Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or Voltron: Legendary Defender

Chapter 6: Don't Hesitate - A Life For A Life In the Gothic Cathedral?

Despite the turbulent plane ride, the day was going quite well. Lance and Keith, in a stunning show of unity, had decided to take the mission outside of the Americas. With a plethora of missions under their belt spanning both North, Central and South, Lance had spent the last two months pushing for something that would let them travel overseas.

The city they'd agreed upon was in Italy. Mostly because Keith had never been there, but also because Lance had insisted that it was the best place to go at this time of year, and as much as they bickered, Keith couldn't find it in him to deny his meister of something he was so adamant about. Neither of them had ever been there, and Keith, who had lived in Death Valley all his life, had always wondered what the ocean would be like. Seeing Lance's longing looks out of the airplane window as they approached the country, he knew they'd made the right decision.

The city held about two active kishins. There were more, but the European branch had requested that Altea Academy send a meister and their weapon to take down these two in particular, who had seemed to travel overseas as well. Their luck had blessed them with an encounter a little over an hour after they'd landed, and with one kishin egg down before they'd even checked in to their hotel, Lance walked through the narrow streets with more than his usual confidence. Keith sauntered just behind him like a shadow, using his phone as a GPS to try and guide them accurately.

"So I was thinking that we could probably check in, swing by a couple monuments, take some pictures, eat lunch, and then hunt down that final kishin egg. Thoughts?"

"The kishin egg should really be our first priority; not sightseeing."

"Keith, live a little! It's a gorgeous city filled with gorgeous sights." He made an exaggerated wink at a pair of girls walking past them who simply giggled and kept walking. "See what I mean?"

Keith wished he could unsee it, honestly, but nobody could get everything they wanted. "What I see is you not focusing."

"Come on, Keith. Kishin eggs are more likely to show up at night; you know that. Besides we should enjoy the city."

"It's the middle of winter, Lance," said Keith. "We should defeat the kishin egg and stay inside before we both catch a cold."

"You worry too much. We'll be fine." His boots pushed at old snow while Keith trailed behind, too tired to put up much of a fight. He just wanted to stay in their hotel room until it was time to go. Was that too much to ask? He missed the blistering heat of Death Valley and the laughing sun that haunted the skies.

With his head ducked down at his phone, he didn't notice that they were passing by a couple of people on the walkway. He was jostled and bumped as they walked, but he didn't pay it any mind. At least, not until he was suddenly being pulled back by the hood of his jacket.

"Where are you going?" A tall, burly (and likely intoxicated) man was now growling at Keith's face, and when he glanced around him, it now looked like there were men just like that surrounding him. His English was a bit slurred, but Keith knew what it looked like when somebody didn't want you around.

"Out," he said curtly. "What are you doing?"

"You bumped into us and didn't apologize. Think you're too good for us?"

Keith bristled and was uncomfortably reminded of sixth grade bullies. "I think that you guys should lay off," he said tersely, his hands clenched into careful fists. He shouldn't cause a scene. They were foreigners trying to

"Keith?" called Lance, who Keith could see just over the top of the other man's shoulder just a little way in front. "It's not worth it."

He wasn't the only one who had taken note of Lance, however. One of the men nearby broke through the group and stalked over to him. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is this your boyfriend?" They pulled Lance into the circle, and Lance's baby blue luggage dropped into the snow. "Didn't realize he spoke for you."

Keith felt the exact moment that Lance had decided that this fight was quite worth it. His meister was still wearing his classic, genial smile, but his eyes were flat. He reached out and took Keith's hand. "Not cool, guys." He gave Keith's hand a quick squeeze, their souls coming together with practiced ease, and Keith couldn't help the wild grin he gave them as he transformed.

"You're gonna regret that."

A hilt to the stomach was enough to immobilize most of them, a shock of Lance's wavelength directly took care of the rest, but Keith was sure that their success would have felt better if he knew that Lance was satisfied with just this. Keith himself was used to reining in his anger, corralling it into something he could assign to an unfortunate punching bag during his daily workouts, but Lance was different. Even after the fight was over, Lance's soul simmered in its anger, waxing and waning through his thoughts.

He was upset that it had happened, annoyed that Keith had tried to fight them, annoyed more so that he had been antagonized at all by strangers the day they arrived in a city they were trying to help. Keith said nothing and let Lance stand amid the bodies until the fuming nearly ceased.

