Chapter Text
Short huffs escape Lance’s mouth as he dreams. His eyes flutter underneath his eyelashes, and though he is physically unmoving there is so much going in that mind of his that it’s nearly unbearable.
Flashes of light melt into dizzying figures - the Galra- they’re on Earth, Lance realizes. He can see the grass underneath his feet when he looks down at himself, then at the gloves from his paladin suit. He clenches his fists and swallows his spit. At the moment, it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t remember the time leading up to this. All that matters now is the imminent threat of the Galra and the safety of his family.
Where is his family? Where is his team?
Lance looks around, fists still clenched, trying to catch the sight of one of the other paladins. The world is cloaked in the color blue; he can see his family’s farm in the distance with the torn-up fence and his pop’s car in the driveway. He turns to see if he can see his siblings are out doing chores. The familiarity of Earth vanishes as he turns his head and all he sees is the vastness of space surrounding him. “What the heck…? Shiro? Guys? Anyone?”
The realization sets in as anxiety tugs at his chest. He’s hesitant before calling, “Mami?”
In his sleep, his fingers curl into a fist. The arm that’s stretched above his head twitches with the impatience he’s feeling in his dream.
He’s all alone. Lance looks down on Earth with a sense of helplessness. How did he get so far away from Earth? How is he supposed to help from up here? His family is down there and he’s not. How is he supposed to help them from space?
Frustrated tears well up in his eyes and he tries to wipe at them but his arm bounces off of his helmet. Lance first looks at his arm and then down at Earth. This isn’t right, he realizes. Still, the heavy feeling in his chest doesn’t fade.
In fact, that anxious feeling only increases when he sees a Galra cruiser headed toward Earth.
“Stop! Shiro?! Where are you guys?! Stop!”
It speeds past him, and even though he shouts, it doesn’t stop. His voice, dwarfed by the infinite vacuum that is space, does nothing to stop the Galra. He’s nothing without his team. Maybe with them, he’d have a chance.
So why is he all alone?
“Shiro, please! Allura! Coran!”
A bright light shoots from the new Galra cruiser in the form of an Earth-destroying laser.
Lance screams as his vision is obscured by the blinding light.
Lance shoots awake with a gasp. He’s left needing to catch his breath, and though he wasn’t screaming in real life, his throat is hoarse. He briefly wonders where his team is, still partly caught up in the dream, but one glance to his room reminds him of the fact that it’s probably the middle of the night. He buries his face into his hands before sliding out of bed.
He slides on his Blue Lion slippers and chuckles to himself to try and make himself feel better. “Well, I guess that was my cue to wake up.”
His laugh catches on a hitched sob, and it doesn’t help the aching feeling in his chest, or the tears that are beginning to spill down his cheeks.
He removes the headphones he had stolen from Pidge so long ago and sets them down on his unmade bed. He thinks he can come back and try to sleep again after a relaxing lap around the castle, or at the very least he can come back and make his bed before breakfast time. It’s cold in the Castle, it always is, so Lance grabs his jacket off of the storage area he had set it on. The Altean dresser-like item is always folded up so that it takes up a minimal amount of space near the door. It looks like a desk, really, but when Lance had opened it up so long ago he had discovered Altean pajamas and a pair of Blue Lion slippers. It would have been easier to either hang up his jacket on the hook above the dresser like Keith does, or at the very least put it in the compartments with the rest of his regular clothes and his paladin armor, but he supposes it doesn’t matter now.
He slides his jacket on and wiggles his toes inside of his slippers. Lance rubs his eyes and wipes his tears away as he walks up to his door, walks straight through when it opens up immediately. He doesn’t have to try and look good, not when it's the middle of the night. He just gets up and goes.
They don’t really have clocks in the ship, or at least not in their rooms. Lance tries not to make a habit of keeping technology in his room either, otherwise, he’ll get no sleep at all. There’s no cell service up in space anyways, believe him, he had tried to make that a thing long ago. So he’s pretty sure it’s the middle of the night.
