deserve more, I can't- I-" Keith couldn't blink enough to hide the tear, or breath enough to stop the sob, he turned away in shame.
Lance closed the gap between them in an instant. He had known for a long time that Keith had been through something terrible. He grabbed Keith's face on either side and looked him in the eyes. "You're worth it. I think you're worth it," He said firmly and honestly.
Keith tried to shake his head, but Lance held it still. "No, no ,no. I'm not, I-"
Lance couldn't listen to anymore bullshit. "Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault."
With a gulping breath Keith pushed through his tight throat. "Of course it's my fault- it was my choices- I did this to myself!" He screamed and ripped himself from Lance's grasp.
The certainty in Keith's words was audible and it sat like a rock in Lance's chest. Keith believed it was true, and obviously wished it wasn't, but instead of lashing out again, he cried. "You're too good for me. I'm going to ruin you, Lance," He finally admitted.
With slow steps and teary eyes, Lance approached Keith again. He carefully wrapped him in a hug and whispered. "That's my line."
"Wha?" Keith asked, tired and confused.
With a long breath through his nose Lance decided he had to go all in with this one. "We should talk, and when it's over, after we say all the things we never wanted to say, we can see if we still think we're worth it or not, OK?"
Keith leaned into Lance, giving in. "OK," he agreed.
oOoOo
The night was hot and muggy. The pavement still radiated heat from the Cuban summer sun that had set only an hour ago.
Ritza was leaning on the doorframe as Lance came up the walkway, late for his curfew. Keith trailed behind him with a defiant look on his face, as if challenging Maritza to point it out. She winked at Keith over Lance's shoulder and then looked down as her brother approached the porch. "So, did you enjoy your date?" She teased.
"It wasn't a date!" Keith and Lance yelled at the same time.
"RITZA!" Lance added in his most offended tone for good measure.
Maritza smirked down at him, but Lance was close enough to see that her smile was bent forcefully, trembling at the ends. Her makeup was smudged and her eyes were slightly red rimmed. His quick trot slowed to a shuffle as he noticed more and more signs of distress. "Are you ok?" he asked as he came to a stop at the entrance. Keith came up on his right and remained silent.
Maritza didn't answer. A stone dropped in Lance's chest. "Was it that jerk again?" He asked.
She looked behind her into the house and then back at Lance. "He asked to see me, but when I got there he was acting strange and scaring me, so I left." She glanced down the street and then back at her brother and his friend. "I think he was following me…" she whispered.
Her eyes quivered and Lance could see the fear in them, but she was trying to play it off. He went along with it while planning to bring it up to their mama.
Maritza glanced down the dark street again and then at Keith, smiling more naturally this time. "Why don't you spend the night Keith, I would worry if you walked home in the dark," she offered casually, but the weight of the worry was noticeable in her voice.
Keith looked down at his feet with a little blush on his cheeks, then back up at Lance's sister and agreed with a small nod. "Thanks," he muttered and slipped past her into the house. The up beat greetings from Lance's mother and her usual coddling of Keith played out, muffled in the house.
Lance tried to follow Keith past his sister, ready to bring up calling the cops or something to their mama, but Maritza bared his way with her arm across the door frame. "Oh no little bro, you gotta spill. Did you do it?" She made a kissy face at him.
Lance was completely derailed by the tonal shift. Normally he would play it off and tell Ritza to not to be stupid, but the blood rushed to his face before he could try.
"Oh my god, did you really?" She gasped.
Lance shrugged. "Not all that… but we- Keith." He was sure his face turned another shade of red as he tried to explain. "Itwasonekiss," he managed to mumble out.
Maritza covered her mouth to hold in her squeal. From between her fingers she asked. "And he was…" she paused to try and phrase it appropriately, "receptive?"
Lance was so embarrassed he couldn't form a sentence. Flushed from toe to tip he just nodded.
With a satisfied air Maritza removed her arm from the doorway. "Welp, I'm glad I said no to the arcade when you asked."
Lance slid past her into the house. "Me too," he muttered as he went by into the house.
oOoOo
Lance's fingertip was cold, the skin was stained purple, and he couldn't stop crying. "You're terrible at this," he complained and sniffled.
Despite the insult Keith continued to rub at Lance's fingernail with the cotton ball soaked in nail polish remover. "Shut up, dummy," he snapped, unable to let the insult slide completely.
The two small boys were hiding in a bush in the yard behind Lance's house in Cuba. Keith hadn't been there in his reality. Lance had been alone in his yard that day. He remembered sleeping there until Ritza found him.
