Lance’s Funeral

by RachelleFaucet

A Klance au in which Keith discovers that him and only him can see Lance's ghost.

7. Vol 7

In the end

Everyone ends up alone

Losing her

The only one who's ever known

Who I am, who I'm not, and who I wanna be

No way to know

How long she will be next to me

~Fray / You Found Me

ooo

Keith had lost the letter.

He realized this a while back, after his and Lance's little adventure to 452 Sanders Way, where they had their lovely 'meet n' greet' with Lance's satanic brother. On the car ride home, unbeknownst to the younger, non-satanic McClain, Keith reached to feel a familiar weight in his pocket only to discover it was no longer there.

Normally, Keith wouldn't dwindle over an event such as losing a scrap of paper, but this nearly drove him to the brink. First Lance was put in danger, and then Keith lost his most precious possession. The only thing that kept him grounded during this chapter of love and chaos. Or, one ghost rather. But now, what was he to do? The problems wouldn't stop piling, building a tower to the sky, the heavens, and beyond.

Keith answered his phone.

"Keith! You picked up!" Shiro exclaimed in another place, existing, though not visible. "What's happening, man? Pidge told me you've missed a lot of days of school. Is something wrong?"

"Shiro!" Keith yelled, though it was unnecessary. "Come over. And bring everyone else, including Coran. There is... there is something we need to tell you guys. For real this time."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down." Shiro's voice was low and robotic through the speaker. Keith and Lance leaned in - shoulders touching - to listen. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

"Please, Shiro." Keith begged. "I need to see you badly. This is urgent, like, real urgent. I don't know who else to turn to. I'm... I'm kinda freaking out here, Shiro. Please. I need your help."

"I'm on my way." Shiro said at once. "I'll inform everyone else. Hang in there, Keith. You don't need to explain yourself now."

And, with that, Shiro hung up. He was always the first to take action and help a friend in need. Keith was impressed by it. Envious even. That's why they were such good friends. No, brothers.

Keith shoved his phone into his pocket then brought his shaky palm to his temple. His head was spinning. Everything around him was a spiral of madness that he was desperately trying not to be consumed by. He ran his fingers through his hair, a veil between his stare and the pavement road beneath them. The night was cold and bleak.

"Ok..." Keith finally spoke up, his breath a white, airy cloud against the black landscape. "What is going on?"

"No, no. I remember Shiro." Lance insisted, though he held no tone of confidence. "Yeah, Shiro. I know him. Sheerios, Shiro, Sheerios. I don't know what came over me."

"How about he rest of our friends? Can you remember them?"

"Yeah, yeah. There's Pidge, Hunk, Allura... and... is that it?"

"No, no, no. I said his name seconds ago! Our professor. Think hard, Lance."

"Our professor? I go to college?" Lance brought his knees to his chest, his hands wrapped around the back of his skull. "Wait, of course I do. Well, yeah, I used to. Pidge was in our class. With, what's her name? Mrs. Glenn! And Coran! Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man."

Keith let out a sigh of relief. "Good. So you're not going completely Alzheimer on me. Your friends are coming over. They should jog your memory... hopefully."

"Wait. So, are we seriously..." Lance's voice trailed. "Are we seriously doing this?"

Keith took a deep, shaky breath. "Yes. You ready?"

"Yes." Lance said with a nod. His posture shifted. The once discombobulated, mess of a man gained an air of confidence. The sort that sings the tune without the words. "Let's do this shit."

ooo

Pidge and Hunk were the first to arrive. They came speeding down the road, the headlights of their white Chevrolet illuminating the path ahead of them. Parking soundlessly on the road in front of Keith's home, Pidge exited the passenger side door and Hunk the driver side. When Pidge spotted her friend on the roof, she took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. "Keith? Why are you on the roof?"

Keith glanced down. He jumped from the side of the building, hung from the ledge, and let go, landing effortlessly on the grass. Lance followed. He was much less graceful.

Pidge put her glasses back on as Hunk joined her on the lawn. "We came as soon as we heard." Hunk said, looking unceremonious in his yellow robe and cat slippers.

"Yeah, but you didn't answer my question." Pidge pushed. "Why in the name of all things technological were you on the roof?" She sounded sarcastic, but Keith knew she was genuinely concerned.

"It's nothing. Where are the others?"

"On their way." Hunk said, checking the time on his phone. It was late. "Shiro went to pick up Allura and Coran. Maybe... fifteen minutes?"

