Lance stares at his feet, watching the water receding, smoothing the sand left behind. "Oriande," he repeats, and a flicker of recognition shines in his eyes. "Wait, I thought Oriande was this magical place of alchemy or whatever, guarded by monstrosities!" He smiles as he recalls Allura emerging victorious, suddenly more proud of his friend than he had been back then.
"Monstrosities?" Oriande asks, lavender eyes indignant. "I beg your pardon, but Oriande is a place of beauty and grace."
"So," Lance says, furrowing his brows in concentration, "You are a place?"
"Oh no, but the place is named after me, if I must say," Oriande beams. "We built it to teach our children our ways…" She pauses, her face devoid of the childlike excitement it wore a second ago. "We have failed to understand how easily mortals can be corrupted, and how fast corruption can spread."
She stands up and starts walking along the beach. Lance follows after her.
"We have paid the price of our arrogance," she says. "We are paying still."
"Wait, are implying you are immortal? Are all Alteans immortal? How old is Coran!"
Oriande suddenly stops, wincing as if she's in pain. "But I am not… Altean," she clarifies. "It is such an old and long story, dear boy. We lost so much. Altea…" She pauses again. "Was our chance to atone. We failed, yet again. And it pains me to see that you were asked to carry such a burden, because of our mistakes."
"I saw what would happen," Lance says. "When I was looking into the quintessence well. Was that real?"
Oriande nods. "It was. It almost happened once before, another lifetime," she absentmindedly clasps her hands over her chest before she continues, "another tainted soul. It took sacrifice then as well." She reaches out and lifts Lance's chin up. "What you did… That was not an easy choice to make, brave one. Though our circumstances are not the same, I know that from experience."
Lance recalls the visions, all that he loves slowly dying, drained away. "It was not a choice at all," he responds.
"The boy calls for you," Oriande says.
"I know."
"Will you answer?"
Lance takes two steps into the sea, allowing himself to be soaked from the waist down.
"That's not a choice either," he replies.
Oriande smiles as Lance disappears. She grabs a handful of sand, squeezes it and opens her palm.
She looks at the tiny crystal she has created before she blows on it and it crumbles, scattering the glittering specks in the air.
Keith wakes up in his shack, the strange energy vibrating in his mind. He doesn't even think as he jumps off the couch, puts on his boots and grabs his jacket. Maybe today is the day he will find it.
He opens the door, expecting the familiar dry heat, but the cool air and smell of wildflowers greet him instead. It is pitch black outside, but Keith could swear he saw the sunlight when he woke up.
He steps out, and it is clear what's under his feet is not the sandy ground he is used to, it is too soft. For some reason, he is not alarmed. He takes a step forward.
It is lighter outside now, and Keith can see the tall trees around him. He looks back, but his shack is nowhere to be seen. It doesn't matter. All he needs to do is to follow the energy. He needs to find it.
But…
He had already found it, hadn't he? They had found it together, he remembers. He remembers long, tan fingers brushing against the cave wall and bringing it to life. He remembers the awe he felt as he first laid his eyes on the blue lion, and the pang of jealousy when she responded to…
Lance.
He needs to find Lance.
His steps are faster now, and he would break into a run if the scenery around him didn't shift constantly, disorienting him.
"Lance!" he calls, panic rising inside him. What if this is it? What if he is gone, and Keith can never see him again? What if he wakes up now and forgets, never to remember?
He holds on desperately to what he remembers. A pensive look, when Lance doesn't think anyone watches. A hand on his shoulder that grounds him. A soft, secret smile. The anger, when Keith was a little careless.
"What. Were you thinking," Lance seethes as he gets in Keith's face.
Keith doesn't back down. "I was thinking we had one chance, and I took it!" he shoots back.
"It was not worth the risk!"
"That is not your call!" he yells, leaving out the part that he got an earful from Shiro on it as well. "And it worked!"
"And what if it didn't?" Lance says through his teeth, his voice shaky. "What if we lost you?" he adds softly.
Keith is taken aback. "I…" he stammers, but can't finish the thought. What if they lost him? Would that matter? Would that matter to Lance? He takes a step back, and Lance takes a step forward.
"You are a part of this team," he says. "When will you see that we care? You are family! You are my…" He stops, confused. "You are…"
Keith reaches out and lays his hand on Lance's armored chest. He doesn't know what he is doing.
Lance looks down to his chest, then into his eyes.
Keith withdraws and storms off. Lance doesn't follow. He stands there, brows pinched, lost in his own thoughts.
