Chapter Text
Two years.
Two years since Allura’s statue was put up. Two years since the Lions had left them. Two years since the team had fully spread across the universe, with hardly any time for visits. Hunk and Shay had taken up on a food tour of sorts with the Blade, in an effort to post the culture of the people the Blade was still supporting. Pidge and Matt had split forces, Matt on Olkari and Pidge on Earth, both working on biotech to transition Earth - with all its human failures and strengths - to the universal peace that the dismantling of the Galra Empire brought about. Krolia and Acxa were working on Daibizal with the Galra council, having chosen a governing elected committee through tooth and nail. Shiro and Curtis were on Earth, working with the Garrison and the Holt siblings to reoutfit the Atlas for residential space travel. And Lance…
“Keith? Are you even listening?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, I heard you. We’re almost there.”
Romelle groaned, setting their ship down abruptly on a stretch of well-trimmed grass. “Not almost . Here.” She let the legs of the ship fully brace, before lowering the ramp. “Honestly, you’re lucky I was even headed this way, I only stopped by for some of that delicious ice cream you have here. I swear, no other planet has quite got it down.” The ramp hit the ground outside, and Keith got up, picking up his belongings as he made for the door.
“I’ll make it up to you, Romelle;” he said, darting down the ramp.
“You better! I’m leaving here in five quintants! That’s six of your Earth days!”
“I’ll contact you!” Keth couldn’t make out what she said in response, already dashing towards the house in the distance.
Keith could have asked Romelle to put them down closer to the house, but he figured that the surprise of his presence would contribute more to his mission here. After all, many ships had been landing at the McClain Intergalactic Residence since the war ended. The family initially stayed rooted on Earth in the years following the war, providing vital nutrition not just to the people of Earth, but nearby galaxies as well, as a consolidated effort from all farmlands on Earth. In the years following, however, some of the McClains expressed eagerness to travel, and the family decided to put some roots down in Altea.
He ran past the sign with the ‘McClain Farm Pick Yourself: Strawberries and Juniberries Half Off!!’, feeling a smile tug at his face at the sleek blue-and-white paint job. He passed rows of brambles and bushes, almost picked clean with the approaching end of Altean summer, and the ultimate end of the berry-picking season. On the far side of the field, he could see a parking lot, with hovers and spaceships on their way out of the farm as the day was drawing to a close.
The house was drawing closer with each stride, and he saw Rachel’s silhouette waving at him. Keith waved back, picking up speed for the final stretch towards the McClain house.
“Keith! I’m so glad you could make it!” She pulled him into a hug, which he gladly reciprocated.
“Hi, Rachel. Glad to see you’re doing well.”
Rachel laughed, releasing him and ushering him through the open door. “You know, you could have parked closer? There was no need for you to run all that way!” She made her way around the corner, and Keith set his stuff down where he usually did, by the door. His ears flicked at the sound of descending footsteps, and from around the corner, he was pounced on.
“You’re here, you’re here! See, Sylvio, I told you he would come today. You owe me a quarter!”
“Quarters don’t exist here, dummy! You’re so dense!”
Keith smiled at their squabbling. “Hello, Nadia. Hello, Sylvio. Glad to see you two getting along.”
“Getting along?”
“No way! Keith, Nadia said -”
In a moment, Rahcel was behind them, twisting their ears gently. “Keith just got here, you two. Let him breathe.”
Nadia and Sylvio let go of Keith’s clothes, stepping away and huffing, looking pointedly away from each other before looking back at him. “Sorry,” they said in unison.
It was refreshing to be back with the McClains. The Keith who was still a cadet at the Garrison would have likely balked at his fondness for the kids, but the Keith of today felt a sort of belonging, even though he was in no way, shape, or form related to this family. In the years following the war, the McClains had shown the paladins unwavering kindness, always keeping their doors open anytime one of them passed their way. Nadia and Sylvio in particular seemed to fill some kind of sibling-related hole that Keith did not even know he had, and he truly cherished seeing them grow up.
“Now, go help Papa with dinner. You only have a few more days with him before he switches with Mama.” Rachel let them go, and the two scrambled around to the kitchen. She turned to look at Keith, a small, yet sad, smile on her face. “Thank you for coming so quickly. Veronica and I have tried everything, but he seems to be worse.”
“Worse? How so?”
“He’s stopped eating, he’s stopped singing, he’s been wearing pajamas day-in and day-out,” Rachel said, her brow furrowing into a frown. “Keith, he’s barely showered.”
“What! Him ?” Keith felt his own brow scrunch with worry.
