Klance: It's all Pidge's Fault

The Truth

   "It's my dad. As usual. He came back drunk again tonight. This time he went after my mom instead of me, a lot of our family members had already gone to bed, but I came down the stairs and saw him hitting her in the kitchen. I couldn't let that happen, so I decided to step in. He pushed me over, and was about to start hitting me when my mom stopped him. Finally he calmed down, but when my mom turned back to me it was like she was disappointed in me. For trying to help her; it was just like when I was little. It's like even when I'm trying to do the right thing it's the wrong thing to them. They both hate me, and so do my siblings. It's a terrible feeling. Having the world's biggest family you would think it would be awesome, but not when they all despise you. Even the ones that do love me like Victoria still think they're better than me. I just...I hate feeling 24/7 that I'm not good enough. For anyone. For my family, for my school, for my friends, for the girl I like...I could go on. So then...after that happened with my dad I just...I...I...never mind," Lance stammered. Keith placed his hand on Lance's, looking into the boy's crystal eyes, their chests pressed against each other, skin to skin.

    "Tell me," he whispered. Lance shut his eyes tightly, then began to tug at his jeans. Keith's eyes grew wide in confusion.

    "Lance?" He started before he realized. All along Lance's beautiful thighs were cuts. They looked deep, and painful. Keith felt his breath leave him. It was disturbing.

   "Oh no, Lance," he cried out as Lance kicked off his jeans. Lance sighed.

    "I know. They're hideous, just like me. I can't control myself...I'm afraid Keith," Lance admitted. Keith began trace the scars gently, unable to look away. He wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed them last time Lance had just had on boxers. Probably because a lot of them looked fresh.

    "Lance, please stop doing this to yourself. They're not hideous, but they hurt me. It hurts me to see all the pain you're going through. You need to get out of that place, you should come live with me and Shiro! Your Dad sounds evil! Pure evil! I can't believe your mom puts up with him and let's him treat you that way! I can't believe she treats you that way! Don't they realize they're killing you?! Don't they realize how much they'll regret it if you leave them?! I just don't see how people could make you feel this way Lance! You're beautiful! You're amazing! You have this smile...this charm that lights up everyone around you. You've changed my life for the better! You...you matter!" Keith cried, putting their foreheads together. Lance smiled lightly, softly taking Keith's hand into his own. He began to stroke it softly, then turned it around as he took their heads apart. They looked at Keith's pale wrist together where there were just as many scars as Lance's thighs. Just less recent ones.

   "This is why you wear those gloves all the time isn't it? You're a pretty big hypocrite you know...telling me I matter and that I shouldn't off myself when you've tried to do it yourself," Lance said sadly. Keith winced.

    "It's different with me Lance. First of all, these scars are old. Well, not that old, but certainly not new. I've been slowly getting better, it's just...complicated I guess. But you're not like me! You're sweet and kind! I'm moody and distant. I'm the one that doesn't deserve to be here, not you," Keith promised, an intensity behind his eyes as he squeezed Lance's hand.

    "Keith...what happened? What made you think that way? Because if anyone matters it's you. You've done so much for me...how can you not see it? What happened in middle school?" Lance pleaded. Keith looked down, unable to meet Lance's eyes.

    "A lot," he sighed.

     "I told you my story, now it's your turn. Maybe this could help you feel better. I know it'll help me," Lance whispered. Keith sighed. If it meant it would help Lance, then he should say it. He knew it would help him too, even if it would be hard to say.