Chapter Text
Keith’s still asleep. He’s curled up against Lance, his forehead pressed to Lance’s hip. Lance sits up against the pillows, a data pat propped against his knees.
He sighs, looking away from Keith and back to the task at hand. He’s on the notes section of the data pad. Everyone has access to the notes section from every date pad, but they each made their own little folders, and it’s common curtesy to not open one another’s notes.
Now, Lance stares at his own notes folder, the most recent notes at the top of the list. For my family. For Hunk. For Pidge.
There’s one for everyone. He doesn’t click on them. Each letter was written within the past week, and he doesn’t have the strength to read over what he wrote. All he knows is that each letter brought him to tears, and he really hopes his friends aren’t going to have to open them tonight.
He stares at the last note, the one at the top of the list. For Keith.
He still hasn’t been able to write anything. He started that note first, just the title, and became so overwhelmed that he had to take a break. Every time he tries to come back to it, he finds that he can’t even open the damn thing. The thought of expressing how he feels for Keith, of trying to tell him everything in just written prose, feels impossible. Even now, he can’t open it.
He ends up setting the data pad aside, and he looks back at Keith.
So, so beautiful. So perfect.
“I can feel you staring at me,” Keith grumbles. Lance reaches out, brushing Keith’s hair out of his face.
“I like looking at you,” Lance says.
“Creep,” Keith jokes. His eyes are still closed, but he’s smiling. “I’m hungry.”
“Let’s go get breakfast,” Lance says. Part of him doesn’t want to leave the bed. Leaving the bed means truly starting the day. His last day. But he can’t stop time by hiding away in Keith’s room, so he gets up and gets dressed with Keith. They brush their teeth side by side, and Lance tugs on Keith’s hair — it’s getting awfully long. “You have to let me braid this,” he says.
“Braid it tonight,” Keith says. Lance smiles, his lips tight, and says nothing.
Breakfast isn’t a talkative affair. Allura tells them that they’re on course for the Zyhrtites’ planet. Not once did anyone suggest crossing them. Lance doesn’t doubt that they would come after Voltron with full force if they tried to avoid the promised sacrifice.
Before they get there, Lance finds himself in the med bay, staring at Pidge. Their medical chart shows all good things. It looks like they might even be out of the pod tomorrow, considering how quickly they’re healing.
“You’re a great friend,” Lance tells them. “You’re gonna see this war to its end, and you’re going to find your family.”
Pidge doesn’t respond, obviously. Lance presses a hand against the glass, and then he walks away.
Getting to the planet is a hassle. Not because it’s actually difficult to get there in any way, but because no one seems to have the heart to suggest they breach the atmosphere. Keith stands stiffly directly beside Lance, and everyone seems to be unconsciously grouped around him.
“Allura,” Lance murmurs. She’s standing in the center of the bridge, but the Castle is still. “It’s time.”
Lance can tell she listened to him, because the planet begins to move closer. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and then she spins around and marches toward Lance. For half a second, he thinks she’s going to slap him.
The next moment, he has an armful of Allura. She’s way stronger than she looks, so Lance feels like he’s being crushed, but he hugs her back just as hard. Allura’s presence sometimes makes her seem like the tallest person in the room, which is why it’s always surprising when Lance remembers he’s taller than her.
“Princess,” Lance says softly. Irrationally, he was hoping they wouldn’t get all emotional. It’s only going to make things harder.
“Lance,” Allura says. “You’re a terrific paladin, and an amazing friend. The universe has so much to thank you for.”
Lance rubs her back. “You lead the Coalition better than anyone could. You’re going to win this war, Allura.”
Allura sniffles, and she steps back. The planet’s getting even bigger. They’ll be landing in a few minutes.
The next thing Lance knows, he’s being tugged tightly into Hunk’s arms — he crushes him even harder than Allura was able to. “You’re my best friend,” he says. “I miss staying up late and talking to you about everything and nothing in our dorm. I even miss how often you’d distract me from my homework and persuade me to sneak out. Lance, I—”
“I know, buddy,” Lance says. “I love you, too.”
“I don’t want you to—” he breaks off, sounding choked up.
“Me neither,” Lance admits. He claps Hunk on the back, and he has to look at the ground, because if he looks at Hunk he’s going to cry. He won’t be able to help it.