"They were idiots," growled Lance. He stretched out his arm and Keith took it as his cue to de-transform. Once he had, he held onto Lance's hand a little tighter.

"One monument after we check in," he said. "Then the kishin egg."

The blue of Lance's eyes flickered to Keith's with hopeful surprise, and the remaining weight that clung to Lance's fists dissipated. "Yeah."

"I mean, almost getting jumped by thugs can't define Italy."

And he was right, of course. The rest of the city was beautiful and bubbling with life. They visited more than one monument and a plethora of other buildings. They enjoyed the city, the food, and the stunning layer that winter had to offer. The pair exchanged light bickering on where to eat or the best location to take pictures, and Keith wasn't willing to engage in anything more than that.

Touristy attractions aside, Keith couldn't completely forget about their altercation that morning. Lance's anger had surprised him a little, but he knew better than to ask about it right away. He didn't have to wait long, as Lance took it upon himself to address it while they sat on the snow layered rooftops, keeping watch for kishin activity.

"Hey, uh, Keith?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for this morning."

"Totally could have taken them on my own," said Keith as lightly as possible. He knew what it was like to be targeted by people who thought they knew you and had chosen to dislike you on the basis of their own assumptions. Keith would have done more damage than simply knock them out, of course, but Lance would have never allowed it, even though, in that brief moment, he had craved it. Keith had seen into Lance's soul, after all. He knew that Lance had been met with nothing but love from his family and that, while school had thrown a wrench into things, he had been smart enough to surround himself with people that would love all of him. Keith had punched out offenders. Lance had gracefully ignored them.

Until now.

"Well, you're not alone, so you didn't have to."

Ah. Keith thought about how warm Lance's hands had been all day, the feeling of unity they had been feeling recently. "Yeah. I guess I should be thanking you then. For having my back."

Lance let out an indelicate snort. "That's a nice sound." Lance's legs hung off the edge of the rooftop, swinging as he spoke. "You thanking me should be a daily thing."

"Don't get used to it," said Keith, grinning alongside his meister.

"No, I-" he paused suddenly, and Keith knew what was happening. He slipped his hand into Lance's and transformed without being asked.

"Where is it?"

"Not far." Lance stood, patting the snow off his jeans before running along the rooftops. Keith thanked Death for Lance's accurate, albeit mostly untamed, soul perception. This would be over sooner or later.

They raced atop houses, Lance's balanced impeccably keeping them from taking a nose dive into the cobbled streets below. It was only after a few moments that Keith began to make out a moving shadow in front of them.

"It's coming. You ready?"

Keith focused on his blade, on strength, attack, power. "Let's go."

They surged forward, wavelengths lapping over one another like the waves of the ocean before morphing into something practiced and precise. Just over a year of steady practice revealed itself in their rippling resonance and the clean cuts of Keith's blade. They fought firm and clear; Lance's expression now fixed into a dead set scowl.

Keith used to laugh a little at Lance's taglines before hunting kishin eggs down. He'd call it childish if he didn't already know the pity condemnation had. Kishin eggs were flawed, fractured souls that had been tainted. They were twisted by the darkness of their own lives. The acknowledgement of their humanity paid homage to its existence, and when Keith's blade rendered through their enemies, just as always, he tried to think of it more like Lance did. He was saving kishin eggs from a fate worse than death. It was morbidly merciful, in a way. Keith didn't mind it at all, but he could feel Lance's hesitation as they fought. He ached empathy with every kishin egg while Keith did nothing but his duty. Maybe that was why his weapon form looked so red, like the blood of the enemies he was meant to kill.

"Keith," huffed Lance just as they finished the creature off. Its dark blood stained the rooftop and the bottom half of Lance's shirt, but his meister wasn't focused on that. He was eyeing something down by the street instead.

"What is it? A girl?"

"No," mumbled Lance, and Keith could feel his meister try to reach with their wavelength. "It's a soul, but it's different. Surrounded by other souls."

"Where?"

"In a church?" Lance pointed towards a huge, gothic cathedral. "There, I think."

"Lance, isn't that what souls do in church?"

"No, this is different." He started running, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with practiced ease.

"Different how?" Then, "Is this an excuse for more sightseeing?"

Keith didn't need to look to know that Lance was glaring at him. As they neared the church, the mirth shifted into something more sinister. Even Keith could feel the darkness around the church. The bricks were gray and faded; water stains and something black clung to them. It towered about the pair of them with dark, ornate windows and stone monsters fixed at each other.