When Lance steps into the hallway, his eyes flit from the left and then to the right. It’s dark so that only confirms his suspicions of it being nighttime still. He takes a moment to think about it before going left, towards the bridge. He briefly wonders if Allura is awake, and then he shakes his head. She needs sleep too, especially being a powerful princess and all.
He’s not sure he’d want to have a conversation at this point anyways. He’s tired and a little out of it, and while he doesn’t want to have a conversation, he wouldn’t mind some company. If only just not to be alone.
He doesn’t want to be alone…
He pads down the hall in his slippers with arms crossed over his chest. The lights automatically turn on as he heads through the hall. Automatic lights are a nice touch, he can admit, and while they help where he stands, they don’t go much further than that. Looking into the darkness ahead is pretty unsettling.
Like, really unsettling. Lance sucks in a shaky breath. “I’m okay,” he reassures himself. He doesn’t remember his dream at this point, but he knows it wasn’t good.
It left him feeling alone and helpless- stuck, even. He feels useless, in a way. It’s the middle of the night, there’s nothing to do. There’s nothing to accomplish now, and he and the other paladins need their rest. So hopefully, after he clears his mind and gets a sip of water he’ll be able to fall back asleep.
Lance keeps his arms crossed over his chest while he walks. It must be a nighttime thing because usually, he doesn’t feel this cold during the daytime. A few more steps forward have him noticing the faint buzzing sound.
The Castle is blowing cold air. Huh, checks out.
When he arrives at the Bridge, he first notices that the room is empty. It’s lit up by Allura’s work area in the middle. The thing she steers the Castle with is almost always lit up with light. It’s important enough to be lit up all the time, he supposes. The usual seats that are out for the Paladins aren’t out, and Lance guesses they’re in the floor right about now.
He doesn’t know how Allura does it, but she can make the seats rise out of the floor. It’s usually only for particularly long journeys, or when she needs the paladins nearby for a long period of time.
If the seat of his workstation was out, he’d take a seat. For now, he can just stand around by himself. Which is not necessarily preferred. He wanders from the entrance to the room over to the glass encompassing the room and gazes out at the stars.
It’s then that he remembers part of his dream. The stars surrounding him. Being all alone. Being useless. Unable to help. Lance gasps and steps back.
He chuckles uneasily and steps back, swallowing thickly. He redirects himself and gives the room one last glance. Quickly, he leaves.
“Okay, I’ll go get some water,” he tells himself. He probably needs some anyway; his throat is still dry and he can feel it as he swallows. Lance heads off toward the kitchen, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around himself as he walks. He becomes increasingly more uneasy as his walk goes on, if only because of the silence and the dark hallway ahead of him.
It reminds him of that time the Castle was haunted, or corrupted, or whatever it ended up being. Sometimes he still thinks it could be a little haunted, but this time there is no way he’s getting in the airlock again. He’s not going anywhere near the cryopods either!
Lance shakes his head at the thought. “Nope, no way.”
As the lights turn on as he walks through the hall, his pace starts to pick up a little bit more, by the time he’s at the kitchen, he’s been sprinting just a little bit. Heaving a sigh, Lance pulls out a water pouch from the fridge-like storage box. Alteans don’t call them fridges, but Lance is sure that it is one.
He’s content to sip at his water until he hears a faint clanging sound. It sounds like swords, and for a second, he’s reminded of the evil training robot that tried to kill Keith. Quickly, that thought is washed away as, in his sleepy out-of-it mood, he realizes it could be something more sinister.
The Galra could have invaded the Castle. With a gasp, Lance shoots up and creeps out of the kitchen. This could be bad, really bad. If there’s fighting going on, why hasn’t anyone called for him?
He can help…why hasn’t anyone tried getting ahold of him?
Lance stops his line of thought right there and races towards the sound. He’s running right to the training deck, but he doesn’t realize until he skids to a stop in front of it.
He doesn’t even have a plan. Let alone a weapon.
Lance hears another clashing sound and a sharp hiss come from right inside the training deck and pushes his way through the doors.
He’s met with the sight of …
“Keith?” Lance asks, dropping his defensive stance.