“Lance,” Coran says. He’s standing in front of Lance now. “Since meeting you, I’ve watched you grow into a fine young man. You — this whole team — you’ve become family. I’ll never not be proud of you.” He holds on his hand. Lance grabs it, and he tugs Coran into a hug. Coran sniffles loudly into his ear.
Shiro’s next, because everyone really is getting out their goodbyes now. Despite everyone being in denial about it for so long, Lance thinks that now they’re all realizing that this really could be it.
Shiro grabs Lance by the shoulders. “You’re selfless to the point of recklessness,” he says sternly. “You’re too good for this shitty universe.”
“Language,” Lance murmurs.
Shiro ignores him. “You’re the morale of this team, and we never could’ve made it this far without you.”
Pre-Voltron Lance would’ve been shitting his pants, hearing this.
“I used to think relationships among this team was a bad idea, but I’ve never been more wrong. You’re perfect for my brother.”
“Jesus,” Keith mutters.
“Shiro, you absolute softie,” Lance says, and Shiro pulls him into a hug.
After that, everyone looks at Keith. Expectant.
Keith just crosses his arms, stubborn.
“Lance,” he says.
Everyone waits.
“Don’t forget you promised to braid my hair tonight.”
Lance laughs. Allura looks shocked, no doubt expecting something much more emotional, and Shiro looks downright uncomfortable. But it wouldn’t be Keith if he weren’t still in denial, or at the very least, keeping all his feelings of worry and anxiety close to the chest.
“How could I forget?” Lance says, and he reaches out to grab Keith’s hand. Keith holds his a little tighter than usual.
Everyone wrapped up just in time. They touch down in the landing zone they were cleared for, and when they emerge from the Castle, Lance sees Raghir, the alien he spoke to over the comm call.
“I didn’t know whether to expect the rest of your team,” Raghir says. He reaches for Allura’s hand, which he kisses politely.
“I ended up telling them,” Lance says.
“Wise choice,” says Raghir. And then, “If you’ll follow me.”
He leads them through the roads, past a luxurious looking castle, and toward a giant arena. It must already be packed with people, if the roar of conversation is anything to go by.
“Our people are empaths,” Raghir explains as he leads them through some sort of back entrance. “Our main source of sustenance is emotion, which is why we demand sacrifices. The feelings that come before death — they’re a feast.”
Behind Lance, Keith sucks in a breath. Death. It’s confirmed, then.
“Right,” Lance says.
“Now, the order of proceedings,” Raghir says, all business, as if they’re discussing some upcoming business deal instead of the end of Lance’s not-very-long life. “First, we’ll bring you out into the arena. The king will greet you, and he’ll read out a list of your accomplishments with Voltron. This will make the audience like you more, which makes the meal more satisfying.”
“Right,” Lance says. He doesn’t know how he’s still walking. How he’s yet to just collapse on the ground.
“After that, you’ll have a moment to make your own announcement — you could thank the Zhyrtite soldiers for their help with the battle, or if you have some moving speech, that always works too.”
“Right.” It’s all Lance can say.
“Then, the King will release the combatant. You’ll be allowed a wooden spear. The fight won’t last long, and the beast is trained to make the actual kill quick. You won’t suffer.”
Somewhere behind Lance, someone lets out a muffled sob. Raghir inhales deeply, and Lance wonders if he’s feeding already.
“Hereafter, Voltron won’t be required to provide a sacrifice for our help. Yours will be enough, and we’ll assist with any battle, free of charge.”
“Like a membership,” Lance jokes weakly.
“Exactly,” Raghir says. “One last thing.” He hands Lance some kind of metal bracelet with a button on it. “Before the kill, the beast will hesitate. That’s when you must press this button. In that moment, the emotions you’re feeling will be pulled out of your body and expelled into the crowd. You can think of it like dessert, for our people.”
“Okay,” Lance says. Raghir looks at him, then to the team.
“I’ll give you a moment alone,” he says. “The ceremony will begin shortly. Please keep it quick.”
With that, he disappears, and Lance stands frozen.
“I’m going to throw up,” Hunk says wetly.
“Don’t do that, dude,” Lance says. His hands are shaking.
Everyone seems frozen with shock or fear. Lance can’t believe this is happening — that this is what he was prophesied for. Dying in battle definitely would’ve been better. Would’ve felt more heroic, for sure.