"Creepy," said Lance with a shiver.

"Kinda cool, actually," said Keith.

"You like stuff like this?"

"I appreciate the skill it took to build it. It's basically a cathedral, but I don't necessarily like the evil that we can feel from here."

"Fair."

"Can you still feel anything?" Lance placed a hand on the doors and shut his eyes to focus. His eyes snapped open only a few seconds later, wavelength full of confusion and the telltale signs of fear. "What is it?"

"They're gone." Lance stumbled backwards.

"What, the souls?" Keith asked, trying not to let Lance's worry affect him. "That's not possible. You sensed them literally three minutes ago. How can they be gone so quickly?"

"I-I don't know." Keith met the blue of Lance's eyes. "What should we do?"

"I think we should go in."

"What? Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, isn't it our duty to seek and destroy things like this? If it's suspicious and could hurt civilians, aren't we obligated to investigate?"

"I-I guess."

It was in times like this that Keith deviated from Lance. To fight or to hesitate. To think or to act. They always seemed to be on the opposite side when those conflicts presented themselves. It was likely what made them such a great team in the first place. Despite their headstrong nature, they were able to balance each other out in times like these.

"If we don't go in there, then whatever devoured all those souls will only strike again, Lance, come on."

"Yeah, I know." Lance breathed in deeply to steady himself. "Let's go."

Lance kicked the doors open and held Keith tightly. The interior of the church was just as hauntingly beautiful as the exterior, but what marred its classic look were the bodies and blood decorating the floor. It pooled across the smooth tile like spilled ink, nearly black when compared to the pale white snow just outside of the church doors. Moonlight shone through all the windows, and the dim-lighting of half-burned candles illuminated the creature in the middle of the carnage. Or at least, Keith thought it was. Either a kishin egg or a mad man.

Turns out, both were right.

"Who are you?" called Lance. Nothing but an echo of his own voice answered him. "Those souls from earlier. What did you do to them?"

The man moved slowly, but its voice was low and clear. "Souls are for eating, you know?" it said, rearing its head and fixing them with a wild grin. "She told me that I could kill them. They were a waste of souls anyway."

Keith felt Lance's grip on his hilt shift. "Are you one of those rogue meisters that kill for fun? Hate to break it to you, buddy, but we only deal with corrupted souls. Pre-kishins. The Altea Academy doesn't tolerate this kind of stuff."

"Altea? Oh no, I'm not with them. She's told me all about them, and Lord Alfor doesn't seem like the kind of guy I'd want to follow. He's on the verge of Death, if you know what I mean." Even the man's laughter was sharp and wild.

Lance and Keith exchanged a look.

"Why are you here then?"

"Isn't it obvious? I just said that she told me I could eat the souls to become stronger. If I do that, I can help the only Lord I serve; Zarkon."

Keith's blood ran cold. Lord Zarkon was the kishin who'd once worked alongside Lord Alfor to purge the world of evil; the trusted friend and the ultimate downfall of the Lord's strength almost 100 years ago. Everybody knew of the horrors that Zarkon had released when he sided with the witches, and everybody had breathed a collective sigh of relief with the man's death.

But if this thing served Zarkon, perhaps the greatest kishin of all time had never died at all. Perhaps he had spent the last 100 years building up his strength again, gaining followers in order to bring about the world order that he had failed to make reality all those years ago. "Lance, we've got to go," hissed Keith.

"What do you mean? Earlier you said we could take this guy."

"I said that we should -" Even from within his weapon form, Keith could tell that this man was too dangerous for them. It was true that their resonance was the strongest it had ever been, but there was no way they would be able to handle someone like him. Keith's encounters with people who believed in Zarkon had all ended in bloodshed. He and his old meister had fought people and kishins like that before. But Lance? He didn't understand how deadly they could be. "We shouldn't. I-"

The man rose fully, hood falling back to reveal dark purple skin and a mess of hair. Keith swallowed hard at the thought. Galra, he thought thickly, definitely Galra. The man had shed his cloak entirely and they could see that his weapon arm fizzled with disproportionately large energy.

"Poor little kids," he laughed. "How does it feel knowing you won't survive the night? The doors only open inward, you know? You're well and trapped now, unless you're willing to turn your backs on me."

"We'll be fine," snapped Lance, all thin limbs and shaking bravado. "Who are you anyway?"

