Space dad?

Opening up(changed)

Lance placed the silencer on his gun. That man is still alive. Just the thought haunted him. He never called him dad. The one time he had tried he gained nothing but a broken arm and a busted lip. That's when he decided he had never had one.

"Alright Lance you need to contain this fear and train it. You can't just freeze up if you meet him," he scolded himself barley paying attention to the perfect head shots he had acheived.

Slowly he began to ramble to himself. "Why couldn't you tell that old trash heap of a person was an alien. An altean who's now probably partners with Lotor and Zarkon! And here you are still haunted by a look? Get a fucking grip!"

He ranted out his insecurities that not even Hunk knew. His homesickness, self doubt, the way he repeated everything from his scars.

"You already knew what he told you was true. How could you let the truth sting so bad? You sorry, good for nothing waste of life!" He spoke about how he couldn't have hated you more than he hated himself. How the paladins deserved a better teammate. A better friend.

He trained harder than he did with his fellow paladins. Allowing his emotions to fuel his speed and aim. His usual Thirty minutes bled into hours. First 3 then 5 and so on. His chest heaved from lack of air his eyes not noticing when the training room lights brightened to simulate day.

He was deep in thought. Hitting target after target. When Lance finally stopped his body was shaking from exhaustion but he tuned it out. "Lance promise yourself that you won't be weak again." he spoke with disgust; returning his bayard to its stand. He left the room in a hurry running directly into Keith.

"What are you doing up so early?" the red teen asked hoisting himself up. To tired to make a snarky remark.

Lance brushed himself off apologizing in the process. "Nothing mullet man." He shot a finger gun speeding down the hall and back to his room.

Keith shrugged. "Well that was odd." he muttered entering the training room. Lance had forgotten to exit the scoring screen.

Keith studied his scores. They were higher than his own. His eyes skimmed over to The training footage which also happened to display the time. Keiths frown deepened, Lance had stayed up all night training. His fingers hit play.

The usual happy teen was stone faced the whole time his eyes glazed as he spoke to himself.

Keith listened to the cuban pour his soul out to the empty space. Spilling about his deepest insecurities and fears. He mentioned scars and keith froze.

Scars? Keith had never seen any scars. Not that he had looked though. He skipped ahead. Lance felt like he was a waste. That they deserved better. Each sentence was like a new punch to gut.

"Promise yourself that you won't be weak again." he was physically exhausted but his eyes were wild. Something Keith hadn't even achiever when shiro was gone.

Keith had never seen Lance so serious. It wasn't right. He turned off the screen forgetting his own extra training. First he checked his room. Empty.

He instead found him chugging water in the kitchen. "Lance," keith began trying not to be too loud.

The other boy jumped a shiver running down his spine. He placed a hand over his racing heart faking a leveled breathing pattern as he spoke, "Holy Quiznack! Keith you shouldn't sneak up on people like that. I thought you were training?"

Keith kept his answer short and to the point no use in beating around the bush. "You left the scores up. I watched your session."

Lance looked away; he didn't like the tone of keiths voice."oh really, you jealous of my skills!" he told the raven haired boy hoping the sound hadn't worked. That just maybe he had been quiet enough.