Hands Touch

Part 1: Wake up

"Gimme a few more minutes..." By that, of course, Keith meant a lot longer. He had the enviable privilege of spending the night wrapped up in Lance's arms. He found it so addictive to just lie there and melt into him. But now it was morning.
"C'mon, Keith!" Lance shook him gently, cuddled up to him from behind. "I can't see those pretty eyes if they're shut." Keith giggled. "Tempting."
Lance couldn't contain his energy. He sat up and pulled Keith with him, who didn't even try to pull himself up. "You're all heavy..." Lance muttered, sitting him up and kissing his cheek. Gradually, Keith opened his eyes and wiped them. "Okay, okay, I'm awake!" He yawned.
"I was considering pulling a sleeping beauty, but the offer probably still stands." Lance smirked and pulled him close. Keith just nodded. "Mmm." All Keith could process was Lance warm, bed comfy.
They received a knock at the door that could only be Hunk. "Come on in!" Lance called out. Hunk opened the door and stepped in, sitting on their bed. "Morning guys, is sleeping beauty awake yet?" Keith grinned, blushing a little.
"Uh, Yeah, obviously! It's this one who's all sleepy!" Lance gestured to Keith. Hunk and Keith just laughed. "Whatever..." Keith mumbled, only to receive another wet kiss on the cheek from Lance. "Rude."
"So, Keith, you ready for your speech today?" Hunk asked innocently.
A deafening silence in the room followed, for around 9 seconds.
"Hm?" He finally responded. "You know, your big 'I'm the black paladin and we beat the bad guys' speech?" Lance's face was as white as a sheet. "I forgot to tell him..."
"You what!?" Hunk nearly fell off the bed. "Hm?" Keith just looked up, confused. "I didn't know I was doing a speech.."
Hunk looked at Lance like he could run him over with a bulldozer. "Yeah, you are! Lance was supposed to tell you!" Lance had the guiltiest look a teenage boy could wear. "A-And I was gonna tell him! We were just busy cuddling..."
Keith felt like he was going into fight-or-flight. If anything was going to wake him up, this would. "I have to do a speech..." Hunk kept his best 'this is fine' look strapped to his face. "Yeah." Keith took a deep breath. "Funny how a wormhole doesn't open up and swallow you when you want it too."
Lance kissed his forehead. "It'll be fine! I'm sure you'll bring forth some of your Keithy, amazing, talented genius." Keith nodded. "Okay, okay. I'd better get some breakfast" He chuckled nervously. "Yup, you better!" Hunk replied. They moved off the bed to get up, and Lance held Keith's hand. Keith was all-too-familiar with the feel of Lance's hand, and had many moments to remember it by. The weird, trusting rush he felt when Lance held his hand and looked into his eyes at the fall of Sendak. Two years later, Lance's naked hand brushing against his under the table as they sat next to each other, only to see Lance red-faced and averting his eyes. Lance holding his hand tightly as Keith was in a state of near-death, so tight that he could feel Lance's pulse. It was a hand like no other, attached to the person who could make Keith's pulse race. At least Keith could mess up a public speech with the beautiful knowledge that Lance still loved him.

Silence.
Funny how fast the light that Lotor saw, a pure whiteness, immediately faded to pitch black. Inside, he felt every cell in his body tearing into minuscule pieces. The bottom of his spine all the way to the very tips of his eyeballs burned away, and then there was nothing. All he could turn his mind to was the nagging realisation that everything he had attempted was now crashing down in front of him, and all the things he had hoped to accomplish would never happen. Was this regret? It was unclear, and all ways of processing thought seemed to melt away.
'There is work to do'
Words just passed him by. Whatever voice he was hearing did not matter. Lotor has ceased to exist.
'Awaken...'
The whispers grew louder. Whatever they were saying could barely register.
'Awaken, child. There is work that must be done.'
A singular voice started to ring in his head. A vaguely familiar tone that he seemed to know well, but had not heard for a very long time. But something within him seemed to be drawn to this voice and presence. He wanted this voice to take  him. He wanted it to sooth him. He wanted it to hold him and eat away the shame and anguish he felt.
'Come to me, my child...'
A bright light shimmered before him. He wanted to touch it, but he couldn't. He didn't exist.
But then why did this light seem so real? Why is this light making him feel?
He reached out with his mind, gradually being pulled towards this glistening light. A hand seemed to reach his as he reached out, grasping it. It was a hand that he was so familiar with. A soft grasp that seemed to call forth a plethora of memories, including something maternal...