"Can't wait that long. We need to do this now." In a sudden outburst, Keith clutched both Pidge's and Hunk's wrists, causing their faces to transform from concern to bewilderment.

Lance, who loomed just behind Keith, cupped his fingers over Keith's shoulder and whispered, "Don't worry. Everything's fine. You're fine. I'm fine."

The tension in Keith's stance loosened. He closed his eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. Lance's voice was music. A smooth melody he could play on repeat and never grow tired of. One that made his hairs stand on end.

"I'm sorry." Keith let go of his friends' wrists. "Please, come in."

Hunk and Pidge shared a nervous glance. They did that sometimes. All the time, really. "Alright." They said in unison, following Keith inside.

They passed through the mess filled hall and the mess filled kitchen, only to eventually arrive in the mess filled living room. This time, the visit being on a whim, Keith prepared no seats for his guests. Not even a stack of unread books or a tower of non-discarded boxes. But, this time, he didn't need any. "Alright. I'm just going to come out and say it. So, yeah. Don't freak out and yada, yada. I see ghosts."

Hunk and Pidge fell silent, their expressions unreadable. Keith took the opportunity to close his eyes and continue. "Yes, I know I said this last time, and I also kinda, sorta said I was lying, but I'm serious. I see ghosts. Well, two actually. Or more. I can't really tell if they are or are not unless they tell me, or something. Maybe I've been seeing them all my life and never even realized. I'm not sure. The point is, I've met two ghosts - one of which I didn't know was a ghost - and who was staying with this psycho psychic that killed a squirrel with rabies, causing the wall bleed, which is kinda weird, because the other people in the house didn't even notice. But that's not important, because I'm rambling, and the point is I can see Lance."

Keith opened his eyes. As expected, his friends' jaws were agape and eyes dumbfounded. Not because they believed the claims Keith was issuing, rather, they were confirmed on what they feared above all else. Keith was going insane. "Keith, I -" Pidge's words came in unsure fragments, her mind too overwhelmed to form a conclusive response. "Wow."

"I have proof." Keith cut in. "And, yes, I know I said that last time too, but I'm serious this time." He picked up a sheet of music from the floor and flipped it to the blank backside. Grabbing a red pen from his pocket, Keith held it forward for a tense - though brief - second, then pivoted to his right. Addressing Lance, he said, "Take it."

Lance eyed the paper. His bottom lip trembled and fingers shook uncontrollably. He gulped before meeting Keith's eyes.

"Don't worry." Keith whispered. "Everything's fine."

Lance's body noticeably relaxed.

He took the pen, his cold skin brushing against Keith's warm fingers. When Keith let go, Hunk and Pidge let out horrid gasps. The pen. It was floating mid air.

Lance took the paper and squatted, laying it flat on the hardwood floor. Holding the sheet down with one hand, Lance scribbled something with his other. Not knowing where to begin, he wrote the first thing that came to his mind. Bending over his body to look, Keith glanced down at what the ghost boy's crazy mind conjured. Keith smiled.

'It's blue. Da ba dee, da ba dead.'

Damn Lance, that asshole.

"Lance!" Pidge gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. The horrid handwriting was undeniable; the lame humor irrefutable. This was Lance, no doubt about it. "I - it's really you?"

'I missed you, gremlin.'

Pidge burst into tears. "Lance!" She wailed, darting in the direction of where Lance held the pen. When she reached him, she slipped through his body. Keith saw her shiver, the hairs on her arms standing on end.

"I can't touch living things." Lance explained.

"He can't touch living things." Keith translated. "Well, except for me."

Lance smirked. "Yeah, he touches me real good."

Keith's face grew bright red. "Honestly, Lance. Is it seriously the time to be saying things like that?"

Before he had time to answer, Pidge collapsed into Keith's arms, her talon-like fingers clutched tightly to Keith's bunched-up shirt fabric. He had forgotten just how short Pidge really was. How frail she could appear. Most times, she seemed bigger. "I'm so, so, so sorry!" Pidge cried, tears gushing downward and a trail of snot hanging from her nose. With a sniff, she continued, "I should have never doubted you. I - I thought you were going crazy! I thought I was going crazy! Am I? Is this real? Oh, please tell me this is real."

"It's real!" Keith assured, too startled to move. He let Pidge bawl her eyes out, his clothes taking damage from all the bodily fluids smeared against the fabric. Her grip was as sturdy as iron.

