Guillotine - a Klance fanfic

And If You Have Nightmares, We'll Dance On The Bed

Lance was home, back on earth in his childhood house with his family around him. He got back a week ago, had been gone for about a year, but when he was surrounded by his family it was like no time had passed.

When he was eating his abuela's cooking.

When he hugged his mama every time that he could.

When he fought with his siblings.

When he played with his cousins.

When he had long talks about the other galaxies with his papa and his abuelo.

Everything was just so right, so calm, so perfect. He didn't want anything to change.

It was afternoon time and everyone in the McClain household went out to the deck behind the house for they're daily family time. They insulated this a long while ago, when his older siblings got admitted to colleges, so that they wouldn't drift apart.

All was well and normal, the adults drank white wine as the smaller kids ran around each other and the older ones talked over a varied amount of snacks. Each and every one of them shared something that happened, or will happen that day, starting from oldest down to the youngest (mainly this way to teach the little ones about patience). There was laughter, random conversations, little songs sung, a bunch of little things that they did as a family.

Then came the fire.

It hurled down from the sky and struck his father to the ground.

"Papa!" Lance cried, reaching out for him. But the moment he did another blast came from out of the sky, blasting his grandparents into an oblivion. Lance shrieked as he looked up to see Galra cruisers litter the skies, open firing down upon his family, his home.

Lance ran to gather everyone up, he tried to summon Blue but it didn't work for whatever reason.

Lance tried to protect his family, reaching out to pull them close to him one at a time, but every time just before he was able to get a hold of them, a shot would come down from one of the ships and kill that person right in front of his eyes.

He witnessed them all die, watched as each one of them called out his name in hopes that he would help them, but he didn't. He couldn't. He was unable to protect his family from the Galra, and soon they were all dead on the ground.

Lance fell to his knees and cried, watching helplessly as the house he called home burned to a crisp in front of him.

Keith woke up to find himself very confused.

First of all, he was not in his room.

Second, he was not wearing one of his own shirts.

Third, someone was on top of him.

Lastly, that person who was on top of him was crying.

What.

Keith groggily reached his hands up and shook the person on top of him, whatever room he was in it was dark so he wasn't able to see a thing around him. He only knew he wasn't wearing his own shirt because he didn't own anything long sleeved that wasn't his jacket (that he had in the castle anyway) and what he was wearing definitely wasn't his signature jacket.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked the person. "Where am I? Hello, can you hear me?"

The person on top of him shifted slightly, their breathing becoming heavier indicating that they were waking up.

"Mmm...Keith? When did you wake up?" a familiar sleep-heavy voice asked him.

"Lance? Wha-what happened?" Keith asked, wiggling a little to try and get out from under Lance. "Why were you crying? Where are we, it's dark. Why am I wearing your shirt?"