Lance pouted and wiped his nose on the back of his free arm. "no me digas qué hacer," he whined.
"I will when I'm covering for you like this, Ace," Keith retorted. He moved to the next finger, rubbing harder this time.
Lance huffed, annoyed that Keith was picking up spanish so fast even though he only transferred a few months ago, took the fun out of it. He knew he was being defensive because he was ashamed. He curled around his anger for support. "Well, Ritza does it better," he said snidely.
Keith threw down the cotton ball and glared. "But Maritza isn't here, she's at work, and your mom is on a trip, and your other sisters are too scared to stand up to your dumb uncle who won't let you back in the house with nail polish on!" he yelled back with no remorse, his small hands curled into fists.
Lance didn't recoil, he was used to Keith's outbursts and knew he was safe, but he also knew he was being a jerk. "Sorry…" he mumbled.
After a few moments Keith picked the cotton ball back up and continued working. "I'm sorry, too. Your uncles a big jerk."
Lance chuckled and wiped the last of his tears away. "Yeah, he is."
Keith smirked, but didn't look up from his work. "And you're lucky Shiro got me a real nail set so I would stop using Sharpies."
That got Lance to laugh for real and Keith held his fingers a little tighter.
oOoOo
In his Paladin armor he almost felt young again, But watching the Lion candidates below on the training deck reminded him just how old he was. He had trouble remembering a time he was that green. Lance sighed and fiddled with his bayard.
Keith sat down on his right with a clank of his armor. "Thinking about how old we are?" He asked, even though he knew.
"Were we ever-" Lance began
Keith cut in. "That shitty? You yes, me no."
Lance ignored the jab and pointed at one of the young snipers. "I mean look at that kid. When I was his age I could hit a target that small while it was moving. Remember when I made that-"
"Shot on planet Chuhan that was over a thousand meters away and moving, and saved us all?" Keith finished.
Lance huffed and Red and Blue rumbled with amusement in his head. "Well yeah… you forgot to mention that it was between two volatile tanks of quintessence that could have exploded if I'd missed, not that it would-"
Keith jumped in again. "Would have mattered because we would have died anyway if you hadn't have tried to make the shot, I know, Ace."
Lance grumbled under his breath, then waved a dismissive hand at the training room floor. "My point is these kids suck."
Keith looked down again. "Yeah, they really do, but we're getting old, time for a change."
Lance crossed his arms. "Not that old, only fifty five…"
With a laugh Keith threw an arm over Lance's shoulder. "Old enough for a rest if we can get some of these kids up to speed."
Lance smiled. "That does sound nice, but IF is the operative word."
"True, true." Keith agreed.
"Love you, Ace"
"Love you too, Rojo"
oOoOo
"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?!"
Keith was angry, but his bangs we're sticking up from behind his blue knit headband, making his ears twitch when the hair touched the tip of them, and it was hard to take him seriously. Lance attempted to arrange his face and looked back with his most innocent wide eyed expression. "What?" He tried to sound as hurt as he hoped he looked.
Keith crossed his arms and leaned his weight onto one foot, too exasperated to stand straight. "Don't play dumb, I sense that you're not hurt!" He barked, and Lance tried to focus but the curling ends of Keith's bangs bounced when he yelled. Lance's traveling eyes weren't subtle and Keith sighed. "Lance, focus! Why did I have to find out from Black that it's your birthday?!" He whined, and threw his arms out with his disbelief.
Lance's eyes snapped to Keith's, and with a hint of real hurt he gasped. "That traitor!"
"It's not traitorous if I piloted him before you," Keith pointed out.
Horror dawned on Lance and he grabbed his own head in panic, dislodging the pink clip holding his shaggy white hair. "Does that mean Blue is telling Allura things about me?!" He yelled, shaking his head and sending his hair clip clattering to the ground.
Keith tipped his head in confusion and one ear twitched again. "What does that have to-"
Lance didn't even have time to admire how cute Keith looked. He turned on the spot and spirited away, yelling over his shoulder as he ran. "Sorry babe, we can continue this later!
Keith shook his head slowly, not bothering to run after his boyfriend. He picked up the pink clip from the floor and slowly followed Lance.
oOoOo
A camcorder image warms up slowly. It's old and doesn't seem to do well in low light. When the picture clears the frame is dangerously close to Keith. His face is shadowed under the twilight sky, the closest to night this planet seems to get. He's mostly a silhouette, granny and slightly distorted by the struggling Camera.