A moment later, Keith was startled when he felt another presence sneak up from behind, and pull them both in for a hug in their big, strong arms. It was Hunk. His face was in even worse shape then Pidge's. "I love you all! Keith, Pidge, and Lance! You're my bestest friends in the world!" He blurted out, lifting them both in the air. Keith had forgotten just how big he really was.

Keith looked at Lance. He was smiling. Keith smiled back. "I'm done with the tears." Lance said, standing. He walked over to his friends, a fond, distant gleam in his eyes. He spread his arms and joined the group hug. Though he could only touch Keith, Keith knew his friends could feel his presence beside them. They didn't need to say a word.

When they let go, Keith reached for Lance's hand but swiftly pulled away. Seeing this, Lance took his hand instead, locking his fingers in the other's. Lance's frigid skin sent a shock across the length of Keith's arm. "I'm done with hiding." He added.

Keith felt his heart contract in his chest. At that moment, he had a realization. Keith was done with all this bullshit hiding too. "Guys, We have something else to tell you."

Hunk and Pidge, wiping their messy faces with the back of their hand, turned their attention to Keith, then to his hand. Not being able to see Lance, it looked as though he had his hand curled against noting. But of course they knew better.

"Yeah?" Pidge said, making an O shape with her mouth to match her owl-like eyes.

"We're... Well, we're, um..." Keith's gaze darted to his shoes. "Me and Lance are, like..."

"Dating." Lance whispered, as though Keith had forgotten how to say the word entirely.

"Dating."

Keith had no idea what his friends would think or what they would say, but surely nothing like, "Wait... You two waited till literal death to finally hook up?"

It was Pidge who said this, and Hunk nodded to display agreement. "W-what?" Keith felt his cheeks begin to boil, the hand that was clasped with Lance's growing clammy. Lance snorted beside him. One of his renowned, hideous laughs.

"What? You seriously thought we wouldn't notice?" Hunk asked, his tan arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Yeah, y'all two are way too oblivious." Pidge adjusted her glasses on the brim of her nose.

Keith and Lance turned to each other, held eye contact for a moment, than burst out laughing. What was so funny? Keith hadn't a clue. All he knew was how great this feeling was. For once, ever since Lance's funeral, everything was beginning to feel alright. Normal. Happy. More than happy. This was wonderful. Lance was Keith's boyfriend.

Lance was Keith's boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

"Ok, but, who's going to tell the others?" Pidge asked once they all calmed down enough for her to be heard.

"Us. All four of us. Together, just like before. Just like the times we lost. Just like the new experiences to come." Keith said, extending his hand for Pidge. She grinned and took it. Hunk grabbed her other hand, completing the chain. Connection on a both physical and mental standing. Keith could feel all their energies seeping in through his veins. Connection. It was an odd sensation. New, yet familiar. 'The sight', Nico had said. Was that the only power Keith had awoken, or was there more?

A knock came from the door.

ooo

Walking through a crowd

Then you look around

See there's no one left

We live and then we die as one

Yeah, we all live under the same sun

~Nothing But Thieves / Amsterdam

ooo

A Chevrolet and Honda rode side by side.

Hunk, in the driver's seat of his parent's white Chevrolet, planted his foot hard on the gas. Keith, in his own dented, black Honda, saw this and sped up accordingly. Pidge poked her head out from the white car's window. Holding her large, brimmed sun hat with one hand, she stuck her tongue out and screamed, "Bleh!"

Lance, who sat in the passenger seat of the black car, was rightfully offended. "Keith, are you going to let her do that?"

Keith, his fingers drumming on the leather of the wheel, turned his attention to the rearview mirror. "No, I'm not going to do anything about what Pidge did. I'm driving."

Shiro and Allura, seated in the backseat, caught on to what Keith was laying down. In unison, the duo's heads emerged from their respective windows, gifting the other car with a crude hand gesture and a simultaneous, "BLEHHH!"

Team Honda laughed while team Chevrolet scrunched their noses, betrayed and disgraced. Lance adjusted the volume of the car's radio, blasting the music loud enough to make ears bleed. He then switched the channel until he found something that suited his fancy. "Hell yes!" He gleaned as the driver groaned.

The other car turned to the same station and blared the music louder, louder, louder, much to Keith's dismay. In unison, Lance, Allura, Shiro, Hunk, Pidge, and Coran sang at the top of their lungs, "Up in the club, we just broke up, I'm doing my own little thing. Decided to dip and now you wanna trip, 'cause another brother noticed me."

"Keith, you better sing along." Lance nudged his shoulder partner, his lips puckered and eyebrows raised at an impossible arc.

