Lance follows Keith to the training deck, humming at the thought of finally getting to fight again after going so long without so much as kicking someone. He certainly has enough pent up energy to release, and with so much uncertainty in the air, it'll be good to take his mind off Sendak for an hour.
And, Lance hopes, this training session will make Keith feel better about their plan.
If all goes well, Keith won't have to worry so much about Lance meeting Sendak, face to face. Not that he ever had a reason to worry- despite everything, Lance is absolutely certain Sendak won't hurt him. But if training eases Keith's mind, then why not?
Arriving at the deck, Lance releases Keith's hand and walks around, surveying the room curiously. He'd peeked inside before to watch Keith and Shiro, but he hadn't paid much attention to the room itself. There was all manner of weaponry hanging on the walls. Lance can identify the usage of most of them, but there are some weapons that Lance stares at, perplexed.
"What the hell is that?" Lance asks, pointing at a thick, metallic object the length of his forearm.
Keith tilts his head.
"Uh," he pauses, "I think it's a Draxiorian bomb. Kinda like a sound pulse, I think."
Lance frowns, giving the Draxiorian bomb one last look before following Keith to the opposite wall, where he picks out a sword with such familiarity, he must've used it before.
"We, um, we never really got a chance to hone our skills back when-" Keith exhales, "before, so... Pick what interests you."
Lance looks up at the wall, considering. He's never touched a sword, much the less fought with one before. He picks a blade up, and its weight is awkward in his palm.
As he turns to return it, Lance's eye is caught by what looked like a rifle. He places the sword back in its place and walks over to the opposite wall, carefully pulling the rifle down. He's never held one of these before, either, but somehow the weight on his shoulder feels a lot more natural.
"I like this," Lance declares and steps back to show it off to Keith. He eyes Keith's sword and grins. "But I can't bring a gun into a swordfight, can I?"
Keith meets his eyes and lifts a brow.
"I'm more than capable of handling whatever you give me," he says with a lift of his chin.
Lance laughs and places the rifle back on the wall.
"I'm not gonna try to shoot you," Lance admonishes. "Not without good aim. I could accidentally hurt you."
Keith chuckles and for a moment, looks like he's about to say something, but he apparently thinks better of it and turns to the swords.
"How about you try that one?" He suggests, pointing at a thin, lightweight blade.
Lance walks back to the blades and picks up the one Keith had suggested. It doesn't feel as natural as the rifle, but it doesn't feel as heavy and awkward as the large sword he'd picked up before. He gives it a few experimental swipes, feeling a little silly, and looks up at Keith.
"I like it better than the first one," Lance agrees. "So, what do I do with it?"
Keith smiles and nods. He walks towards Lance, taking his blade, and lifts it up to meet his own.
"I'm going to teach you how to predict my movements."
Lance nods, pressing his blade against Keith's. Keith moves almost annoyingly slow, but it gives Lance ample time to notice the rise and fall of Keith's arms and shoulders, of the way he twists this way and that before aiming a blow.
After about twenty minutes of blocking, Lance's confidence grows and his brow, furrowed in concentration, smoothens. He grins and blocks another blow.
"Where did you learn how to fight?" Lance asks conversationally. "You took down those guys from the Garrison when you swooped in to save Shiro, so it was before the arena, right?"
Keith nods and quickens his movements.
"A little bit from everywhere," he replies before clearing his throat. "My dad taught me basic defense when I was a kid, and I had to sorta fend for myself in the foster home."
He starts to move forward, forcing Lance to block him or step back.
"And Shiro, he taught me a little bit. But it was mostly, just, teaching myself," he says as their swords hit.
Lance hums his understanding, too focused on Keith's movements and blocking them in order to meet Keith's eyes and nod.
"That's pretty cool," Lance says, dodging a stab aimed at his shoulder. "I fought sometimes with my brothers and sisters, but my parents usually intervened before it got serious. I wish I'd learned before... Before all this," Lance adds and frowns.
Before he can elaborate, however, Lance stumbles just as Keith aims his blade at his arm. Lance's eyes widen and he winces, ready to feel pain, but it doesn't come.
His relief, however, is short-lived. Keith drops his sword with a pained hiss long before the blow lands.
Lance knows that Keith would do anything not to hurt him, he's told him as much, but the way Keith had dropped the sword was... It didn't look voluntary. And the pain doesn't make sense.
"Keith," Lance drops his blade as well and rushes towards his alpha, heart pounding with adrenaline. He places a worried hand on Keith's shoulder.
