Voltron One Shots

Again

Lance shot up from his bed, his breath abnormally heavy. Sweat beaded coldly down his face. It was that dream again, for the fifth night in a row. Awake again in the dead of night, he decided to do anything other than wait around until morning to arrive while staring at the grey ceiling, longing for his practically nonexistent rivalry with that long-haired boy who held the stars in his violet eyes. He swung his long legs off the side of the bed and sighed, looking at himself in the floor length mirror. He usually did so with a sense of inflated self-worth but he stared back at himself lousily. His brown hair stood up in every different direction. Red lingered around his slate irises. He hopped off his bed and walked to the door, which slid open upon his approach. The black hallway stretched on forever, but Lance kept his hand on the wall to ensure he found the correct room. His feet tapped softly against the cold, hard floor as he lethargically walked to the room of the original red paladin. The door slid open and Lance stared into the bright room from the doorway. He took a deep breath before stepping into the room. It was identical to his own if a bit neater only with a few leftover belongings to distinguish it from any other vacant room in the castle. The bed was made militantly. The blue blanket was tucked neatly into every corner of the mattress and the single pillow rested on top of the bed. Next to the door hung his red cropped jacket. Lance picked up the jacket and held it close to his chest. He forced back the inevitable tears but his efforts were fruitless. The tears stung as they trickled down his tan face. He sat down on the neat bed and pulled his knees to his chest, gripping the jacket tighter.

"Keith, why?" he sobbed.

"Lance?" a familiar voice said. Lance perked up and peered at the door to see a concerned Hunk looking in with a plate of aqua colored circles stacked a few inches high.

"Hunk, what are you doing here?" he choked out.

"I'm just getting a midnight snack. Why are you crying in Keith's room? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just go have your whatever those things are."

Hunk sighed and walked into the room. He set his plate on the floor and sat down next to his lanky friend.

"Lance, what happened? Why are you up so late crying in Keith's room? I thought you hated him."

"I don't hate him. The last few days I've been having these terrible nightmares. Keith and I are in some Galra ship together on some mission and we're fighting alongside each other. Then I get distracted or restrained by one of the Galra or something like that then I turn around and watch Keith get shot and I can't stop it. Even if we didn't get along all the time, I liked having him around. Ever since he left, things haven't been the same."

Hunk smiled knowingly and rubbed Lance's back.

"The Blade of Marmora is taking good care of him. We can probably ask Allura if we can contact them if you want to see him that bad. How about we ask her tomorrow. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah," Lance sniffled, nodding.

"Okay then. I'll go take you back to your room then I can go eat this delicious food."

"Thanks." The two stood. Lance rested the tear-stained jacket back on the hook. Hunk led Lance out of the room and back to his own room.

"Thanks again, Hunk. You're a great friend."

"No problem. But considering how much you two argue, it's surprising you miss him this much."

Lance's grey door slid open and he stepped inside.

"Keith and I make a great team."

"You guys really do."