"I'm driving."

"It's called double tasking. Come on, I know you know the lyrics. Everyone knows the lyrics."

"You're not the boss of me." Keith spat just as the infamous chorus kicked in.

"'Cause if you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it. If you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it. Don't be mad once you see that he want it. 'Cause if you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it. Oh, oh, oh, OH, OH, OH!"

Keith kept one hand on the wheel and cupped the other over his ear. "Jesus fuck, guys! You're killing off my last remaining brain cells!"

Lance turned the volume up to its maximum. "IF YOU LIKED IT THEN YOU SHOULDA PUT A RING ON IT!"

"Aaaaaaaand, there goes his sanity." Allura giggled, her slender nails running through her white, wavy hair.

As the song blared on, both cars raced side by side under the cloudless, Texas sky. With the intent on disembarking at the beach, the trunks were stuffed with essential towels, umbrellas, surfboards, and more. Being the first Saturday after Lance came out of the ghost closet, team McClain and friends took the opportunity to chill. Or play, or surf, or whatever the hell they wanted. Why? Because, dammit, they were ecstatic.

When they pulled onto the sand, Lance was the first to get out. Shiro and Allura startled, not used to objects being handled by unseen entities. When the car was switched off, the music vanished - thankfully - and the others hopped out.

Hunk and Pidge dashed toward the water in an instant, floaters and surfboards in tow, leaving Coran to haul the other junk from their car. With help from Shiro, he pulled a bag full of towels and chairs from the trunk. Keith watched, taking the opportunity to feel the cool sand sift between his toes.

"Hey, Shiro, can you help me out please?" Allura asked. Her long eyelashes fluttered as she held up a bottle of sunscreen.

"Of course, princess." Shiro said, taking the tube and squirting a glob of sunscreen in the palm of his hand. Allura flopped belly-down on her towel, her head propped on her arms, brown back protected by the shade of the umbrella.

Shiro leaned over her and lathered the sunscreen from her shoulder blades down her spine. Lance saw this, grinned, and nudged Keith. "Hey, Keith. Need a hand with anything? Wouldn't want your baby bottom skin to get all sun wrinkled, now would we?"

"I'm fine." Keith's cheeks reddened. "And don't compare my skin to a baby's bottom, idiot."

"Pushy, pushy, pushy." Lance stuck out his tongue. "You're no fun."

Once Coran had everything securely out of the cars, he coated his nose with a line of white sunblock and nearly tripped over his sandals as he rushed to join Hunk and Pidge. The three of them laughed, splashed water at one another, and tackled each other under the surface. Keith couldn't help but smile.

Shiro and Allura, skin thoroughly coated, motioned to Keith. "We're planning on going surfing. You joining us?" Shiro asked.

"I'm fine." Keith politely vetoed. "I don't know how to... um... swim, so."

"That's ok. How about you, Lance... if you're still here?" Shiro turned to Keith's right. Lance was on his left.

"I'm good."

"He's good." Keith translated.

"Alrighty then. Feel free to join us at any time if you've changed your minds." With their hands locked, Shiro and Allura sauntered off with one last blinding smile. Those two were supermodels, Keith swore.

Lance and Keith took shelter under the shade of the umbrella. The sand was hot under Keith's hairy legs. The beach was much different now than at night. He thought back to his and Lance's first kiss and the chilly breeze that had fogged their breaths. The memory was surreal.

"You don't have to do everything I do, you know." Keith sat down and leaned his weight against his palms.

"Eh, I like hanging with you, though."

"Yeah, but the ocean is your life. I don't want you to be held back just because of me."

"Whoa, chill dude. I would pick you over water any day. It's just a bunch of hydrogen, oxygen, and crud."

Keith's eyebrows furrowed. He sat up and turned to face his ghost boy. "You're acting weird today."

"Am I?" Lance asked, folding his legs. "'Cause, it sounds to me like you're the one who's acting weird."

"You just called the ocean a bunch of water."

"Yeah, so?"

"So? You love the ocean."

Lance exhaled and shook his head. "Why are you over analyzing things all of a sudden? Can we talk about something different?"

A scream sounded followed by a splash. Hunk had lifted Pidge onto his shoulders and thrown her far into the sea. Spitting out a mouthful of water, Pidge retaliated by snatching Hunk's ankles and yanking them off balance. The friendly giant fell backwards with a screech, creating a massive tidal wave. The others, pushed back by the force of his enormous mass, howled in amusement. Things were going good. Almost too good. So, why did Keith have an underlying sense of dread?