Keith's heart is pounding against his rib cage. They care. They are family. Lance is angry for his sake, because he doesn't want to lose him.
Keith is scared, but he knows he would find the joy if he peels away the fear.
"Lance!" he shouts again. This time he is in the castle and his voice echoes off the empty halls. I will not forget. I will not forget. I will—
"Did anyone tell you how stubborn you are?"
Keith's shoulders sag with relief as he sees the boy standing at the door, arms crossed. His amused tone and the crooked smile don't match the look in his eyes.
"So I've been told," Keith replies. He is suddenly unsure if he's allowed to touch Lance, if this boy is his Lance. But then Lance walks to him and pulls him into a hug, erasing any shred of doubt.
Keith hugs him tighter, clinging to his hoodie. He feels like crying, shedding all the tears he was denied when they lost him. "Don't ask me to forget," he pleads, and feels Lance letting out a sigh.
"Okay," he replies as he removes his arms from around Keith. "I won't." He laces his fingers with the dark haired boy's and leads him into the room.
"Besides," he adds with a cocky smile, "you are so hopelessly in love with me, I don't think it's even possible." He chuckles as Keith glares at him through narrowed eyes. "Don't fret Mr. Grumpy Pants, I don't know how the hell it happened but the feeling is mutual."
"Hey!"
"I mean, you are beautiful… But no matter how you look at it," Lance continues as he gestures to Keith's hair, "it's still a mullet…"
Keith laughs and punches him in the shoulder. "You love my hair! You wrote a drunken poem about it!"
"Don't remember, didn't happen."
"Jerk," he says as he pushes Lance on to the bed, climbs on top of him and kisses him.
Lance runs his hand through Keith's hair and hums against his mouth.
This, Keith thinks, as happiness spreads inside him. I can't allow this to vanish.
They are lying in a field of forget-me-nots. The ground is almost as blue as the cloudless sky and Keith never wants to wake up from this dream.
"Is this your doing?" Lance asks as he plucks one flower. Neither the flower nor the sky can compete with the blue of his eyes, Keith thinks.
"I miss you," he replies.
"And how do you manage to do that, when I don't even exist?"
Keith sits up and pulls Lance to him, to rest his head in his lap. He plays with the messy brown hair as Lance practically purrs.
"I don't know," Keith says. "I just know something is not right. I don't know you when I wake up. Nobody does." His hands stop their movement through Lance's hair and his voice comes out bitter as he says, "Just like you wanted."
"It'll pass," Lance says. "This reality will take root, and you won't feel that way anymore. You'll be alright." He sighs. He doesn't know that for sure, not at all, but he knows Keith needs to move on. "That's what I wanted."
"We are not alright! We are a mess, even the lions. We don't make sense anymore, every one of us feels that if nothing else. Sometimes…" he stops, lets out a breath and continues, his voice thick with emotion. "Sometimes I think it would have been better if we were given a chance to grieve. Then I could at least keep my memories."
Lance turns to his side, brushing his fingers along the blue petals. "It wasn't an option."
"Then I will stay here."
Lance sits up, his eyes wide. "How can you even say that? They need you!"
He can't say how much he wishes Keith could stay, or he could go back and be with them again. How much he wishes to see his family, and how much it hurts they don't even know his name now. And he can't bear to say that he feels all that because Keith keeps calling him back, keeps finding him. He can't tell him how painful it is, when he doesn't even have the concept of time anymore, and when he hurts, he hurts always.
He can't tell him that he still allows Keith to find him every time, despite the pain.
Keith scoffs. "They need me? Do you even know who I am in a world where you don't exist? Because I don't!"
"Oh don't be so dramatic, mullet-man. I doubt whatever impact I had on you amounted to a character defining moment. You'll still be the hotheaded, unfairly gifted, fierce and loyal emo you have always been. I mean I like how you overestimate me, but don't go underestimating yourself."
Keith looks away. "I am not the same," is all that he says. He feels heavy now, and his vision starts getting blurry. He knows what's happening, and he tries to hold on but it is futile.
Lance strokes his cheek and plants a kiss on top of his head. Keith thinks he hears Lance reciting a poem as he laughs and fades away.
He opens his eyes and realizes he is on the sofa in the castle lounge. Next thing he notices is Shiro standing over him, his expression tight and his eyes fixed on something.
"Keith," he says, voice low and cautious.
Keith follows Shiro's gaze to the crystal he has in his hand, emitting a glow bright enough to wash the entire room blue.
"What the quiznak is that?"