“Lance,” Keith says, and his voice sounds thick, and Lance’s heart aches for him.
“I’m sorry,” Lance says. “I—"
Keith’s shaking his head. Lance almost expects him to cross his arms, to start tapping his heel. “I can’t let you go out there,” he says.
“Ceremony’s starting!” Raghir calls from down the hall. Lance stiffens, as does the entire team. Lance’s eyes feel strangely dry, but everyone else — every single one of them — they’re crying. They’re crying for him.
Lance strides forward. He grabs Keith’s face, and he presses a bruising kiss to his lips, trying to say everything he doesn’t have the time to say now, everything he couldn’t manage to put into that letter. All his love, all his affection, all his everything — in a single kiss.
He pulls away. Keith’s gripping his wrists. “I love you,” Lance tells him. “So much.”
And then he pulls away for real. He slips out of Keith’s grasp, and the noise Keith makes will haunt Lance for the rest of his admittedly short life. He follows Raghir down the hallway he disappeared into, and then he’s standing in a gaping entrance, looking out into the arena.
“It’s your time to shine,” Raghir says pleasantly.
“Wonderful,” says Lance. And then he steps into the arena.
Immediately, the cheers overwhelm him. The kings lets his audience scream and stomp and clap for a good while as Lance gets to the center of the arena. When he stands, the audience falls quiet.
“Today we celebrate the sacrifice of Lance McClain, Paladin of Voltron,” the king begins. And that’s when Lance tunes him out.
He has no idea whether the speech is good. Whether the things the king mentions are things he’d want to be remembered for. It all just slides over deaf ears. Lance can’t stop staring at the giant gate underneath where the king sits, the shadow of the monster within moving restlessly.
Lance wonders what he looks like, right then. Small, definitely. Pale, probably. But he hopes he’s at least standing up straight, with his head held high.
God, what a stupid way to die.
“And now, for the Last Words,” the king announces. Raghir runs toward Lance, holding out a microphone. Lance realizes he probably should’ve been planning what he wanted to say.
“Um,” he says, the second he’s holding the microphone, and that one word echoes all around him. He cringes. “I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t really plan a speech for today,” he says. The crowd laughs.
Lance opens his mouth, wracking his brain. What does he want his last words to be? What wisdom does he want to impart? What in the world does he want to be known for?
Before he can say anything, the crowd gasps. Instinctively, Lance looks toward the monster’s gate, but it’s still closed.
The next thing he knows, Keith’s crashing into him, and Lance hugs him to his side with one arm automatically. He holds him tight. Keith is shaking against him.
“Keith, babe, what are you doing here?” Lance asks. His voice echoes around the arena again, and he lowers the microphone slightly. Keith grabs it from his hand.
“I want to make a sacrifice,” he says.
Lance immediately yanks the microphone out of his hand. “No,” he says sternly. “Keith, no, that’s not happening.”
The crowd is murmuring with excitement. Anxiety is clawing its way up Lance’s chest, into his throat. Fuck. What if these people make Keith sacrifice himself, too? They can’t. Keith can’t. He has to live.
In Lance’s panic, Keith manages to yank the microphone out of his hand.
“I have a better sacrifice,” he announces. “In the place of Lance’s sacrifice.”
“Go on,” the king calls to him.
“When that beast comes out, you might get a decent meal,” Keith ventures. “There’ll likely be some fear, some sadness. But mostly, Lance is just going to feel determined. And you can’t tell me that’s as strong of an emotion to feed off.”
The murmuring’s getting louder. Lance doesn’t know where Keith is going with this.
“I’m sure you can taste our emotions right now,” Keith continues. “Desperation. Lance’s anxiety, probably.” That earns a laugh. “Love,” Keith finishes. Many people in the audience lean forward. Lance can’t shake the feeling that they’re trying to get a taste.
“Instead of having Lance sacrifice his life, I propose something different. Let me sacrifice my love.”
Lance’s jaw drops. The crowd is cheering, and Lance feels cold inside. Objectively, it’s a better plan. It’s a way for Lance to not die. But he still feels sick at the thought of Keith sacrificing his love.
“I’ll admit, I’m intrigued,” the king says. “We’ve never had a sacrifice quite like this one before, and I’m willing to proceed with it.”
