Lance's consciousness slowly returned to him; opening his eyes and darting them across the glass screen he was presented with. He put his head in his hand and groaned, still not totally processing his surroundings. The glass wall in front of him slid downwards and disappeared into the floor, so he took a step forward to explore the room. Before he could even take another step, a burning sensation rung in his head, and not too long after he found himself lying on the floor with a thud, left there in an awkward position.
He gave up, and decided to stay on the floor. His eyes reverted to the ceiling above him. His eyes felt sore. He knew it was from crying, but he couldn't remember crying, or why he would be. He tried to put together pieces of a puzzle he didn't even have the pieces for, attempting to get a better understanding of the memories he couldn't read or decipher.
Debris.
Person..
Dead...Keith.
...Keith.
Keith Kogane: his reckless, skilled teammate had died in action.
Lance wanted to just label it a nightmare, because he couldn't come to terms with how realistic the pain felt, and how he knew it was real. No. No he can't. He can't be, not someone like that. Someone that skilled could never die. No way.
But he did. Face it, he's gone. You should've known this would've happened.
He's dead.
Lance screamed, his voice hoarse and cracked. He raised his hand and dug his fingernails deep into his wrist and screamed even loader, tearing at his own skin, gripping his skull tight and screaming for it all to stop.
What sort of fucked up dream is this?!
He gripped the ground and scrambled for something to claw and yell at, something to blame for this madness, someone to blame that wasn't himself.
Then, Multiple footsteps echoed closer and closer towards him, only faintly hearing them through his blocked ears. Although soon enough he could feel their hands reaching for his wrists and attempting to calm him down, hushing phrases like 'it's okay' into his ears. Lance tried to escape, still thrashing at something to unleash his rage on.
The yells faded into sobs and gasps for air, mixed with gagging and croaking. He had clenched his eyes shut, but he could feel both Pidge, Hunk and Shiro holding him tightly. He had no breathe or motivation to apologise. He just raised his arms at Hunk for a hug, and immediately received a tight grasp back. Hunk always had the tightest of hugs, maybe because he felt that if he let go he'd never hug them again. Pidge and Shiro soon joined, their tears trickling down lance's neck.
They all wailed their sadness away, so much their eyes would burn and their cheeks feel numb.
It hurt.
It really fucking hurt.
~~~
He glared down at the brightly coloured food goo, that had been placed in front of him after he was told he had to eat, because of how long he'd been out. Ugh. It was too bright. How could something be so colourful and loud at this kind of time? It was inappropriate, disrespectful even.
As Lance continued to be intimidated by the vividly coloured goo, a memory flashed through his mind. He knew this felt familiar; sitting at the top of the table and being surrounded by his teammates that is. Except this replay of a joyful moment in his life was dull and sour, and most importantly, missing an important character.
He remembered Keith complaining how lance 'didn't remember' their bonding as moment, he remembered being gently cradled in Keith's slightly muscular arms, and him resting his head into Keith's shoulder.
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You were too late. {A klance fanfiction}
FanfictionLotor was too late. No one even knew what had happened - except for Matt. But it wouldn't be long before everyone had found out about the sacrifice that a member of their family had made. Then there was Lance. He was a broken soul, drowning in his o...