"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
Keith exhales and flexes his fingers.
"I'm fine," he says gruffly after a moment. He extends his hand and places it over Lance's. "Just, I must've pulled something," he reasons with a frown and then insists, "don't worry."
Lance mirrors Keith's frown, not entirely convinced. Keith would never just 'pull something' during a duel. And even if he did, he'd ignore the pain. The timing was suspicious as well.
"We should stop. Maybe go to the medbay and get your arm checked out," Lance thinks out loud and worries his lip. He doesn't know why this is freaking him out so much, but there was just something so unnatural about the way Keith had dropped his sword. It unnerves him.
Keith shakes his head.
"No, it's fine, Lance, I don't... It doesn't need to be looked at. I'm fine. Really." He pauses. "We can pick this up later, though," he agrees and shifts his hand to Lance's waist.
Lance gives Keith a dubious look, intent on arguing his case, but he pauses at Keith's expression and sighs. Maybe they'll look into it later. Or maybe it'll never happen again.
"Fine," Lance grumbles and reaches out to cup Keith's chin, brushing his thumb over Keith's cheek. His expression brightens and he gives Keith a teasing grin.
"I did well, though, didn't I?"
Keith's eyes soften.
"Yeah, Lance, you weren't half bad," he says fondly. "We'll keep working on it."
Lance beams, satisfied with Keith's praise. He knows Keith was going easy on him, but Lance would like to think that he could hold his own against another beginner warrior. Maybe someone like Xavid.
The thought makes him snort and lean his head on Keith's chest, closing his eyes as he inhales his soothing scent. The last of his worry leaves his body as he relaxes.
Keith is right there, next to him, unharmed. Whatever happened must've been a fluke- a lucky one, at that. Lance has the feeling Keith would never touch him again if he accidentally hurt him, and that would never do.
Keith lifts his hand and places it on Lance's head, combing through his hair.
"Hey, you okay?" He asks. "This... This thing with Sendak, are you-" he exhales, "you okay?" He repeats softly.
Lance's shoulders stiffen at the mention of Sendak and he carefully pulls away, despite the way he'd enjoyed Keith's fingers in his hair.
"...I don't know," Lance says quietly. "I don't know what I'm going to say to him. I keep thinking about it, but nothing- nothing sounds right," Lance grits his teeth and digs his nails into his palms. "I don't know how I'm going to convince him to give me Vhix."
Keith sighs and shifts his hands to Lance's sides.
"You know him better than any of us," he points out. "If there's a way to argue for your son, then, you'll find a way."
He shifts a hand to take Lance's chin.
"But we're going to support you regardless," he promises, their eyes meeting.
Lance wants to argue that there might just not be a way to convince Sendak to hand their son over to him, that it was stupid to even hope for it, but as he meets Keith's gaze, Lance can't bring himself to say so.
His friends are willing to risk their lives to give him this opportunity. He has to believe that there's hope.
"Okay," Lance says and forces a smile.
Keith smiles back and lets go of his chin.
"Come on, let's get cleaned up," he says slowly, offering his hand.
Lance nods and takes it, allowing Keith to lead them out of the training deck.
.x.
"Remember," Lotor starts, walking around the seated group with a set expression, "if we are to reunite Voltron, you need to open yourselves to each other. This means sharing the good with the bad. This is the only way we will succeed."
He motions to the devices in their hands.
"Now place these upon your heads," he prompts.
Lance looks down at the device and runs his fingers over the cold metal. He doesn't know why Lotor is pushing a team bonding activity on them right now. They should be focusing on their meeting with Sendak. But Lance did promise to cooperate and be the Blue Paladin again. So if Lotor wants team Voltron to bond... Well.
Here goes nothing.
Lance exchanges a glance with Hunk, who looks a little pale, and raises his hands to place the device on his head. He closes his eyes and tries to focus. The last time they did this exercise, his first thought had been about his family. They hadn't even had the chance to peer into each other's minds before Pidge broke the connection.
"Alright," Lotor's smooth voice breaks the silence. "Let us begin with something simple to ease you into this exercise. Please think of a good memory. Ideally, something recent that's still fresh in your minds."
Lance's first thought is Keith in their bed, a firm weight on top of him as Keith mouths at his mark on Lance's neck. Lance immediately opens his eyes, embarrassed, and closes his eyes again, furiously focusing on Hunk's cookies instead. He can still taste their sugary goodness on his tongue from last night's dinner.