“Keith,” Lance says, weakly.
“I’m sorry,” Keith whispers, lowering the microphone. “It’s actually kind of selfish of me. I don’t think I could live with it, if you were the one to stop loving me.” He reaches out, and he slips the bracelet off Lance’s wrist. “For what it’s worth, I love you, Lance. And I know you’ll make me love you again.”
With that, he presses the button.
Visibly, nothing happens. Except the crowd goes absolutely feral. People are outright screaming in delight, and Keith stumbles as the emotion is ripped out of him. Lance catches him up against his side, and Keith straightens slowly. He looks at Lance and blushes before stepping away, and Lance’s heart breaks just a little bit more.
He wonders if dying would’ve been easier than this.
Lance is confident that ages pass before the crowd calms down, but later, Hunk will assure him that it was mere moments. The king looks crazed, but he thanks Keith profusely for his sacrifice. Raghir ends up grabbing him and Keith and leading them away. He almost looks drunk, his pupils dilated and his gaze hungry.
The team is beyond relieved. Lance is bounced around like a ping pong ball, from one pair of arms to another. All he wants is to talk to Keith, but Keith seems embarrassed to even be in his presence, and Lance doesn’t know what he would say to him.
Keith doesn’t love him anymore.
It seems like a small mercy that they aren’t invited to stay and celebrate with the Zhyrtites. They’re just escorted back to the Castle, and Allura takes off like they can’t get away from that planet fast enough.
The bridge is odd and silent. Lance feels mortified. Similar to when he first confessed his feelings to Keith, and Keith rejected him.
“We’re not totally in the clear,” Allura warns them. “We must keep an eye on Lance until midnight.”
“Agreed,” Lance says. He almost wants to laugh at the idea that he could still die, even after everything that’s happened. His eyes find Keith, who’s sitting at his station, staring down at his hands. He looks beyond confused, and Lance’s heart goes out for him. He can’t imagine what it must feel like, knowing that you felt something so strongly mere moments ago, only to be unable to find those feelings within yourself at all, anymore.
It’s the longest day of Lance’s life. Every moment seems to drag by at a snail’s pace. Never once is he alone, because no one wants to risk the fact that the number on his wrist still spells danger. Thankfully, he’s never left alone with Keith, which seems to be a relief for both of them.
Most of the day is spent in the rec room. No one speaks of Keith’s sacrifice, though Lance catches his friends staring at him a lot throughout the day, no doubt wondering what’s going on in his head. It’s like he’s reverted to the same Keith he was when they first got to space. All quiet and reserved and broody.
I know you’ll make me love you again, Keith had told him. Lance hopes he was right.
They’re all together when midnight approaches. The time is projected into the air as a hologram, and everyone’s looking between that and Lance’s and Keith’s wrists. They both have their arms turned upward on the table, their sleeves rolled back so everyone can see their numbers.
When the clock strikes midnight, Lance sees his number change for the last time. The 1 disappears, and he sees his wrist unadorned for the first time in thirty-one days.
Hunk is the first to react. He yells in excitement, and he grabs Lance around the waist and leaps up from the couch, spinning him through the air. Lance is screaming and laughing, and everyone’s shouting over each other. Even Keith seems relieved.
It takes a while for everyone to calm down. Hunk ends up bringing out a bunch of appetizers, and Shiro sets up this board game that he loves and everyone else tolerates, but for once, everyone actually enjoys it. At one point, Lance even catches Keith staring at him, and he winks. Keith quickly looks away, but Lance thinks he sees a tell-tale blush decorating his cheeks.
Everyone only goes off to bed once Allura accidentally falls asleep in an armchair. They decide to call it quits, and Hunk shakes her awake before everyone goes their separate ways. Lance receives several more hugs, and then he ends up following Keith down the hall, because after everything, their rooms are still right across from each other.
It’s been a while since Lance slept in his bed alone.
They get to their doors, and Lance clears his throat. “Goodnight,” he says, weirdly formal.
Keith shifts on his feet. Lance’s door slides open behind him, and he takes a step backward, standing in the doorway. When they first got to space, Keith was convinced that the doorways couldn’t sense them. He would always berate Lance for standing in them, telling him that one day the door was going to close on him and cut him in half.
“Lance,” Keith says suddenly.