“Right?! It’s unlike him! He’s barely talked to Mama and Papa, and they’ve both been switching frequently to alternate keeping tabs on him. Honestly, he spends most of his time in the flower fields, just staring in the direction of Allura’s statue.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Hunk and Shay stopped by a few months ago, and Coran has been coming down weekly. He’s managed to strong-arm him into menial tasks, but there’s no enthusiasm, and Coran ends up sending him home. We really need your help.”
Keith sighed, making for the door. “Where is he now?”
“Out in the fields. Dinner will be in about an hour. I know there’s no miracle working with these things, but if you can get him inside by then, at the very least, we can count it as a step forward.”
“Got it.”
“And Keith?”
He turned around, catching Rachel with tears in her eyes.
“Please try your best. I can’t keep seeing him like this.”
Keith gave her a small, hopefully encouraging, smile. “I promise, I will.” And with that, he started running out the door.
The McClain flower fields were on the other side of the house, and as Keith made his way through the dark of dusk, he could feel his eyes adjusting to his night vision, colors fading out in favor of sharp contrasting silhouettes. He kept an even pace, passing by rows of various Earth and alien flowers, until his ears picked up a tune on the wind, at the far end of the field. Keith darted straight for the sound, jumping bushes as he got closer and closer.
When the tune was loud enough for human ears to pick up, he slowed down. His path put him in the direction of a large tree, resembling an Earth oak, but distinctly purple and blue. Its leaves glowed faintly, and he could see the lit figure of the man he was looking for, swaying slowly in its branches. His back was turned to Keith, but he could see the soft billow of his loose flannel, and the small juniberry flower he was holding in his hand. In the distance, Keith could see the now finished turrets of the new Castle of Lions, casting a faint glow on the statue of Allura that stood in front of it.
Porque eu vim de longe, eu vim do mеio do mar
No coração do oceano, eu tenho a vida intеira
O meu caminho eu faço a pensar em regressar
À minha casa é ilha, paz, Madeira
Keith was tempted to let him keep singing. The wistful, heartbreaking longing was palpable in his voice, a voice he knew held so much body and life in another time. It broke and cracked with the lyrics of the song, and left Keith with an aching in his own heart. But not for a place, but rather…
“I see you can still carry a tune, huh? I guess they don’t call you Loverboy Lance for nothing.”
The figure in the tree stilled, turning slowly to look at him. Blue eyes, once bright and deep, gazed at him dull and heavy. Bronze skin, once glowing with life, was grayed out and pale, clinging to his bones with weakness he had never seen before. And the worst was his hair. Once cropped fairly short, with a healthy bounce, it now fell past his shoulders, dry and tangled, the splits reflecting light from the tree he sat on.
“Keith?”
It was worse than Keith thought.
Several weeks ago, he got a communication from Veronica while he was on Daibizal. In her message, she was clearly holding back tears, pleading with Keith to visit Lance on Altea, as he had sunk into a deep, consuming depression. According to her, this descent was so slow and deliberately hidden by Lance, no one really noticed until he collapsed from exhaustion in the fields at the start of the summer season. Since then, he completely withdrew, barely getting out of bed and if he did, as Rachel said, spending most of it out in the remote parts of the flower field. Looking at him now, Keith felt his chest tighten. It was no secret that over the years in space, he had warmed up to the blue paladin, finding comfort and familiarity in his bubbly personality and over-the-top antics. Even following Allura’s death, he had been such a vital piece to holding everyone together, initiating get-togethers and traveling limitedly to give out care packages to the team. To see him so forlorn, it made Keith ache.
“I was in the area, I have to do some work with Coran and your sister.” A lie, but a necessary one if he was to anchor himself here under Lance’s sharp instinct.
Lance made his way down the tree, landing with a quiet thud before walking to him. His clothes seemed to drown him, his hair a curtain covering most of his face, but unable to hide the dull glow of the Altean marks on his cheeks. When he reached Keith, he offered a smile that looked painful. “I’m glad to see you, bud. It’s almost dinner time, and Papa is making arroz con pollo with some kind of Altean duck. Coran’s been trying to teach me some, but I swear it’s harder than Russian. You shouldn’t miss it.”
Deflecting already. Keith knew Lance enough by now to know when he was putting himself into an isolation spiral. In the months between his return to the team and the Castle blowing up, he had seen this self-depricating side of Lance, albeit sparingly and far less intense. At the time, he did not have the bandwidth to properly understand his behavior for what it was, but now it was clear as day. Lance was asking him to leave him alone.
“And miss out on a dinner with a friend? No chance. I can wait for as long as you’d like.”
He meant that more than Lance would know.
Lance looked at him with tired, calculating eyes, likely working out the best way to get him to leave, and Keith watched him decided that he was too stubborn for Lance to fight him (which was true), and that it would be quicker to just go with him instead of fight him (which was also true). With a huff, Lance pushed past him.