"Maintain this thought, keep your minds open to seeing these thoughts," Lotor's voice pierced the silence.
Lance continues to think about Hunk's cookies, focuses on them, and keeps the image and taste in his mind. He opens his eyes for a moment, curious to see what his friends are thinking about, and is drawn to Shiro's screen. There is an unfamiliar man on his screen- dark, with glasses, and a ring that shines on his finger.
It didn't look like a recent memory, and the edges were blurry, but the man's happy face was bright and vivid. Lance wonders who he is.
Lotor clears his throat.
"Open your minds to each other," he instructs. "The only way for you to bond is to share your vulnerabilities with each other."
Lance closes his eyes again, chastened by Lotor's raised brow as he walks past him, and tries to focus on his memory. Lotor's wording, however, triggers other memories that start to surface. There was nothing vulnerable about Hunk's cookies. There was plenty of vulnerability about his conversation with Hunk all that time ago, when he confessed that Sendak wanted to fuck him. And Hunk had advised him to let it happen.
Lance's eyes flash open, displeased at the uncalled memory, and catches Hunk's flinch. Lance immediately feels a stab of guilt in his chest. Had Hunk seen his memory? Had any of the others? He hadn't meant to think about it. He'd just been thinking about Hunk. And vulnerability.
Biting his lip, Lance closes his eyes and tries to think about something entirely unrelated.
"Remember, being vulnerable with each other also means sharing unpleasant moments. You will be stronger for it."
Lance's mind wanders at Lotor's prompt, flitting from one unpleasant memory to another. There are some memories that surface from his past, such as the day he received the notice that he'd be in the cargo pilot class rather than the fighter pilot class he'd been aiming for, but most of his memories are recent.
As happy as Lance had seen himself with Sendak, there was an alarming amount of bad memories that Lance had never thought to revisit. He remembers kneeling in front of Zarkon, informed that he has no other use other than to be made an example of. He thinks of the displays Sendak had taken him to, how each one turned into a disaster. He thinks of the hours he spent on his knees in the Bad Place, the hours he spent on his knees banging and screaming at the door to be let out of his and Sendak's room.
But the memory that sticks and forces itself to replay in Lance's mind is the memory of a stranger's hands on him, violating him, while Sendak silently watches.
Tears well in Lance's closed eyes, stinging him as he relives the humiliation.
He hears Keith whimpering next to him, and then there's a hand on his own, threading their fingers together and squeezing.
Lance gasps as memories that are not his own flood his mind. Memories of Keith standing next to a tombstone. Of older boys hitting Keith in what looked like an orphanage, stealing a snack from his hand. Keith receiving the news of Shiro's disappearance.
Lance wants to pull away, both physically and mentally. The pain keeps getting worse and worse, the memories grow darker once Keith is on his knees, spitting at Zarkon. Lance sees, experiences memories of pain. Of loneliness. Of sorrow. So much guilt, so much desperation.
His stomach turns as the image of Keith, drenched in the blood of his first victim, comes to mind.
It's horrible.
Before Lance can tear the device off his head, other memories stream into his mind as well. He sees someone who could only be of Pidge's brother, crying out in pain as his finger falls to the floor in front of a disbelieving Pidge. He sees Shiro lunging at Keith, aware of his actions but unable to stop himself from aiming at Keith's throat.
He sees Hunk grab a sharp tool from his working bench and plunging it into his neck. He feels Hunk's horror at opening his eyes and finding himself alive, with nothing but a scar to mark his misery.
Lance can't take it anymore. He grabs the device and yanks it off his head, cutting off his mental connection to the others. His breathing is labored and there are tears streaming down his face. His knuckles whiten around the device before he sets it down on the floor, glaring daggers at Lotor.
"This is supposed to connect us?" Lance demands in a trembling voice.
Lotor turns to look at Lance with a stoic expression.
"I never said this would be simple, Lance, nor that it will be easy. Perhaps before your trauma, bonding would have been a snap."
The rest of the team pulls off their headgear as well, all looking shaken.
"But your trauma is not something to be ignored, nor will hiding it from each other lead to a resulting victory," Lotor points out. His eyes soften. "I understand this brings you pain, but to recover not only the Lions but your connection with each other, you must be vulnerable with one another."
Lance wants to fault Lotor's logic, but he can't. It makes sense. Doesn't mean he wants to cooperate, though. He's entirely overwhelmed by the need to comfort everyone in the room.