“Keith,” Lance returns.
“Um. You were supposed to braid my hair tonight. Remember?”
Lance raises his eyebrows. “You still want to do that?” he says.
Keith’s arms are crossed. He looks distinctly uncomfortable, and his left heel is tapping against the floor. “I know how I used to feel,” he says in a rush. “And I know I — I liked the feeling, and I felt it strongly.” He’s blushing now, and he can’t even seem to make eye contact with Lance. “I just can’t remember exactly how it felt.”
“That’s okay,” Lance says softly. “I’m not going to pressure you to feel that way for me. And if you never feel like that again, that’s fine, too.” It’s really not, but Lance would never tell him that. Never tell him that his heart will be missing a Keith-shaped piece for as long as this lasts, because he loves him too much to tell him that. “You saved my life today, Keith.”
“I want to feel that way again,” Keith says. “And it’s not like I’m not attracted to you. I… think that’s obvious,” he says.
“Are you referencing our sex life?” Lance jokes.
Keith goes red. He clears his throat. “Um.”
Lance just rolls his eyes. He crosses the hallway, and he grabs Keith’s hand. “C’mon, Kogane. I’m going to tame that wild hair of yours.”
“It’s not wild,” Keith says. Lance ignores him. He just leads him into the bathroom, and he jumps onto the counter and has Keith stand between his legs, facing away from him.
Lance gets to work immediately, brushing Keith’s hair and then sectioning it off. It feels good to have Keith between his knees, close to his body. For the first time, some hope comes creeping back in.
“So,” Lance says conversationally. “You’re attracted to me.”
“Christ,” Keith says. “Are you going to be insufferable about this?”
“You love it,” Lance says. “Sorry, correction: you used to love it.”
Keith shrinks against him. “I’m sorry about this, by the way,” he mutters. “I can’t imagine how you feel.”
Lance scoffs. “I feel like the man I love did something incredibly noble to save my life, and I’d be an idiot not to be grateful. How do you feel about it?”
“Disoriented,” Keith admits. “Last night… I remember feeling so strongly about you. It feels like something’s missing, or like I’m broken. It doesn’t make sense how I can’t feel it anymore.”
Lance finishes the braid, and he snatches a hair tie off Keith’s counter in order to hold it in place. “You’re not broken,” he promises. “And I’ll be patient. We don’t need to rush things. We don’t even need to date, right now, if you need some time to process everything.”
Keith shakes his head. “I like you, Lance. Long before I loved you, I liked you. I guess I just feel… kind of giddy. And embarrassed. Why do I feel so embarrassed all the sudden?”
“Because crushes are embarrassing, and love makes you forget about how embarrassing they are,” Lance says. “And you, Keith Kogane, have a crush on me.” He grabs Keith’s waist and turns him around. The braid looks good from the front, too, thank God. And Keith’s face is pink, which is of course adorable on him.
“I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s okay,” Lance says, and Keith nods jerkily. Lance presses a peck to his lips, and Keith still seems flustered about it. Lance slides off the counter, his hands still on Keith’s hips, which he squeezes momentarily. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Okay,” Keith says. He’s staring at Lance with wide eyes. Lance wonders what he’s feeling right now.
Lance kisses him again, a little slower this time, a little longer, and then he pulls away. “Night,” he says, before slipping out of Keith’s room and into his own. The thought of sleeping next to Keith tonight is a weird one, and Lance isn’t sure he could handle it.
He lays in his bed for a long time, that night. Today was an absolute whirlwind, of fear and despair and relief. His mind’s too active for him to sleep, and he ends up grabbing a data pad, telling himself he’s going to do research or read articles or something.
He ends up going to the notes function, and he starts archiving the notes he made for his friends. They were emotional and heartfelt and sad, but he doesn’t have the heart to delete them. Plus, despite the fact that he no longer has a number on his wrist, they can never truly rule out the possibility of death. At least this way, if Lance ever goes (and, thank God, it will be totally unpredictable to him and the rest of the team) his letters to his friends will remain. A last goodbye from a different time.
He pauses at Keith’s letter. Automatically, he clicks on it, the way he had so many times before, in the moments when he’d tried to convince himself that he was going to be able to write something down.
And surprisingly, he sees words there. It makes his mouth go dry.