“Let’s go then.”
He kept going towards the house, and Keith did as Rachel said, and counted it as a win, catching up to his stride. They walked in silence, taking in the refreshingly cool breeze coming down from the Castle.
“That’s song was not in Spanish, was it?”
Lance looked at him, startled from his voice breaking their companionship. “How can you tell? As far as I know, you don’t know anything about Spanish.”
Keith felt himself grow a little warm, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I, uh, have been picking it up a little bit. Veronica visits frequently, and I’ve been around your family long enough to at least tell that it sounds different.”
Lance slowed his pace, looking at Keith with wide eyes, which only made him feel more embarrassed. They stood like that for a second, and Keith had to look away. He heard a quiet scoff, followed by a small laugh.
“Of course, a genius like you would pick up on languages easy as pie. Oh, predictable Keith.”
When Keith looked back at Lance, he had a more sincere smile on his face, his Altean marks glowing softly. It took everything for Keith not to stare, and he started walking again, careful not to go too fast so as to make Lance aware of how easily he was affecting him.
Lance caught up quickly, his energy a fair bit lighter than before. “It’s Portuguese. I’m not fluent by any means, but I had a lot of neighbors from Brazil while growing up.” He had a soft, nostalgic smile on his face. “Mama spent some time there as well, between me and Rachel, and really encouraged me to speak some with the neighborhood kids. I can understand it, but don’t even ask me to speak, I’ll sound like a child!”
Keith smiled. “Sounds like you are the real language genius here, Mr I-have’t-spoken-this-language-in-years-but-can-sing-it-perfectly.”
With an offended scoff, Lance smacked him softly on the shoulder. “Hey, making long nicknames is my thing!”
They bickered the rest of the way to the house, and by the time they reached, night had truly settled in, and Keith’s eyes had to readjust to the brightness of the house. As they approached, Keith could hear the comforting babble of conversation. “We’re back,” he said, ushering Lance in, who had fallen silent as they got closer to the house.
“Just in time! Come sit down, you two,” he heard Rachel’s voice call from the kitchen. He heard the scrape of a chair, and then quick, heavy footsteps, before Mr. McClain rounded the corner.
“Keith! I’m so glad you’re here, hijo !” He was swept up in a strong bear hug, an impressive feat considering only Hunk and Shiro could do that now, and he was several heads shorter than both of them.
“Hello, Mr. McClain. I’ve brought some scaultrite flour, Hunk said that you were interested in it.”
Mr.McClain set him down, beaming up at him. “I knew I could count on you. Come, come, let us eat.”
He turned, catching Lance’s eye, before stilling. He stood there for just a beat, before offering an uncertain, sad smile. “The table has been set for the both of you.” With that, he walked back to the kitchen.
Keith stood for a second, reaching out to grab Lance’s wrist as he tried to sneak away from behind him. They stood staring at each other, Keith keeping his confident smile on his face, and refusing to back down from Lance’s glower. “Let’s go eat.”
“I’m not too hungry, I think I’m just going to bed.”
“I heard your stomach growl earlier.”
“Doubtful, since that didn’t happen.”
“Mm, unlikely, considering that my ears can pick up a lot.”
“Ah yes, mister half-wolf alien. Curse your Galra ears.”
“So, come eat with us?”
“I actually forgot I have some food up in my room.”
“Are you sure? Arroz con pollo is one of your favorites, right?”
“ Yeah, I should totally eat that before I have anything new.”
“You? Eating in your bedroom?”
“Yes?”
“Well, considering how much of a clean freak you were when it came to your living quarters, I find it hard to believe.”
“Don’t presume to know things about me!”
Lance wrenched his wrist out of Keith’s hands. The pain and frustration that lay heavy in his voice startled him, and in the few seconds of him being shocked, Lance had made his way halfway up the stairs. Keith turned to look at him, eyes meeting with watery eyes that were swimming with too many emotions to name. The marks on his cheeks were tinged with something dark.
“Goodnight, Keith. I’ll see you in the morning.”
And with that, he scurried up the stairs, and Keith heard a door slam shut. Keith stood stunned in place for a minute, before sighing, and turning to go eat. Four faces were peering around the corner, two glistening with tears, and all sporting pitiful frowns. Keith let out a regulating breath, before putting on a small smile.
“I promised, right? I’m going to stay.” Nadia and Sylvio ran up to hug him. He knelt in front of them, bringing them into a hug. “It will take some time, but I promised I would help, yes?” He stroked their hair, looking up to see Rachel and Mr.McClain looking at him with gratefulness he didn’t feel he quite deserved yet. He picked up the two younger McClains, standing up straight. “Let’s eat, shall we? We have a long few months ahead of us.”