“End training sequence.” Keith pushes himself into a standing position and looks at Lance. He looks confused and slightly hurt. He’s holding his ribs with one hand and his bayard with another. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Lance fires back. “I thought something was wrong. What are you doing? It’s the middle of the night!”
“I’m training?” Keith responds like it’s obvious, and it kind of is. He steps closer to Lance and eyes him warily. “What are you doing up?”
“Well, I had a- I got up to go get some water. You know, the thing we need to survive?” Lance doesn’t look any less defensive at this point, but then he deflates with his next question. “The Galra aren’t here?”
Keith is still taking tentative steps forward until he’s standing right in front of Lance. “Besides me, no. Why would they be?”
“Well, I heard fighting. I just thought that maybe you needed help fighting them off or something.” Lance rubs at the back of his neck as he realizes he misunderstood this whole situation. Though, he’s glad Keith is right here. He definitely isn’t complaining about human interaction after that dream.
“Look, don’t worry. If we were being attacked then the alarms would be going off and you’d be one of the first to know, right?”
“Well, yeah…”
“So it’s useless to worry about something that hasn’t happened.”
“I guess,” Lance replies, sighing softly. “You know, I left my water in the kitchen when I came to save your butt.”
Keith is quiet with his arms crossed over his chest and his bayard in one of his hands now.
“I should go get it,” Lance adds when Keith just looks at him.
“I’ll head that way with you,” Keith tells him, bumping his shoulder against Lance’s as he walks past him.
Lance can’t tell if it’s an accident or not, but judging by the way Keith says nothing, he guesses it was on purpose. He sends Keith a small smile and exits the room with him.
As they’re walking, Keith speaks up. “So you just got up to get water?”
Lance shrugs. “I went on a walk to clear my mind and I was thirsty.”
This was the stuff Keith was bad at. He didn’t know how to talk so seriously, let alone with Lance. He didn’t know how to lend emotional support when it was needed.
“Did it help?”
“Huh?”
“The water and the walk. Did it help?”
“I guess, man. Thanks.”
Keith nods once and follows Lance inside the kitchen. His water pouch is sitting on the counter near the dishwasher. It looks practically untouched, but Keith doesn’t mention it. If Lance wanted to lie about feeling better, then that isn’t his business. But when he notices how tired Lance looks, the bags under his eyes, and his slumped posture, he figures he should probably push at it anyway. That’s what a good teammate would do, right?
“Did you even sleep tonight, Lance?”
“Uhh, sort of. Why? Do I not look like a paragon of beauty or somethin’?” The only reason he uses that word is because he remembers how Pidge called him that when she was talking about leadership. Which, well, he is a paragon of leadership even now, thank you very much.
“You look tired.” Keith comes to stand even nearer to Lance. He slides that water pouch a little closer to him like he’s urging him to drink some. Keith thinks that if he had to force Lance to drink it he would.
Keith crosses his arms tight over his chest, watching Lance with narrowed eyes. He’s not the kind of guy to not make a big scene over this whole thing, but he does know that the team needs Lance in his best shape.
This might be hypocritical because sometimes Keith stays up too late too. He’s trying to get a handle on that, though. The team shouldn’t have to deal with a tired and cranky Keith (or Lance) especially not when that can put the team in danger.
It’s hard to think for the team, sometimes, because he’s really not the leader and he’s really not made for this. It’s Shiro. But here he is, gathered with his teammate, forcing him to drink some water in the middle of the night. And hell, it’s Lance, but annoying people need company and water too, he guesses. (Though if anything that guess is a little reluctant.)
“I am,” Lance says matter-of-factly, then seems to turn a little more meek, “but I don’t think I can go back to sleep. Not now, at least.”
Keith watches as Lance takes a sip of his water. He heads toward the fridge to grab his own pouch. He figures it’ll be okay because he doesn’t think he’ll be training anymore tonight. As he turns around to face his teammate he speaks. “Why not?”
The Red Paladin clamps his mouth down on his straw while he awaits an answer and begins sipping at his water.
Lance shuffles around on his feet before setting his pouch down and shrugging. He seems anxious. Because of what? Keith can’t tell.
“I had a bad dream.”