Lance wanders into frame and the camera zooms out. blurry foliage now surrounds the edge of the picture.
A long conversation takes place that the old mic can't pick up.
Suddenly Lance takes a deep breath and clenches his fists like he's trying to hold in something overwhelming, then he opens his hands and reaches out. He grabs Keith's face on both sides and lunges forward, kissing Keith hard. It's very quick and Lance pulls back sharply and slaps both hands over his mouth. "Sorry!" he yells, muffled by his hands but loud enough for the old mic to pick up.
There's a collective intake of breath behind the camera.
Keith slowly touches his lips, absolutely floored. Then he shakes his head and says something that sounds like "Don't be" through the static. Carefully, as if Lance is a skittish deer, Keith pulls Lance's hands from his mouth, leans in, and kisses him. Lance's eyes are huge, but slowly they close, and he kisses back.
"YES!" Hunk screams in excitement, with a loud burst rustling.
"Hunk get down!" Pidge hisses, and it sounds like them and Shiro are straining to make Hunk crouch back down as the camera shakes.
Keith and Lance launch apart. For a split second Keith looks at Lance with a hint of betrayal, but Lance is glaring murder into the camera and as he yells. "I TOLD YOU TO STOP FILMING ME!"
Keith looks in the direction of the camera. "Shiro?!" He shouts in surprise.
oOoOo
"What if we never met?" Lance wondered out loud.
Keith snorted, bouncing Lance's head that was resting on his stomach. "That's not possible," he said firmly.
Lance turned his head and looked at the underside of Keith's chin. "How would you know?" he asked, twiddling a blade of grass between his fingers.
Keith opened his eyes which had been closed against the afternoon sun. "because I do," he replied vaguely and stroked Lance's short hair.