Shiro, whose humanity had been stripped of him. Pidge, who was blackmailed into servitude. Hunk, who was so miserable he tried to take his own life and failed. And Keith.
Keith, who had been forced to do horrible, horrible things in order to survive, and was forced to watch his best friend turn into a killing machine.
Lance's lips tremble and he grabs Keith's hand, pulling them both to their feet. He has to get away, and he has to comfort his mate. He'll speak to the rest of his team later, but for now- Keith needs him. And Lance needs Keith.
"We're going," Lance announces and tugs Keith out of the room. Storming out is more Keith's thing, but Lance doesn't think he can stand being with everyone and their memories for one second longer.
Keith doesn't fight him as he's yanked out of the room, but as they leave, his feet stagger and he pulls Lance back towards him. Lance allows Keith to hold him close, indulges in his embrace for a minute, before taking a step back. He needs to comfort his mate, and the hallway wasn't adequate.
"Come," Lance says in a gentle, but firm tone. He leads Keith to their bedroom and lies down on the bed. Guiding Keith to hover above him, Lance pulls his alpha down to nose at his neck, to inhale his scent.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Lance murmurs.
Keith trembles. He closes his eyes mournfully and shifts to his side to slip his arms around Lance's waist.
"What is there to say..." He says hoarsely, then opens his eyes to look at Lance. "Do you?"
"No," Lance says immediately and pulls away from Keith's neck to meet his eyes. "I mean- not right now. Not when we're both feeling this way," he reasons and goes quiet. His gaze flits from Keith's eyes to his lips, and without thinking anything of it, Lance leans in to press their mouths together.
It feels right. Natural.
Keith leans into the kiss before pulling away and shifting his arms around Lance.
"Okay," he whispers and tucks himself against Lance, sorrowful and quiet.
Lance chases after the momentary reprieve of the kiss as Keith pulls away. He hooks a leg over Keith's hip and presses close, pecking Keith's lips again before trailing down his chin, down his neck. He stops to nibble at the mark he'd left, chest blossoming with pride.
He'd managed to find himself a handsome alpha. A strong alpha.
"Lance, please," Keith says softly and pulls away. He cups Lance's cheeks before pecking his lips and pressing their foreheads together.
"Not right now."
Lance doesn't understand as Keith pulls away. Even the hands cupping his cheeks and the lips pecking his own aren't enough to soften the blow of rejection. He blinks and pulls away from Keith's touch, confused.
"Why?" Lance asks, voice tight. His touch has never been rejected before. Sendak always accepted it. Keith has, too. So what has changed?
"Don't you want to feel better?" Lance rephrases his question, confused and hurt.
Keith swallows and meets his eyes.
"Sure, it'd be good not to feel," he exhales, "feel like this, but-"
He shifts and brushes hair from Lance's eyes.
"I would much rather hold you, than, um," his cheeks flush, "I think we can feel better in other ways," he ends with a waver in his voice.
Lance frowns. He can tell that Keith's rejection doesn't have to do with him. He hasn't been faulted for anything. Yet the rejection still burns. Lance doesn't think he can let go of it until he understands why it happened.
"When... When Sendak was in a bad mood, this always helped," Lance offers. Now that Keith has made it clear that he isn't interested, Lance doesn't have to worry about ruining the mood, as Sendak's name always seemed to do in their conversations.
"I just want you to feel better."
Keith's eyes narrow, though his hand caresses Lance's cheek.
"Lance," he says slowly, "I know this is what Sendak wanted. But I'm not him. I just... I don't want sex right now, I just want to hold you, alright? It's okay to find other ways to feel better," he whispers.
Lance gives Keith a long look, searching his face, before eventually nodding. He feels like he's been snapped out of some sort of haze. It had been so obvious to him what he wanted to do, what he had to do, that he hadn't even considered asking Keith what he wanted. It had all just seemed like... The natural course of things.
But apparently that wasn't the case. Keith isn't Sendak.
"Okay," Lance says softly and hesitates for a moment before inching closer. He tips Keith onto his back and slowly climbs on top of him, tucking his head under Keith's chin as Keith's arms come to wrap around his waist. This is how they've been falling asleep lately, and as Lance closes his eyes and listens to Keith's heartbeat, his body relaxes.
Maybe Keith is right.
.x.