"Ok." Keith shifted his attention back to Lance and his paper-thin skin.

Unlike the others, he wore his usual attire. Army green jacket and blue jeans. He seemed out of place in their setting. A polar bear in a jungle. Lance's hand, which blended into the brown sand beneath it, fiddled with a stray twig. Like always, he needed to be in constant movement.

"Tell me a story." Keith finished, the heat from the sun scorching his dark hair. He would never understand the appeal of the outdoors.

"Oh..." Lance's voice was low. "Like what?"

"Something about your family. The beach, the aquarium, whatever."

"Well... let's see." Lance's fingers brushed his clean-cut chin. "I - I don't really... I'm having trouble thinking of one. Help me out."

"When was the first time you came here?" Keith didn't realize his shoulders had tensed until Lance looked at them. He inhaled and exhaled, his shoulders loosening only slightly.

"I -" Lance's eyes darted from Keith, to the sand, to his shoes, and back to Keith. "I can't remember."

"Ok, ok. Maybe it was just too long ago. Tell me about the aquarium instead."

"Aquarium?"

"Yeah, aquarium." Keith's fists balled, taking a clump of sand between its fingers.

"Which aquarium?"

"The aquarium!" Keith snapped, then, just as quickly, recoiled. "Kaltenecker. Tell me about her."

Lance blinked, his eyes a foggy, blue landscape. "Kaltenecker?"

No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. Everything was going so well, why was this happening now?

Keith's hands flew to Lance's shoulders. He startled, eyes wide. "How many siblings do you have?"

"Uh..."

"Lance, please." Keith felt his throat tighten. It was painful to speak, but he had to. "Your mother. Think about your mother."

"Ma..." Lance breathed. "Round face, crooked teeth, a smile that could clear away the fog. Her cooking... her... uh..."

"Yes! Her empanadas. You love her empanadas. Lance, please remember."

"I - I - I don't know what that is. No, no, no. Keith, what's going on with me?" Lance leaned forward, gripping Keith's forearms. His thin eyebrows scrunched together, his eyes on the verge of tears.

Keith lowered his voice, sparing only the briefest of glances to their friends. They were further out into the sea now, paddling belly-down on their surfboards. "We need to get to your house. Now."

"Y - you just want to leave them?"

A breeze blew. It filled Keith's ear and swept his bangs. It did nothing to Lance at all. Dead. The word crept up his spine and whispered truths. Dead. Lance was dead. Keith was dead. Everything, everyone was dead.

His memories were dead.

Their dreams, dead.

Keith's body acted on its own accord. It stood, dragging Lance with it. "Wait! How about them?" Lance used his one free hand to point back at his friends.

"They don't need to know. We'll get everything right again. They don't need to worry. They've done enough of that as is."

"So have you." Lance whispered, his form fading. For a long time in a while, Keith could see completely through his head. The horizon cut across his cheek.

"If no one's left to worry, than things will never get done." Keith took Lance's other hand, his skin cold. Ghoulish. "Let's go. We're going to see your mom."

"Ma..." Lance nodded, tightening his grip.

Sparing one last glance to the others, the pair darted across the sand and leapt into their car.

ooo

Who will fix me now, dive in when I'm down?

Save me from myself, don't let me drown

Who will make me fine, drag me out alive?

Save me from myself, don't let me drown

~Bring Me The Horizon / Drown

ooo

Keith's phone was in a state of constant buzzing.

About halfway through the trip from the beach to the McClain's residence, it begun. First, it was but mere texts from one or more people. Then, as time continued and no answer was gifted, it swelled into a swarm of calls, texts, voicemails, cetera. "Shut them up." Keith demanded, twisting the knob of his car radio. The music blasted above the traffic and shook his jaw.

Lance took the phone, turned it over, seemed to forget how it functioned, then switched it off with a pull of his finger. "We should tell them. They're worried."

"No time. I don't want them tangled in this mess. It's my responsibility."

"No, it's no one's responsibility." Lance leaned forward in his chair. "It's our business as well as theirs."

"No time." Keith repeated, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

The street before Keith narrowed, vision fading in and out of nothingness. The letter. It spoke in his mind. Line for line, every point, curve, space in the lettering. How he wished he could read it. To feel its crinkled surface against his fingers. But it was gone.

Lance isn't, Keith reminded himself, not yet.

Keith took Lance's hand; they hovered above the gearshift, fingers entwined, heart line clasped against leather. "Hang in there." Keith whispered, not knowing he was doing so.

