blades of grass on tiny bare feet
i look at you and you're looking at me
The dreams were happening more often now. When he first lost Keith, Lance simply shut down. He knew Keith wouldn't come back; how could he? Why should he? Lance wasn't good enough for him, he'd always known that. Even at night, Keith would hold him tight and promise him things that weren't even plausible, just because they sounded nice. He would never stop caring about Keith, it was unreasonable to even ask such a thing. Keith was everything to him.
some black birds soaring in the sky
tell me that was you, saying goodbye
Lance felt heavy, when he woke up, when he ate - if he ate - up until he went to bed. It wasn't their bed anymore. Lance hated that. He often just slept on the couch where someone would toss a blanket over him when they walked by. He appreciated the team, he truly did, but he couldn't voice it for some reason. He had never been this broken over another person before, especially a boyfriend.
there are times I feel the shivering cold
that's how you tell me I'm not alone
That was his problem: he tried to tell himself Keith was just a boyfriend. That was not true and he knew it. Keith was his best friend, his family, the light of his life, his teammate. Lance had lost every will to live at that point and he hated himself for feeling that way, but he did. Voltron didn't need him. Coran could pilot Blue, he'd love that, Lance thought.
in my head, I see your baby blues
i hear your voice and I, I break in two
It was probably around February when he truly decided that Voltron didn't need him. Hunk found him rummaging through the kitchen one morning in the skinny hours. It may have been one in the morning, neither of them knew. Hunk tried to start a conversation but soon stopped when he noticed the frantic breathing and searching. He was just searching. "Don't they have fucking kitchen knives in space? Fuck!" he gasped and his friend was there, tackling him to the ground and just holding him there as he sobbed about how he wasn't of use to them. Since then, everyone kept an eye on Lance.
so when I need you can I send you a sign
i'll pick a star and watch you shine
149°S, 8°E Lance knew that was where he would look if he were home. The bright star of Keith that only showed in their home galaxy. From here, there were no set points. He could never look into the same spot and see the same thing. Every ten minutes they were in another galaxy. He hated it. He wanted to go home. He wanted Keith to go with him to his home to visit his family and take naps on the beach, hot sand on backs and cold water on toes.
just beam me up
a minute's enough
He missed everything. He missed the stupid jokes Keith would tell him when he was sad. He missed his mom. He missed his favourite meal. he missed feeling anything. Lance had become someone that he never wanted to be, someone who shot first and asked questions later. Everyone had to admit, he was improving in his fighting, but they knew it was at the expense of his sanity. No one questioned it anymore. He was just different, and that was how things were now.
give me a minute
i don't know what i'd say in it
It didn't even matter at that point. Keith was gone - he knew that. he just wanted to be there too; wherever there is, he figured. But he hadn't just left Lance, it wasn't like they could "work it out" or "be friends." Keith had left everyone. Lance remembered it too, those last minutes, he remembered banging on the wall because he thought that maybe if something hurt his body his heart would stop hurting. The red-accented suit seemed to be fully red and he couldn't help but crack a joke about how the really colour suited him. Keith laughed despite the fact that afterwards he was coughing up more blood, and, dear god, there was blood everywhere.
probably just stare
happy just to be there, holding your face
Once a year, it happened; Lance would end up back in their bed, gripping the red pillow that he hadn't washed in two years - and never would. This was the only time he let anything out. Lance held on to the last trace of his lover, his best friend. He sobbed all day, occasionally calming himself enough to wish the open space a happy birthday. He knew it looked silly but Lance needed it, he needed to mourn, he needed to break down every so often - they all needed it and they all had to take the time for it. Lance took his harder but he took it none the less. At first he was louder and angrier and more confused, though now he was aware of the hole in his heart but he could live with it. He knew it would never grow back.