The next day seems to go in a blur as they begin to near Lotor's chosen meeting destination with Sendak. Despite spending most of their time together, Lance hasn't exchanged more than a few sentences with Keith since waking up. He can feel Keith's tension, and at this point, Lance can't separate it from his own.
"You should eat," Keith says, pushing a bowl in front of Lance as they sit at the small kitchen table.
Lance looks down at the bowl and shakes his head.
"No, you should eat," he slides the bowl back. "I don't think I can keep anything down."
How can he? Today is the day. Today he's going to see Sendak for the last time. He's going to have to say goodbye. And if Lance doesn't manage to convince Sendak to let him keep Vhix-
Lance swallows down the bile burning in his throat. No. He can't even think about it.
Keith's concern is etched all over his face, from the furrow in his brow to the downturned curl of his lips.
"If I try, will you?" He compromises, offering Lance a spoon.
Lance thinks it over before reluctantly taking the spoon and shoving a mouthful of whatever it was into his mouth.
"There," he huffs. "Your turn."
Keith's expression brightens and reaches around to poke Lance's cheek.
"Mhm," he says, taking the spoon and dipping it into the bowl.
Before he has time to lift it into his mouth, however, the entire ship rocks violently.
Lance's eyes widen as the ship makes him lose his balance and flings him into Keith's arms. His body stiffens as the alarm sounds and a voice that sounds a lot like Acxa's calmly repeats "the ship has been breached" over and over again, like a broken record.
Come to think of it, it probably was. And Lance has a good idea who might've done the breaching.
The thought immobilizes him.
Lance sees a flash of light and sound. Pain. He sees Keith being flung away. Allura and Shiro held down. Pidge unmoving on the floor. Hunk falling to his knees with a shout. And Coran-
Lance blinks and Coran is gone. Instead, Keith is in his face, shaking his shoulders with a grim expression.
"Lance, hey, hey, you need to snap out of it," he says firmly, gripping Lance's shoulders and giving him a shake. "We need to move."
"O-okay," Lance says in a small voice. His mouth has never felt so dry.
Keith looks at Lance with a serious expression.
"Everything is going to be okay," he promises.
Lance nods. He knows it's a lie. But he chooses to believe it. He clings to Keith's hand like a lifeline as they go through the halls, trying to find the others while remaining upright. The ship continues to shake and rock, and there's a thick smell of smoke in the air.
There are sounds of crashing and yelling all around them. Lance stops in his tracks as he hears Hunk's familiar voice coming from the right. He sounds like he's in pain. Lance tugs urgently on Keith's hand, pulling him in Hunk's direction, when they hear Pidge's panicked yells coming from the left.
Lance stops, torn. He meets Keith's eyes.
"You go help Pidge," he says quickly. "I'll go help Hunk."
He can tell that Keith wants to argue, but as they hear Pidge scream, Keith tears himself away from Lance's grip.
"Stay safe," he says quickly. Then, before Lance can venture towards Hunk, Keith pulls him back in a desperate kiss.
Lance almost regrets his idea. Almost gets cold feet after Keith kisses him. But then Keith is gone and Lance knows he doesn't have time to second guess himself. He runs in the direction of Hunk's voice, heart pounding in his chest.
He doesn't have a weapon. He'll have to find one.
"Hunk!"
Lance rushes over to his friend, thankful to find the room empty aside from them. He lowers himself to his knees next to Hunk and frets over the open gash on Hunk's forehead.
"Hey, talk to me, are you okay? Can you count to ten?"
He tries not to look at all the blood on the floor.
Hunk's eyes cross in a perplexing expression.
"Uh, tasi, lua, talo... Four, five..." Hunk trails off. "Lance?" He whispers and reaches out, a hand cupping Lance's cheek. "You okay?"
Lance doesn't know if he should insist that Hunk finish counting in whatever language he chooses as long as it's coherent, or if it was safe to help him to his feet and take him to the medbay. But then Hunk reaches out and cups his cheek as if Lance was the one bleeding on the floor.
"I'm fine," Lance says with a strained smile. He covers Hunk's hand with his own. "Do you think you can stand?"
Hunk considers the question carefully and frowns. He attempts to get up and stumbles as he stands. Lance helps him, slowly and gently, stabilizing him on his feet.
"There you go," Lance encourages, unsure why Hunk's eyes widen in horror, "just take a moment to-"
"There you are."
A deep, familiar voice booms behind him and Lance inhales sharply. He turns around and visibly pales as his suspicion is proven correct.
Sendak.