"I am Sendak, born to be the vessel that will help Zarkon revive. It is my purpose-" He grinned, "and I will not be bested by children.

"Well, that sounds like a super intense destiny. What exactly does your super huge and intimidating fist have to do with it? Your soul is set to wield; it's a meister's soul. But your hand is a weapon. Overachieving much?"

"Through the greatness of the Galran empire, I was gifted with this arm. I was a meister, but druid witchcraft made me into something better. I am both weapon and meister now."

Keith felt the beginnings of a more intense worry sink into their resonance, ricocheting between the two of them at rapid speed. "I'm sorry, both? Is that allowed? Were you always half-weapon and they helped you unlock that power or something?"

"Not at all. I let the witch tinker with my body before she got my arm into its new and improved weapon form." He flexed, and they watched the jaunty metal shift and hum with energy. It reminded Keith of Pidge's weapon form, only Sendak's looked very much like a hand of death. "Unlike Zarkon, who ate his own weapon, I became the weapon entirely." He paused. "The witch promised me every soul in this church, and I intend to fulfill that."

"Ok, ok, cool, cool. This is the part where we say our goodbyes, I guess?" The hand on Keith's hilt tightened while the other disappeared in Lance's jacket pocket. "Can I call my best friend? I want to leave him my Star Wars collection. It'll just take a sec-"

"No, I feel like killing you now." One moment, he was across the aisle, and then in the next moment, Sendak stalked forward, his fist raised to strike. Reflexively, Lance raised Keith up to defend, pushing back before leaning in to attack back. The weapons sizzled angrily upon contact, and Lance ducked under Sendak's arm to strike him in the back.

The dull thud of the blade hitting him was ridiculously alarming.

"What-" Lance jumped back and stared at Sendak's back which, besides now sporting a thin cut through his clothes, seemed completely unharmed. "How?"

Sendak pivoted sharply and shot forward, however this time, when his fist met Keith's weapon body, his metal fingers curled around the blade.

"What do you-" started Lance trying to pull Keith out of Sendak's grip.

"If you think a little sword is a match for my gauntlet, you have another thing coming." Sendak shouted something unintelligible and suddenly, it burned. Keith cried out in pain as Sendak's arm-weapon-thing shocked him. It felt like he had been the one actually cut instead, and Keith found his weapon form beginning to bleed into Lance's hands.

"Keith!" Lance kicked Sendak's chest hard in desperation. The force of it had Sendak falling towards the back of the cathedral and into an organ. Bringing Keith's form to eye-level, Lance scanned the blade for any other cuts or injuries. "Keith, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. He just surprised me, is all."

Lance shook his head. "No, not fine. You're right. We should leave." Sendak began getting up and Lance, determined to keep an eye on him, backed up carefully. The moment his back hit the doors, Lance grinned. "We are getting out of here Keith." He slammed back a few times, but the doors showed only resistance, and their panic returned just as quickly as it had left.

"Lance, what is it? Locked?" asked Keith

"No, it's just-"

"The doors only open inward," reminded Sendak with a feral look in his eyes. "Too bad we couldn't play longer. I'm sure your souls will taste delightful."

Sendak was careening through the church towards them and Lance was struggling to get out, frantically ramming the doors with his back, but it wasn't working. Nothing was. The doors only opened one way. Lance would have to turn his back on the enemy to escape, and that was too risky to attempt.

They were trapped, the Galran was approaching at high speeds, and all Keith could think about was Lance. How could he get Lance out of this? How could he prevent the death of another meister? If they couldn't run, then they'd have to-

"Lance, defend with me," he cried, but Lance wasn't raising his weapon form at all. Instead, he was staring at Sendak with fear worked into every muscle. It was like he was completely frozen. And with Sendak advancing on them, that wasn't a good thing.

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? Defend! Guard! What are you thinking?"

"But if I do that, you-" Lance looked at the flat of Keith's blade, staring at the reflection of his weapon. He was scared, Keith realized. Lance knew that if he moved up to guard, Keith would be severely hurt, possibly even killed. But what did that matter in the grand scheme of things? If Lance was alive, if Keith could actually save his meister this time, nothing else mattered.

"Lance, guard." Sendak would be on them any second. Lance had to guard if he wanted to survive this next hit.

"I can't," he choked out.