"Together."

Miles passed in silence. Keith knew his way well. Growing up in a town, being raised by himself, and driving illegally at a young age did that to him. It was only a matter of time until his car pulled up to the infamous house, on the infamous street, and (you've already heard the whole spiel).

452 Sanders Way.

Keith and Lance's hands finally parted - much to both of their dismays - as the driver pulled into a spot lining the street. After a scrappy job of parking, the two got out and gently shut the door behind them. They met glances over the roof of the Honda, then snuck a look at the front entrance. It was a fairly new memory for Keith, but he wondered if Lance recalled the sight of it at all. His blank expression and slumped shoulders hinted at either.

Keith walked across the lawn, slow, stopped at the entrance, breath in, and raised his fist. The material of his glove bunched in his palm as he hesitated inches from the wood door. Breath out. Keith knocked.

A woman appeared, arched nose, raisin skin. Keith's jaw fell open, his throat concocting the first syllable of the word he wanted to speak, but couldn't. "Who are you?" The woman snapped, chin held high, eyes directed downward, meeting the quiver of Keith's pupils.

"Keith." He managed, fingers grasping for the end of his jacket. "I - um... is, uh -"

"Well, spit it out, boy." She said, not out of annoyance, but because the bluntness was a second nature.

"Is Mrs. McClain here?"

It took two tries for the woman to get the words out. "No. You need to go."

"But -" Keith stuttered. He turned his attention to Lance, who looked just as, if not more, stunned. "Why?"

"Look, kid, it's nothing personal." The woman took her hand from the doorknob and used it to flatten the frayed ends of her gray-streaked hair. "Keith, right? Mr. McClain is going to be home any minute, and I don't think you want to be here when he does. Trust me, you need to leave."

Keith's mouth opened and closed like a fish in the water. He needed to get in. It was for Lance, but how could he explain?

Keith moved to speak, but only got the first word, "Is -" when another, familiar voice cut in.

"It's ok, Chloe." Nico, his form hidden in the shadow of the woman's, whispered. His voice was like a spider in Keith's ear. "It'll be quick."

Chloe startled and leapt forward, her skeletal body surprisingly agile. Keith jumped too, but caught himself before he doubled back onto the brown grass. "Te voy a matar, Nico! Stop sneaking up on me, boy!"

"He's a friend. He's coming in to retrieve something he left." Nico lied, all the while keeping his hollow eyes trained on Keith.

"But, Nico." Chloe started, then switched to Spanish. "'You know what he did last time.'"

"It's fine. It'll be quick." He responded in English. As his pale skin shimmered in the blackness of his home, Keith wondered if Nico had ever been outside.

Chloe hesitated, shifting her balance from foot to foot. The wrinkles around her mouth deepened as she spoke, "Fine. But no more than five minutes."

Keith nodded, unsure of whether to bow like a dumb ass or reply with a squeaky, thank you. He settled with, "Of course, ma'am."

Chloe scoffed, the narrow lines of her upturned nostrils blaring. She made way for Keith, then closed the door behind him. Lance followed, successfully getting through without being sensed.

"He'll be here soon." Nico whispered in Keith's ear, sounding unintentionally terrifying. His fingers brushed Keith's shoulder, making his hair stand on end. "We don't have much time."

They took a few steps forward into the living room. When Chloe disappeared down a hall and was out of earshot, Keith stopped. "I didn't come to see you, Nico."

Jordan - who Keith then realized was hidden behind Nico's legs - poked his head out. "Hello, sir."

"I need to see Mrs. McClain." Keith stuttered, ignoring the freckle faced ghost. "S - something's happening."

"Yes, yes, I know all about it. Come, come. Hell, you're slower than a sloth on the dance floor." Nico snatched Keith's wrist - rather forcefully - and tugged him along.

Keith's arm was nearly yanked from its socket as he was pulled across the carpeted floor, down the hall, passed the aggravatingly placed couch, and to his and Lance's room. Nico was wearing a striped, long sleeved shirt, but Keith spotted something snake from underneath the sleeve. It was long, nearly reaching to his palm. A scar - a new looking one at that - reddened and bunched Nico's otherwise clear skin. He stared at it, not knowing how to feel.

When the three of them - four of them - got to the bedroom, Nico slammed the door shut. Keith took the opportunity to yank his wrist from Nico's grasp and put a few extra feet between them. "You know why I'm here? Really?" He asked, unconvinced.