Lance,
Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop. Actually, I kind of did. But I know what you’re doing. And the next time you open this letter, you better read this and realize that if you write me a goodbye letter, I’m gonna stab you with my knife.
I already told you I’m not going to let you die without a fight. And I know you think I’m just in denial, but I’m serious, Lance. Somehow, someway, you’ve misinterpreted your prophecy. I don’t know how, but I’m going to make sure it’s true.
I’ve loved you for a long time. Long before you ever told me at that river. Long before we ever got our prophecies. I was so scared of mine because it said my love might fail to reach me, and I knew my love was you.
Lance, don’t write me a goodbye letter. Because I’ll never be able to say goodbye to you.
Somehow, Lance still couldn’t fall asleep after that.
--
It is, perhaps, the happiest breakfast Lance has experienced in a month. He’s never heard this group of people so goddamn chipper in the morning, but everyone’s talking and laughing despite the early hour.
And then, of course, it gets even better.
Pidge bursts into the dining room. “What day is it?!” they demand.
“Pidge!” Hunk yells. “You’re alive! What — how are you out of the pod already?”
Pidge doesn’t answer. “What day is it?! How many days are left?!” they look frantic, and they’re looking at Lance desperately. He holds up his wrist, number-free.
Pidge’s mouth drops open. “You figured it out?” they say, incredulous, and then they laugh, rushing forward to hug Lance. “Oh, thank God!”
“Actually, we figured nothing out,” Lance says casually.
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope! You should’ve seen Keith’s conspiracy board.”
Pidge just shakes their head. “You guys are just…”
“Tell us,” Keith says, eyeing Pidge intensely. “What did you figure out?”
“Can you control time?” Shiro interjects.
“What? No,” Pidge says impatiently.
“Dammit,” Hunk mutters.
“I realized that we interpreted the prophecies all wrong,” Pidge says. “Remember when we got that new prophecy? Together you’ll weather, but weaker, apart.”
“Yeah,” Lance says. “She wanted me and Keith to bone.”
“I am going to kill you,” Shiro says. Keith seems to share the sentiment.
“Okay, no,” Pidge says. “She was telling you that your prophecies were incomplete. You and Keith — your fates were intertwined. And so were your prophecies.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Hunk says.
“And you figured this out during battle how?” Allura adds.
“You know, it’s like when you’re showering,” Pidge shrugs. “Random ideas just come to you.”
“Not once have I ever had an idea during battle,” Lance declares. “Battle Lance is an enigma to me. He has zero thoughts.”
“Okay, I’m confused,” Shiro says. “How are their prophecies intertwined?”
And Pidge recites:
“Time is short, your love draws near.
That which you fear approaches but may fail to reach you.
Death knocks on your door; don’t open up for just anyone.”
Keith is gaping.
“That still makes no sense to me,” Lance decides.
“Basically, if Keith hadn’t fallen in love with you, you would’ve died. He probably made miniscule decisions that led to your survival in the end.”
“Oh yeah, real miniscule,” Lance jokes. Keith sinks down in his chair, looking mortified.
Pidge just frowns. “What? What did he do?”
“Oh, nothing much,” Lance says lightly. “He just offered his love for me to a bunch of emotion-eating aliens so I wouldn’t have to sacrifice my life.”
Pidge sinks down in a chair, looking exhausted. “You know what, I think I’m glad I sat this one out.”
“Thank God Keith loved him,” Hunk says, splaying his hands on the table. “Can you imagine if he hadn’t?”
Yes, Lance thinks slightly bitterly, catching Keith’s gaze across the table. He winks anyway. It’s just going to take some time, that’s all.
--
If you were to ask Lance about the most important battle of his life, he’d have to say it was the Battle of Texitreak.
Of course, many battles are important in the midst of the war. There are ones that literally turn the tide of the war, ones that save millions and prevent the Galra from gaining destructive weapons. There are battles that save entire galaxies, and battles that topple some of the Galra’s most important leaders.
There was the battle where Lance first kissed Keith, and the battle where he offered his life as a sacrifice, ensuring that Keith would eventually steal that sacrifice from him.
Even still, none of those battles are quite as important as this one.