"Well, what if we had met when we were younger, or maybe even older?" Lance asked, a little whiny.
"I'm sure we have," Keith replied without hesitation.
Lance hummed in agreement. "Your breaks almost over," he reminded Keith.
"Will the customers die if they have to wait five more minutes for their coffee?" Keith asked with a sigh.
Lance laughed, "probably not, but they might track you down to kill you." He hauled himself upright ignoring Keith's whine. "Come on," Lance prodded, poking Keith in the side. "I got to get back to the flower shop or Ritza might end up killing me!"
Keith rolled to his side making a big show of preparing to stand. "Fiiiiiiiiiiiine," he groaned as he sat up.
Lance leaned in for a quick kiss, "I'll see you after work." then he jumped to his feet and jogged away waving to Keith over his shoulder.
oOoOo
Side by side, they were always side by side. Now on a beautiful day in Cuba, Lance would agree to spend the rest of his life with Keith.
The sand was in flames and distant thunder threatened rain, but Lance could look up as the sky cracked and smile. He could endure as it soaked him to the bone and would happily stand in the mist it created with the hot sand. He would thank it for cooling the air, and laugh as he ran across the wet beach with Keith.
Nothing could ruin his wedding day.
oOoOo
A̷̡̨͉̯̱̻͍̼̣͉̥̥ͣͬ͂̄̄́͟ͅ ̸̷̙̺͖͇̩̞̺̱̊ͥ͊̔́ͧ̿̾͛ͥ̈́̚f͇̦̰͉̥̭̜̣̙͚̯͍͙̣̹̌͛̒ͪͣ̿ͯ͒̔ͧ̌͂ͯ̽̈͒̚͢a̶̡̖̝̠̋ͬ̋̌͛ͪ͐ͨ̂̊̔ͬ̇ͩͥ͝ͅi̶̲̗͖̭̦̩̙̳̣̝̝͎̲̱͊̈́̓ͭ͐̔ͭ̔ͨ̇ͯ͢͜n̡̜̰̣̳̱̥̼̩̤̈́̓̅ͥ̽̽ͭͦͧ͆͋͊ͣ̎́́́̕t̙̮͔̫̳ͦ̒̐̂̓̿̆ͭͣ̈́͛͗̀͝ ̴͎̠̗͚̗͎̖͖̱̰̬̱̮̪͈̺͌ͧͥ̊̓̀̉́̋ͨ͋̒̑͐ͭ̽̚͢s̸̐̆͊ͨͩ̏̅ͬͣ̂̿ͮͬ͏͔̫̺͚͕͕͖͓͝ͅḯ̸́ͩ̓̅̒͗͜͜͞҉͔̣̳̺̤͓̪̳̹̩͇l̷̜̱̘̜̲͕̪̲̹̮̘͇̘̗̗͚̟ͧ͛ͤ͌̊͒ͫ̆ͮ̆ͤ̾ͤͪͤͪͭ͢h͇̩͖͙̯͖̬̦͍̙̪͉̋̑̔ͩͭͧ̓̍̃̓̚͟ͅo̷̴̧͍̼͉̹̹̖̞͖̝̱̝̟̩͎̩ͪ́̾͂ͣ͗ͣ̒̌̒̅̑̇ͩ̐̓u̗̥̪͓̘̲͍̪̫̫͚͇̜̜̝͗͋ͭ̄͌ͪͬ̔̐ͨ̄̅͋̊̌̅ͩ͐̆̀͟͝ȩ̬̫̞̬̭͓͓̱̘̬̤̜̙̤͖̲͓̐͌̾̐͋̎ͬ̂ͭͧͮͦ̀ͅţ̧͍̣̤̞͂̎̐̌ͦ̓̅̍̾ͯ̕͝t̢͆̓́ͩ͌ͭͨ͛ͧͦ̉̀҉̭̠͈̼̣͓̀͠ȩ̶͍̤͎̥͙͔ͫ͋ͤ̾̄̅́͘͠ ͓̦͚̖̰̻̝̬̩̲̠̖͈͍ͨͪ̿̓̊̀̀̽ͭ̌̓̾ͧͣ̌̾̔̐̎͠o̽̒̄͑̾̀͜͜҉̮̹̺͈f̢̥͙̬̺̪́ͧ̒̔̇̋͌̏͋̃͂ͩ̒ͣ͌̔͟͞ ̢͎̘͖͕͎͈̤͈͙͆ͨ͋͋̀͞͞a̴̧̛̗͕̼̩͓̲̳͇̘͓͓͕̣̣̫̲͆̓ͩͫͥ͋̊͊̓ͥͧ̈ͮͧ̽ͣ̒͡ ̵̢̛̬̦̺͕͔̖̱̹̲̯̣̥ͧ͐̔̿ͥ̈́̍̈́ͥͥ̚̚̚͡m̵̛͚̩̰̦͙͉̜͔̳͍̑͑͆̿͑͊͆̚͟͟͠ͅaͨ̑̔͑͂͏̢̢̣̗̺̘̱̯̥ň̛̘̥̦̗̝̳̯͚͇̏́ͤ̀̓͛͢ ̵́̅ͭ̀̄̇ͦ̌ͣ̐ͯͣ̌ͯ͗͐̈̕҉̶̰͈̙͖̜̣̰͚̙͙