"Lance," Keith pleaded, fearing for Lance's life more than ever. What could he do? You couldn't force your meister to wield you. The meister was meant to lead, to wield, to fight. But Keith refused to sit by and do nothing. He couldn't. Not for someone he cared about. "Lance, please." Sendak's weapon was coming down now. Lance hadn't done anything he-

"I can't."

There was a split second where Keith contemplated transforming. He considered becoming a boy again and taking the hit for Lance. Death knew he'd do it in a heartbeat. He would die for his meister. Keith didn't care about many things, but Lance was one of them and he'd be damned to see him be hurt. He would transform back and save him. If he died in the process so be it, but at least Lance would have enough time to run.

Lance, who had a family and friends and homesickness in his heart.

Lance, who had taken Keith in and shown him more camaraderie and kindness than he deserved.

But the instant the thought crossed his mind, he was hit with a shock. It was not the same oppressive evil feel of Sendak's weaponized fist, but instead, it was Lance's wavelength jolting through him, stinging as it paralyzed him completely. He couldn't move an inch and watched, in horror, as Lance threw Keith to the side; away from the battle and from harm.

Away from where Lance was going to be completely crushed by Sendak's fist.

Keith's scream was muffled by the sound of crunching bones and Lance being blown through the doors. He transformed back with a gasp of pain and raced through the church. Sendak was stepping over the crumbling threshold, moving towards Lance's body with a cruel look on his face.

"Poor little meister. Didn't the Altea teach you better?"

Keith felt like he was on fire. The remnants of Lance's wavelength still burning his muscles was nothing compared to the intense anger he felt towards Sendak for hurting Lance. His meister was laying on the ground and Keith could see the blood pooling around him, a sickening red. It was like he was losing his first meister all over again, only this time it was Lance. He could practically feel Lance's pain through their resonance, no doubt a measly echo of the excruciating pain Lance was going through, and Keith turned it into pure fury as he moved.

Everything burned the same red as his meister as Keith dove into battle. His arm came down swinging. It barely seemed to phase Sendak, who blocked with his gauntlet and aimed a punch at Keith's stomach that left him flying back. Keith coughed blood onto the snow, but he staggered to his feet anyway. Everything was too hot. Though the snowflakes fell, it was as if they melted instantly. His skin, his blade, his tears; everything was too hot.

"Stay away from him," Keith roared, spitting leftover blood out of his mouth and trying to stand again. Sendak dragged his gaze up to Keith's face, daring and half-curious as he said, "Or what? What could you possibly do?"

Suddenly, a hand fell upon Keith's shoulder and sat firm, heavy, pulling him back onto the ground as an orange blur shot by him. He titled his head back to see Shay, dark skin peeking out from atop her scarf. Their eyes met and her cheeks dimpled in greeting.

"How-" he breathed, and Shay knelt carefully beside him, Hunk's weapon form tucked under her other arm.

"Lance has Hunk on speed dial. He figured out how to trace the call back to your exact location since Lance always keeps the location of his phone on. We were just a couple towns over, honestly." Her golden eyes seemed to darken. "Hunk and Lance planned to meet up tomorrow. To explore the city's festivals with you." Shay's gaze returned to Sendak, who was holding his own against what Keith had deduced to be Coran. Despite being an older teacher, Coran's blades were quick and left a multitude of wounds, but Sendak's strength was incomparable.

"Come," said Shay suddenly. "Let's get to Lance."

Lance's broken body was just where Sendak had left him. Keith ran over, stumbling through the snow and falling to his knees at his meister's side. Blood seemed to ooze out of him. His jacket and shirt below had been cut through. The force of Sendak's fist had split through both fabric and skin, painting Lance usual blue in a smattering red. Keith's hands shook over his meister, as if simply touching him would destroy him completely.

"No," he breathed, trembling fingers becoming fists, "not Lance. Not again."

"He's still alive, right Shay?" came Hunk's tinny voice from within his weapon form.

Shay reassured him, and Keith was sure that Hunk would have joined him on the ground if Shay hadn't had him angled towards Sendak, protecting them from any potential attack.

"Keith," began Shay again, "we're contacted a medical helicopter to bring us out, but until then, it will be best to stay by Lance's side and staunch the bleeding in whatever way we can't."

"Right." Keith cursed himself for not paying more attention when their professors lectured on first aid procedures. The basics, he understood, but he'd never registered how heavy the actual situation could weigh on him. He pulled off his own jacket and placed it on lance' body, desperately trying to lessen the bleeding. It didn't help that Keith's jacket was just as red, vibrant against the snow.