"You came sooner than I anticipated. Energy, energy, that's what you need. But you weren't nice to me, so why should I be nice to you? Hmm? You think that's fair?"

"I don't need energy, or whatever." Keith answered, ignoring his question. "I don't need you to kill another small animal, or make the walls bleed, or summon a god damn demon. Something's happening to Lance. He... he's-"

Keith paused, his attention drawn to Nico's activity. Nico bent below his bunk and pulled out a sharp blade. Unlike the other one, it was no butter knife. It looked like something a butcher would use on his particularly firm meat. Keith winced as a glint of light flickered at its point.

"What's happening to Lance?" Nico grunted, snapping Keith's gaze from the blade back to him.

"He's losing his memories."

Keith's heart sunk as he watched the knife slip from Nico's hand and begin its descent downward. Nico jumped back, his foot centimeters from where the blade hit the ground with a heart-shattering clang. Lance's brother, eyes big as frisbees, stumbled to the floor. Grasping tight to the knife's handle, he asked, voice small and hoarse, "How many?"

"I'm not sure. A lot."

"And so soon." Nico muttered to himself. He brought his thumb to his mouth and bit it, eyes looking a something yet nothing.

Jordan, who Keith had forgotten was there, looked at the crouched Nico from behind. His eyebrows were scrunched together in worry, yet he had no power to set things right. Keith doubted if anyone did.

"He's weaker than I thought." Nico stood, posture atrocious.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Keith asked, his shoulders tensed.

"His soul." Nico explained, running his finger up and down the blade's surface. "It's struggling between life and death. This life and the next."

"Wait a second! Is he talking about reincarnation right now?" Lance dragged his hand along his scalp. "I don't understand this at all. What kinda religion does he practice anyway?"

Nico cupped the blade in his hand, its edge sinking into his palm. Red blood oozed from the injury. Nico didn't seem to notice, or perhaps he didn't care. "Death and life. Life and death. One cannot live without the other."

Keith stepped forward, took Nico's hands, and pulled the knife away. "That's enough." He said, ignoring Nico's grimace. "How do we stop it?"

"HA!" Nico laughed humorously. "Stop it? Stop it you say? There is no way to stop it! Don't you see, mortal? Lance is dead! Done for! There is no 'stopping it'. It's just a matter of time before he goes away completely."

Nico lunged forward, but Keith swung his body around and out of reach. He lifted his knife-holding hand in the air, far from Lance's brother. He didn't know what he was planning on doing with the knife, but whatever it was, Keith was going to make sure it didn't happen.

"Give it back." Nico snarled, his clenched fists white at his sides.

"He's your brother! How could you give up on him?"

"Keith, please." Lance cut in, eyes darting between him and his brother.

"I didn't give up on him!" Nico shrieked, causing Keith to stumble backwards. "I've tried, and tried, and tried, and tried. Night, day, dusk, dawn. There was nothing I could do. No way of curing his sickness. No way of reconnecting his body and mind. He's dead! He has always been dead! And yet... And yet. You appeared." Nico's voice gradually softened until it was no more than a mutter. "And I knew. I didn't admit it to myself, but I'm not an idiot. I knew it was Lance with you. I didn't want it to be true. True, true, true. But it was all true. Because nothing can ever go my fucking way."

Nico sank to his knees. He lifted his bloody palm to his mouth, eyed it, then dropped it. A concentration of red trickled down his skin, gathered at the end of his finger, and splattered across the floor. "I knew he was dead, yet I let my hope construct stairs to nothing."

Nico's throat made a horrible sound as he sobbed. Hot tears gushed down his cheeks, his long, black hair clung to his face.

Jordan ran to Nico's side - or did he drift? Not daring to touch the weeping boy, the ghost crouched beside him, face unrecognizably distorted and the bottom part of his legs transparent. "He's gone, he's dead." Nico wailed, his voice nails against a chalkboard. "Gone, dead, dead, gone. There's no coming back now. Lance's Funeral is coming. The fucking real one."

"There has to be another way!" Keith insisted, dropping his arms to his sides. His knuckle contracted where it gripped the blade's handle.

Nico wiped a bloody palm against his cheek, leaving a smear of crimson running from the side of his nose to his ear. "There isn't!"

"But there is..." Jordan's voice seeped through the walls and lifted from under the floor.

"What?" Keith snapped to attention. "There is a way?"

"No, no, no, no, NO!" Nico jolted to his feet, eyes ablaze with blue flame.