Ooh. Yeah. That would do it.
“Okay? What do you want me to do?”
Crap. That was not the right thing to say. It sounded rude even to his own ears.
Lance sighs and visibly deflates. “Nothing, man. Don’t worry.” He lifts his head to give Keith a crappy-looking fail of a reassuring smile.
Keith frowns. “Look, I’m sorry. I meant that seriously. What can I do to help?”
Lance leans back against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. He even raises an eyebrow at Keith curiously. The stance doesn’t last long, because he’s dropping his arms real quick after that. Keith can’t tell if he’s ADD or just anxious, but knowing Lance he probably has some level of attention issues.
Well, not even on some level; he does have attention issues. It’s clear, painfully obvious.
“Can you just stay with me for a second?” Lance asks.
And, oh. Keith was not expecting that. He can’t say no either. Not to Lance. Not when he’s like this: all keyed up and tired.
“Ye-” his voice cracks, “Yeah. Ok, I’ll stay with you.”
There’s an awkward silence at first like neither of them know what to do with themselves.
“Should we…?”
“We can head to my room,” Lance adds quickly.
Keith nods firmly and grabs his water. Lance grabs his water too, and then he’s looking over his shoulder at Keith, silently inviting him to follow.
They both step out into the hall together and fall into step together. They may not be of the same height or stature, but Lance usually slows down for Keith and Keith speeds up for Lance. It ends up working, even without the communication to make it work. This is undoubtedly helpful because the two are not known for their communication skills.
“So…” Lance starts.
“What did you dream about?” Keith asks bluntly.
He almost doesn’t expect an answer.
“Death,” Lance answers with an equal amount of bluntness.
Keith now wishes Lance didn’t answer.
“Oh. That explains why you can’t sleep.”
Lance laughs at that. Loudly, in fact. “Yeah, I guess. You ever had a nightmare in this place? It’s freaky waking up alone.” He shivers at the memory of not too long ago, and he even brings his arms up to hug himself and to mock warm himself up.
“I have. Yeah.” Keith looks hesitant like he doesn’t want to admit it.
Lance takes a second then to really look at Keith. At his clear skin, his chapped lips, the sweat prickling at his hairline. He must have really been working himself in training.
“Did you talk to anyone about it?” Lance feels like he already knows the answer.
“Shiro has nightmares now too.” That is an answer in and of itself. He’s not going to burden Shiro when Shiro has it worse.
Lance- well- Lance understands that. He wishes he didn’t, but he does. He can hardly believe he told Keith about his nightmare just now, but the embarrassment of asking for help hasn’t quite sunk in yet, and he’s kind of glad it hasn’t.
“You can come to me if you have one, you know. I’d be happy to help.”
Keith’s eyebrow quirks up. “You’re saying you wouldn’t bite my head off if I woke you up?”
They both laugh at that.
“Well,” Lance is smiling, “I’d try not to.”
Keith is sort of smiling too. They come to a stop right outside of Lance’s room and look at each other.
“Do you want me to…”
“I think I can handle myself from here,” Lance admits.
Keith nods and takes a step back.
Lance glances at his now open door and then at Keith who is pointedly looking away. Without thinking, he steps forward and wraps Keith up in a hug.
Keith’s arms are pinned to his sides as Lance embraces him. He’s not much of a hug guy, but clearly, Lance is. Slowly, hesitantly, his pinned arms come up as much as they can to wrap around Lance and pat at his back.
“Thank you,” Lance chokes out.
Keith frowns at the way his voice wavers.
“It’s not a big deal, Lance. I just walked you to your room.” It goes unsaid, but he’d do a lot more than that for Lance.
Lance laughs and pulls away, wiping at his eyes. “Thank you, though.”
Keith nearly withers right then and there.
“Goodnight,” he adds, turning to the darkness of his room, barely aglow with blue led light.
“Goodnight, Lance. Sleep well.”
Lance smiles and the doors to his room swoosh shut.
Keith grips his water pouch so hard it nearly explodes in his hand. He supposes he’ll go and try to get some sleep too.
If anything, they both deserve a normal night’s sleep.