Everything (and nothing, all in one)

12

To hear Lance's voice again was-

Well, Shiro couldn't quite describe it

There was a relief, a deep, heartwarming relief that he had even picked up the phone. Every part of him lurched at his voice through the tinny speakers, and he felt his heart swell with an affection he didn't even know he had. To be honest, he would have understood if Lance had deleted his number, blocked his calls and let him alone.
But no, Lance was there, having answered his call almost immediately.

Maybe he hadn't ruined this completely after all.

"Jesus, Lance," he said quickly, aware of the hitch in his voice and the speed at which the words were tumbling out of his mouth, "I'm so- I'm so sorry."

"I know," came the reply, harsh and short through the receiver, "you have a lot of explaining to do."

"I know, I know," he stammered, hardly hearing Lance over the thumping of his heart in his ears, "I just- I just needed to get away."

There was the huff on Lance's side, and the signature muffled hum of someone covering the speaker with a hand, before the tell-tale squeak of door hinges and two sets of footsteps getting quieter.

"Lance?"

A bit more muffled talking, and a harsh laugh.

"Go on then."

"What?"

The eye roll Lance sent him was practically audible. "Explain."

But where to begin?

"My mom," he started, taking a deep breath as he readied himself, "she found out about you - about us. It was my fault, and I should have been more careful, but-"

"Was that when Andrew-" Lance coughed, cutting himself off. He wasn't alone in that room- "was a bit of a asshole on the drive?"

"Yeah," Shiro replied with a sad laugh, "she found your wristband and the messages on my phone."

"So?"

"Well, she- She fired Coran."

There was a gasp from the end of the phone, and Lance clicked his tongue loudly in distain. "Doctor Smyth? The ginger dude who threatened to throw me to Woblay if I hurt you?"

Coran had made quite the impression, it seemed.

"That's him."

Another gasp. "She threw him out? Like, fired? Gone?"

"Yep," he confirmed, nodding although he knew Lance couldn't see it, "she blamed him for my 'obsession' with you, called him an enabler or some shit."

"That's horrible," Lance spat in reply, "what the fuck?"

For a moment then, it almost felt like it was before, like late night rant sessions all over again.

He heard Lance sigh; he must have noticed this too.

"Yeah," Shiro replied lamely, falling back against the cushions. Part of him wanted to stand, yank that damn IV out of his arm and throw himself to the window, just for the chance to see Lance, wave at him awkwardly like it was May again and wait for Lance to scribble his number on the window in sharpie. He wanted to see him grin without pixelation or the haze that came with memories, bright and real in front of him.

But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't see a smile, nor a grin. The sparkle of those blue eyes would be gone; for good, maybe, he didn't know. Replaced by betrayal, hatred possibly, hurt.