Keith looked at Lance - who was too stunned to move - then back at the others. "No, tell me."

"I said no!" Nico sneered. "Are you fucking suicidal?"

"Please, Nico." Jordan begged, tugging his sleeve. One of the gashes, which ran from Nico's wrist, revealed itself, but only a little. "At least tell them."

Nico was silent for a moment. "What did he say?" He asked Keith, not bothering to glance in his direction. "I can't hear him properly."

"He told you to tell us." Keith translated.

Nico sucked in a breath, his skin shimmering with sweat, tears, and blood. "I can't. Not with him here."

For a moment, Keith didn't know what he was talking about. Then Nico glanced from him to his right. Lance was on Keith's left. "No. If you're going to tell me something, you can tell him too."

"It's ok." Lance spoke, recovering from his baffled state. "I'll go."

Keith opened his mouth in protest, but nothing came out. Lance smiled softly, brushing his fingers along Keith's cheek. "It's ok. Stay strong."

And, with that, Lance left. Nico watched as the door pulled itself open and gently pushed closed. Keith waited, expecting - hoping - Lance would materialize before him like he did before. But that didn't happen. Keith was alone. Their connection was broken.

Keith didn't like it.

"How do I save Lance?" Keith said, not a question as much as a demand.

"I've already told you." Nico hissed. "Life cannot exist without death. Death cannot exist without life."

"Yeah, I know. That doesn't answer my question."

Nico raised an eyebrow, sending Keith's skin crawling. "Or, perhaps it does."

"Excuse me?"

"I think you understand more than you're letting on, mortal." Nico picked up his foot and let it hover just above the wood floor. Moments letter, it slammed down, clambering with all the force of an elephant.

Keith inched away. "I'm not here for your riddles. Tell me the truth. The full truth."

"Life and death, death and life." Nico sung. "One cannot exist without the other."

"I heard you already!" Keith's shoulders stiffened. "Start making sense."

Nico shoved his finger at Keith, his legs jostling him foreword. Before Keith had time to react, he felt Nico's finger on his chest. "How do you think a soul can live on without a functioning body? Or have you forgotten your little boyfriend is six feet under?"

Keith shuddered. An inkling of understanding was inching its way into his brain. "Oh..." Was all he managed.

"I know a ritual." Nico continued, "I know a lot of rituals. Want to know the one I've never used? Hmm, K E I T H?"

Keith said nothing.

"Soul/body restoration. You want to know why?"

"Not really."

"Because it's dangerous!" Nico took his hand from Keith's chest and flailed his arms outward. "Because heaven forbid I save anyone's life! Heaven forbid I keep a ritual that could mean immediate demolition for both the host and the soul! Because, fucking shit if I have any morality!"

"I could give my body to Lance, and he would live?"

"MAYBE!" Nico waved his hands in frustration. "And you would DIE."

"But Lance will live?"

"THAT'S WHAT I JUST SAID!" Nico spat. "Or he could DIE along with you!"

Keith nearly fell. He widened his stance. His legs wobbled and hands trembled. "What's the chance that it will work?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Nico ran his sleeve against his cheek. "You would DIE either way."

Yes, Keith knew that. And, yet, he didn't seem to care. "So this is how it ends? I never would've imagined. It's ironic, really."

"No, you are not doing it. You think I would willingly let you die, mortal?"

"You killed a squirrel. How am I any different?"

"Don't be stupid. That squirrel was going to live a miserable life anyways. If not that, it was going to be captured and killed. I don't murder for the hell of it."

"So the creature was useless?" Keith snapped, dropping the knife but not realizing it. Nico spotted the blade, then noticed Keith's red face. "How do you think I'll be if Lance dies? I don't think you've noticed, but I have no life to live without him. He does. He deserves so much more!"

"Stop saying that!" Nico shrieked. "Stop saying you're useless! Useless, useless, useless. That's all kids rant about nowadays, right?"

"Why the fuck do you care? You hate me!"

"Ha! You think I hate you?" Nico laughed.

"Ok, then what do you think?"

"I think you're an imbecile. And I think you're fashion choice is an atrocity. A... and I think you are close to Lance, and I think he cares about you for some fucking reason." Nico clicked his tongue. "Oh, young love. So obnoxious. So stupid. So oblivious."

Keith heard a bang followed by angry shouts. His head snapped right, line of sight falling on the shut, bedroom door. With eyes wide and head reeling, Keith made out a deep, male voice which boomed throughout the residence.

The color in Nico's face drained. "We're too late. He's back."