Lance laid there, curled in on himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection as his stomach threatened to rebel. Even with his eyes tightly shut, the light that seeped in past the curtains, beat against his eyelids, worsening the pain behind his eyes. The 20-year-old bit his lip as Keith moved next to him, a soft hand touching his arm gently. Lance flinched.

"Lance?" Keith asked softly, trailing his fingers up Lance's shoulder lightly, before touching his cheek, pressing his palm against his boyfriend's forehead. He cursed inwardly as the uncomfortable warmth from earlier met his fingers, and Lance shook his head. Keith shifted slightly, pressing his chin against Lance's shoulder, trying to get a better view of his boyfriend's face, trying to figure out what to do. Keith wasn't very good in these situations which Lance had always found funny considering the guy wanted to be an EMT.

It had been nearly two hours since Lance had woken up from his dream. Since then, both had fallen back into a pitiful restless sleep; Keith dreaming of red, Lance of blue. Both trapped inside the nightmarish hell from their pasts. It wasn't until 20 minutes ago that Lance had jerked awake, nausea plaguing his body, the undeniable question of whether he was getting sick, unfortunately answered.

Keith swallowed loudly as Lance shivered, cold sweat breaking out over his warm skin, soaking through his shirt slightly. He bit his lip as he ran a shaky hand through Lance's sweaty hair, choking back a cough, "L-Lance? I don't really know what to do here, babe. I-"

Lance whimpered loudly as his body pitched forward, watery bile spewing past his lips as he shut his eyes quickly. Tears formed in his eyes as he coughed loudly, hearing Keith curse as another disgusting wave of vomit filled his mouth, splashing against the ugly carpet below. Lance felt his body trembling and let out a half-choked sob as Keith pressed his hand against his boyfriend's shoulder, hoping to keep him from falling off the bed.

"Lance, fuck! It's okay. It's okay. Shiro!" Keith yelled loudly, steadying Lance as the younger boy curled tighter in on himself, whimpering loudly, guilt washing over him as he realized he was being a burden. Tears slipped past his long eyelashes harshly as Keith's scarred fingers ran over Lance's back, brushing his hair from his face gently.

"SHIRO!" Keith yelled again as Lance jerked forward, retching loudly.

A bang sounded from the other room, followed by something smacking against the door and someone yelling before the door opened quickly. Keith turned to face the door, squinting slightly at the sunlight that flooded through the hallway, before turning back towards Lance. The younger boy grasped tightly at Keith's hand, causing the older to wince slightly.

The 20-year-old groaned loudly, holding onto Keith's cold fingers, trying his best to steady his breathing, trying his best to ignore how shitty he felt. Keith needed him right now. Keith was sick. And Lance- Lance was just in the way.

Lance whimpered softly, stopping a strangled cough as he felt the bed dip slightly and something cold touch his forehead, brushing his sweaty bangs away from his face. He gulped loudly, opening his eyes to see Shiro's worried brown ones staring back at him.

"That's quite a fever, Lance," Shiro whispered gently, moving his hand to the younger boy's cheek. Lance bit his lip, trying to stop it from trembling as tears filled his eyes again, spilling over their tired rims. This is your fault. This is all your fault. Everything. You're just a burden.

"I-I'm sorry," Lance choked out softly, feeling Keith's fingers tighten around his hand, pulling him away from the edge of the bed, pulling him closer towards his chest. Lance hadn't realized he was crying again until he grasped Keith's shirt, something wet dripping down his cheeks, trailing down the bridge of his nose, and his vision clouded harshly. He hadn't realized he was shaking until Keith tighten his grip, scabbed slender fingers running through his hair, whispering to him softly.

…

There was so much blood. Crimson painting the black pavement, dripping from the steel frame, trailing harshly up Keith's face as he tried prying his eyes open to the painful world around him. Pain enveloped his right side and Keith groaned, trying to muddle through the dizzying haze hovering around him to figure out what happened. He cried loudly as his vision cleared and he glanced down at the puddle of blood forming below him, red trailing up his face, falling in his mouth, nostrils, wetting his hair before splashing down in the puddle below.

He blinked a few times as black clouded his vision momentarily, noticing for the first time, through his muddled mind, that he was upside down. He groaned loudly, trying to move trying to get free as his right arm burned harshly and Keith froze as his eyes connected with the scorched flesh. Bright red visible under burned flesh, black marks present around the nasty wounds, skin peeled back from the arm, revealing shiny, glossy red and white blisters that trailed their way down his arm and hands. Keith tried moving again, tears forming in his eyes as he realized he was stuck. He couldn't move. His ankle was wedged between something, sending sharp pain shooting through his body with every little movement. He screamed, yelling for help, trying his best to figure out where he was and why he was here.