"Is he breathing?"

The question brought Keith back out of his head and he glanced over at Shay. "What?"

"He's breathing, yes?" asked Shay, her eyes still tracking Sendak as he fought Coran.

"Yeah." The jagged puffs of air from Lance's mouth was the only reassuring thing about the situation.

"Can you feel his soul? Reach out to him. Is his soul alright?"

Carefully, Keith took Lance's hand. His fingers curled, linking the pair of them together. Lance had always initiated resonance; demanded it, asked or it, summoned it in their time of need. To initiate resonance, Keith was at a mild loss. What did Lance do? How did his soul draw them in? Keith closed his eyes and focussed on how Professor Coran had once described their resonance: like two gears blending together, focusing on their partner's soul and binding it with his own…

Keith's soul bumped against Lance's. The hum of their resonance in the cathedral had dulled into a buzz, and he tried to kick it up into a fuller wavelength. He thought of the warmth of their resonance, the reassuring presence of another person, of coming together. He thought of Lance, exclusively, and was flooded by a rush of pain that had him gasping.

"Hey buddy."

When Keith opened his eyes, he was greeted with Lance's tired grin.

"You absolute fool," breathed Keith, the tears returning full force. "Why would you do that?"

"It hurts. Lecture later." Keith was still feeling an echo of Lance pain, but already he could tell that Lance was actively trying to mute the feelings. He tried to prop Lance up, cradling his wounded meister in his arms.

"Stay awake, buddy," said Keith gently. "Help is on the way."

"Can it be faster?"

"For you? As fast as possible."

Lance snorted, something that proved to be painful to accomplish by the way he whimpered. "You're being nice to me. I must be dying."

"Don't jinx it. You'll be fine."

"You didn't even run." Lance let his head rest against Keith's shoulder. "I'm going to die for nothing."

"I said not to say that." Keith leaned down to bump their foreheads together. "Idiot."

"If I don't-"

"Lance."

"I'm talking if not when." Lance winced. "But if, you know? You've got to tell my mom."

"Shay how much longer?" Keith asked as Lance's wavelength took a dim, depressing turn. There was pain and fear at the forefront, which Keith regretfully had anticipated. However, there was an undercurrent of sleepiness that struck Keith as worrisome.

"Is something happening?"

"He's gotta stay awake, right? Well, he doesn't seem that inclined."

"It'll be like a nap, right?" said Lance quietly.

"No. It won't. It'll feel like you're leaving me, just like everyone else in my life. You can't do that. You said we'd be together. You said I'd be a death scythe."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Lance huffed out a weak laugh, "but hey. Coran was right after all."

"Right now, Lance, really?"

Lance's hand pressed against Keith's holder, and Keith found himself squeezing back hard, a shard of panic like a knife to his heart.

"We do make a good team."

"You can't just say that because you think you're going to die," growled Keith. He dropped his head down again, bangs brushing at Lance's brow. So much for not crying anymore, thought Keith as his tears dribbled down his chin and slid over his meister's cheeks.

Lance hummed, as if content that he was going to die; leaving his only weapon without a wielder.

"What a jerk." The words made Lance smile, which only served to infuriate him further. "Bet you think this makes you cool."

"The coolest, actually."

"Figures." Keith's wavelength tried to emit as much optimism as possible, a complete opposite of what it usually was. Lance responded with reassurances, as weak as they were. "Hey, Shay?"

She heard the underlying question in it. "Should be here any second, Keith." She paused to use Hunk to send a volley of blasts towards Sendak when he and Coran grew too close.

"Maybe we should have called a local ambulance after all," mumbled Hunk.

"And have them enter this mess?" Shay shook her head, short and sure. Keith could hear the clipped sounds of a propeller approaching. "No, it'll be fine. They're anticipating serious injuries." Keith allowed himself to look up towards the noise and watched as the helicopter crested over the cathedral. "There they are now."

Thumbing the back of Lance's hand, Keith turned his gaze on his meister once more. "Time to go. Should I carry you?"

When Lance didn't say anything, didn't blink up or offer a painfully roguish quip about how Keith shouldn't assume that he 'carried' their team, Keith pressed more insistently. He rooted around in their wavelength but the helicopter's thrum and his own hurried heartbeat were nothing compared to the silent buzz of Keith's soul, floating alone between them.