O̷̶̶͚̼̩̤͔̹͘n̢̼͔̪̟̝̗̜͍͜͞ ̣̮͓̩͘͡͠a͏͜͏͔̤̼͖͕̥̘̦̻̞̗͍̮̞̜͈͇ ̡̭̹̼̻̭̳̗̞̟̻̮̱̱̟̪͍̤͙͚h͏̢̙͖͇̹͕͍̫̳̳̪̀͟i̢̮̲̟͖̱̰͕͡ĺ̷͍̣̰̗̻͟l̶̶̥͔̭͠ ̴̸͔̖̟͉̦̭͇͚̞̭̦̦̗͍͇̯͠ǫ̜͉̺̝̠͎͔̻͙̱͇̦͓̦̘̬́͟ͅf̡͔̣̪͡ͅ ̵̵̨̹̩͇͉͔̭̠̗t͏͠͞͏̙̺̪̭̝̝͙̜̟̤̻̤̖̪̺a͝͏̞̪̹͇̗ͅg̢͕̟͕͔̭͕͕͉̙̖̠̹̦̫̩̗͟ͅͅg̀҉̨͕̩̥̻e̸̼̭̠͕̮̝̱̖͚̗̭̲͈̝̰̕͟ḑ̢̮̮̜͓͚͖̫͈̦̟̲͠ ̷̳̦̻̘̖͈̗̖͚͚̳̖ͅe͏̬̜̥̮̖̦̲͚͚̪̟̪̰̟͙̯̮͝a̙̟͍̼̖̙̺̤͉̥̙͈͟͠r̙̲̤͠t̨̡͖͖̗̼̫̖͈̝͈̦̼̳̦̻͓́h͘҉̷͈͚̘͖̘̰̩̟́́,̢̟̠̼̮̻̀́͜͡ ̶̶͘͏̵̗̹̩ ̸̢̣͇͖͉̹̞͙͇̪̩̥͇͚̤́͝
Ç̙͇̘̠̤u̡̮̟͍̘̜̻̞͙̕͠r̶̛͎̼̝̮̖̳ͅͅl̸̤̗͔͚͎̩é̴͉͍̩͎ḏ͇͍͖̝͚ ̢͔͖̠ͅo̵̧͎̞̪̪̯̱̘̘̳͞v͍͍̭̳̠̠̀͟e̡̗̥͎͍̰͠r͚̭̣̗ ̶̙̯̬̖̟͙̳͙ţ̗̝͈̩͜o̼̯̰̝͔͔̫̕͘p̨̛̖̼ ̢̼̩̤̜̣͇h̪̺́͠ͅi̴͇̖͎͍̥s̝̘̀͞͞ ̶̶͙̟̖̙̩̭ͅp̱͉̣̣̘͢͞a̷̳̜̣͞i҉̣̙ṇ͉̮̦͚̗̜̭̀̕͟.̩̫͈̬͙̯̙
̵̤̫̇͐͛ͭ͒ͤ
H̛̖̣͔̪͖͈͇̙̟̕͞ẹ͎̬͈͞ ̴̭͎̘͍̳͔̰̭m̨̡͈͉a҉̢̪̕d̛̜͙̹͓̬͉e̶̼͚̺͙ ̷͇̦̟̮̣͉͚̙̫ḁ͇̼̣̫͟ ͖͚̳̫̠̦̜͝f̮͙̗̱̳̰̱̦į̶̹̬̲̯̦̀ś̷̷̳ͅţ҉̸̱͖ ̶̵̥̣̻͇͈̻̀a̢̧͈̬̼͙̭͉͉̱͞r̪͝o̘̟̳u̗̘̜n̫̫̱̰͉͘d̷̲̘͍̻͖͉̕͢ ̺͚̝͝i͈̲̼̥̗̤͈̮ṱ̛̺̘͓̠͙̞,̢̯̗͕̖͈̲͟͞
Ą̯̘̦͓̠͇̕n̦̟d͕͉͕̫̳͎̲ ̵̧̗̘͇̯͍̗̖̮w̬͈͖̳̰̲a̙̮̮̺̫̲̯s̫͎͍͚̩̜̱̀͘ͅ ̧̢̞̖̪̮̗͜ͅͅa̸̷̫̗͍̦̹̹̺̮̮n҉̳͖̱͇̲͚̘̩ͅ ̨̡͉̪̫̪̝̟̻̗a̷̡̤͝r̸̴̢̘c̶͎̬̝͢ ̝̝͉͝o̩̹̮̮ͅf͏̲͈̘̤̠͔ͅ ̧̦̤̹͓g͕͚̼̕r͓͇̺̙͍͎̖͈͢͢i҉̷̣̱ḛ͖̗̩͖̀f̖̦̥̺̹̱̙̯͘.̹̬̫͘͢
K̷͉͓͇͙͎̰͎n̴̺͉̬͓̥̥̪e̴̳͚̦͉̝e̢̬̰͙̗̫̫s̳ͅ ̱͙̙̖͞ó̹̲͕͖͖n̸̤͓̠̪ ̷̟̘l͉͇͞o̡̜̼̳̜͎̜o͏̹̙̟̤̹ͅs̰̻͔̬e̥̰͔̥͚̟̹ ̘̣͞d̸͕̫͕̼įr̵̗͕̜͕̹̟t,҉̗̹̗̞̯̤ͅ
H͔͓̜́e̷͇̭̟̮a͖̣d̜̞ ҉͚͎o̤̦̯̝̹n̶̻̙ ̲̺̘͕͍̕s̴̲̗̟̫͚̹t̥̼͍̺̭o̶̜n̶e͙̝͞,
H̘e ̪̞̤̪̞̦c̹̘͓r͚i̮͉̟͖̥e̮̲͔̥̦̺d̬̤͖̙̞̘.̮̯̻͕̥
͚͖̻͎̖̖̩
̟̣̖͉̪͍ͅ
̜͕̤͖̱ͅ
AN- I almost named this chapter "It always ends with death", but I couldn't fit in a way to explain that the reality jumping always ends on a world where one the the Noye is dead.
The Next chapter might take a bit longer, maybe two weeks rather than one. I still have like the final page left to write, and that's only of I don't get carried away like I sometimes do. Then I need to edit the chapter for the final time. At least I already know how I want to end it so I wont get all caught up in brain storming.