He pressed his shaking hand against the metal, feeling along the hard frame, realizing he was in a car… Shiro! Despite the pain surrounding his neck, he peered to his left, sucking in a breath as his face met his older brother's unconscious form. Blood painted down Shiro's body, his face busted open as cruel crimson flooded down his face. Keith squirmed harshly, screaming as pain lit up his body, and he tried reaching towards his brother, calling his name loudly. Something snapped, shifting violently causing something sharp to pierce his shoulder and Keith-

Keith jerked awake, feeling someone shaking his shoulders. He pushed them away harshly, bolting upright, pressing his hands to his head, hunching over as his books fell to the floor with a loud crash. He sucked in a ragged breath, wiping roughly at the tears that threatened to spill past his eyelashes as he gripped at the headphones shoved in his ears. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just-

He coughed as someone touched his shoulder gently, and Keith pushed them away again. He was shaking, the skin on his hands burning, itching and Keith closed his eyes briefly, sucking in a few breaths as his heart pounded against his chest. He swallowed repetitively, yanking the earphones from his ears as he looked down at his textbooks and notebooks strewn across the dirty floor. He exhaled loudly. The 19-year-old glanced around the small corridor quickly, realizing, if not for the first time, he had fallen asleep on one of the benches inside the Chemistry building.

Keith gulped loudly, trying to force more oxygen into his deprived lungs, trying to calm down, trying to get his hands to stop shaking so damned much, as he swung his legs over the edge of the bench, bending down to pick up the books that had fallen to the floor. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the gloves over his hands like an unforgiving weight, and sighed deeply, opening his eyes. He sucked in a shaky breath as his eyes connected with deep blue ones, set in a concerned face, kneeling a few inches away from his face. Lance McClain.

"Are you okay, dude?" Lance asked softly, reaching forward to brush some of Keith's sweaty hair away from his face. Keith smacked his hand away, and bent down to pick up his textbooks, yanking the Calculus book from Lance's grasp.

"What are you doing here, McClain?" He asked softly, his voice wavering slightly. Keith grit is teeth. He sounded weak. Hell, he probably looked weak too. Lance had seen him weak… twice. Damned nightmare.

"I could ask you the same thing. I mean if you wanted to stalk me, all you had to do was ask," Lance smirked, handing Keith a green notepad. Keith looked up, straightening his posture, "Why in the hell would I want to stalk you?"

Lance raised an eyebrow, "I was kidding, Mullet. I was walking to class and saw you. Thought I'd say hey… Were you having a nightmare?"

Keith clenched his fist momentarily as he glared up at Lance. He took a deep breath, and stood on shaky legs, running his left hand over the palm of his right. Red and white blisters present under the scorched flesh, skin peeled back… There was so much blood.

"Hey! You have gloves! That's cool," Lance said softly, gesturing towards the black fabric covering Keith's trembling hands. Keith groaned, "What do you want, Lance."

Confusion etched across Lance's face as he placed a blue notebook on the bench, "I-What?"

It had been nearly two weeks since they'd first met, and despite seeing him several times across campus, Keith had done his best to avoid the guy. It felt too embarrassed that Lance had seen him like that… and now, seeing him now, brought feelings bubbling to the surface… feelings Keith wasn't sure how to handle. Keith cleared his throat, throwing his books back in his bag harshsly, "You keep showing up when I don't want you to. And no offense, but I don't have time to deal with you. I'm waiting for my brother… and I don't want you here. I want you to leave me alone! I want you to go away!"

Lance faltered, taking a step back and he swallowed loudly, staring at Keith for a few minutes, confusion etched across his face. Keith watched as Lance's light and friendly expression turned cold and harsh, unfamiliar and wrong. The shorter boy felt chills run down his spine, and grit his teeth, anger coursing through his veins. You're an idiot, Keith. Lance took a step closer, and Keith sucked in a quiet breath, standing his ground, waiting for Lance to throw a punch.

"Listen here, Mullet," Lance growled, slamming the last fallen notebook in Keith's opened bag, "I was just being friendly. I thought you seemed like a cool guy, but obviously, I was wrong. You're clearly just a dick."

Lance stepped back, kicking the worn-down copy of Hamlet that had fallen out of Keith's bag. Keith glanced down at the book, sighing softly as he realized the pages were beginning to tear apart from the book's spine. He bent down gently, picking it up, running his fingers over the fragile back, before glancing back up, realizing Lance had left. He swallowed loudly, glancing down the hall, seeing the tall boy entering a class at the end of the corridor.

Good fucking going Keith. This is why you have no friends.

Someone slapped him on the shoulder, causing the teenager to jump, and he turned to face Shiro.

"You didn't have to wait for me, Keith," Shiro laughed softly. Keith shrugged and glanced back down the hall, biting his lip, trying to decide if he should apologize. Shiro followed his brother's gaze, frowning slightly as his eyes met a closed door. He glanced down at the borrowed copy of Keith's favorite book clasped tightly in his hand, taking note that Keith seemed tense. Shiro shook Keith's shoulder gently, "Did something happen?"

Keith cleared his throat, tightening his grip around his backpack, "No."

He shoved the book in his bag before zipping it quickly, shoving past Shiro harshly as started towards his brother's apartment.