It’s bloody and long. Allies from far and wide were called to help, and it’s probably one of the biggest battles they’ve ever endured. What started in the air, between lions and fighter jets, ends up on the ground. Thousands of people clash, fighting with swords and guns. People are rushed off the field constantly, shoved into the healing tent. The battle is deafening, and everyone is tired and injured. At some points, it feels like it might never end.
Despite this, Lance fights with vigor. He and Keith have cleared a circle around them. They have more room to maneuver than usual, their fighting so brutal that they’ve created a pocket for themselves in the crowd.
They’ve been fighting for hours, but neither of them have been grievously injured. There’s blood in Lance’s mouth and a cut on his arm, but he can barely feel it.
It’s been a while since he did a headcount. Lance turns on his comms, and soon enough, everyone else joins the channel.
“Headcount?” Lance says.
“I’m good,” says Hunk. One.
“Same here,” says Pidge. “Bastard,” they grunt at whoever they’re fighting. Two.
“Kicking ass, taking names,” Allura says, and Lance barks out a laugh. Yep, that’s three. And she learned that from him.
“All good up here!” Coran says, just as the Castle blasts a laser through the crowd. Four.
“Five,” Shiro says, obviously having been counting along with him, and Lance rolls his eyes fondly.
“Six,” Keith copies him, and Lance snorts.
“Thanks, guys,” he says, and he clicks off the comms, the battle already loud enough in his ears.
Moments later, Keith is calling out for him.
“Lance!” he shouts, and Lance spins around. Keith’s on the other side of the circle, and it’s immediately obvious what he sees. There’s a giant approaching. The Galra recruited them from this planet on the outreaches of the Solobux Galaxy. They’re more brawn than brains, but they’re still incredibly dangerous, especially when they’re equipped with guns.
Keith crouches, his hands laced together before him, and Lance starts running immediately. He jumps, his foot landing in Keith’s palms, and Keith stands up at the same time, launching Lance into the air.
He goes flying, and the world slows down for a second. The giant is in his sights. Its skin is thick, but its eyes are vulnerable, and that’s where Lance aims as he reaches the peak of his momentum. For just a moment, the world is completely still, the giant frozen in Lance’s crosshairs.
He shoots, the giant roars, and then he’s falling back through the air. Keith catches him, and he lands lightly, the battlefield shaking as the giant crashes to the ground.
Lance pretends to blow smoke out of his gun, completely ineffective since his visor’s down and blasters don’t even produce smoke, but Keith laughs. He’s still holding Lance’s waist where he caught him.
“I love you,” he says fondly, and Lance swears, the battle ceases around them. Everyone takes a time out, and it’s just him and Keith. Him, completely and utterly dumbstruck, and Keith, smiling at him with the brightest expression in the world, despite the cut on his cheek and the sweat plastering his hair to his face. Dude really needs to learn to fight with his visor down.
“Keith,” Lance says. Is all he can say.
“I do, I love you. I’ve being thinking it for a while, now. I just — I wanted to be sure.”
“Marry me,” Lance blurts.
Keith gapes at him, and Lance raises his blaster as someone comes running out of the crowd, right toward Keith’s back. The battle resumes, and they’re fighting harder than ever, infused with adrenaline.
“Yes,” Keith says. “Yes! Are you kidding?”
“Oh, yeah, total joke,” Lance says sarcastically. “I have no interest in actually marrying you.”
“Dick,” Keith says, but he’s laughing.
“Okay,” Lance says. “So, fiancés, then. We’re engaged.”
“Where’s my ring, McClain?”
“Funnily enough, I have one,” Lance says. “Stupid of me, not to bring it to battle.”
Keith’s laughing as he fights. He probably looks maniacal, but Lance knows better. He’s grinning too.
He turns his comms on, wincing at the influx of noise in his ears. Everyone else connects automatically.
“Everything okay, Lance?” Shiro asks. “Do you need another headcount?”
“Keith and I are getting married!” Lance shouts.
“Right now?” Pidge says sarcastically, but Lance can hear the grin in their voice.
“Oh my God,” Hunk says. “Am I best man? Lance? Tell me I’m best man!”
Lance just laughs. He’s in the midst of battle, something so terrifying and dangerous that his mother would surely cry just imagining it. But he feels invincible, and with Keith as his back, he practically is.
It’s funny. Not so long ago, Lance spent every day feeling like he was on the brink of death, already a ghost. And yet now, he’s never felt more alive.