Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lance is like, one hundred percent sure something is going to go wrong today. 

He feels it in his chest, and he sees it in the way Pidge’s shoulders are hunched up close to her ears. She’s trying her hardest not to appear nervous, but she’s failing. Hunk’s right next to her, offering a comforting hand on her shoulder as she pilots Green, but his strained smile shows that he’s clearly worried, too. 

But Keith, who is currently standing right beside Lance, shows no signs of concern. He did at first, when they first boarded Green and went over the plan, but his expression had quickly cooled into a thoughtful one. Lance isn’t sure if it’s because Keith actually doesn’t feel worried, or if it’s because he’s trying to save face in front of Pidge. Either way, it does little to calm Lance down.

“Come sit with me. We should talk while we have a moment,” Keith says, gently bumping Lance’s shoulder. 

Pidge quickly nods in agreement. “Please do. All of you crowding around me is making me anxious.”

Hunk pouts. “Even me?”

Pidge takes a quiet moment to think before sighing. “No, you can stay. One nervous person is better than three.”

Hunk makes a disagreeable sound. “I’m not nervous. I’m… just weighing the consequences of our actions when we get back to the Castle. Do you think Shiro’ll ground us?”

Pidge makes a scoffing sound, and Keith takes this opportunity to drag Lance away. He doesn’t have much room, since the cockpit isn’t that big, but it’s clear that whatever he wants to talk about is important, since he seems edgy about Pidge and Hunk being able to hear them. Keith drags Lance to the back of the cockpit and gestures for both of them to sit down on the floor. 

“What’s up?” Lance asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

Keith simply raises his eyebrows at him, unimpressed. “Really?”

Lance sighs. “Look, I know we have a lot of things to talk about, but—”

“We do,” Keith interrupts, nodding seriously. “Which is why I’m leaving our topic of conversation up to you.” He crosses his arms. “We can talk about anything you want, but you have to be the one to start the conversation.”

Lance gives him a questionable look. “How generous of you,” He says, trying to keep any sarcasm at bay, but clearly failing, judging from Keith’s frown.

Keith brings a hand up to massage his temples. “Look, I know things have gotten weird lately, and that’s partly my fault. I’ll take responsibility for that.”

Lance shakes his head. “That’s not—”

“Let’s be honest here,” Keith says, giving Lance a stern look, but there’s also something soft in his eyes. “Me telling you that I was thinking about leaving has made things so awkward between us.”

Lance can’t argue with that, because Keith’s right. “Yeah, I guess it has,” He says, sounding a little hesitant. Keith’s eyes seem to soften even more at his honesty, and Lance feels his face get warm. 

“I never meant for that,” Keith says after a moment of silence. “To be honest, I don’t even know what I was thinking when I brought it up. I wasn’t even sure about it.”

“It’s fine,” Lance says, and he means it. “When something like that pops up in your mind, it’s normal to want to talk it through.”

“That’s just it, though,” Keith says, suddenly looking displeased with himself. “I wasn’t really trying to talk it through. I was just asking if you thought it would be okay if I left. We never really went into details.”

Lance raises an eyebrow. This conversation is veering into territory he wasn’t expecting. 

 Make sure he stays on his previously chosen path. If he changes his mind, there is no guarantee he will make it out of this war alive.

How should he go about this? Should he be encouraging? Should he try reverse psychology? Should he try to be mean? 

No, Keith would see through all of those. 

Lance will just have to be authentic. Well, as authentic as he can be without revealing too much.

“Well, if you left, you would have to call every day,” Lance says, and Keith’s eyes widen, clearly not expecting that.

“What?”

“I’m serious, you gotta keep us updated,” Lance continues. “And if you couldn’t call, then you’d have to send a text or something, just so we know you’re okay.”

Keith frowns. “I hate texting.”

“If you just called, then you wouldn’t have to,” Lance points out, and Keith weighs that in his mind, though he’s obviously confused on the path this conversation is taking. 

“Okay,” He says, sounding unsure.

“And you could try to come back to visit us, like, at least once a month,” Lance goes on. “Hunk would definitely cook for you, and we could even have a movie night.”

“Look, I appreciate what you’re saying, but you’re still talking like—”

“I’m saying if, not when, there’s a difference,” Lance says matter-of-factly. 

“Okay,” Keith says. “Anything else?” 

“Those were just the important things I had to say. Anything else is negotiable,” Lance says, and Keith actually lets out a small laugh at this. 

“You sure?” Keith asks, and while there’s a smile on his face, he also seems serious in a way that Lance can’t understand.

Lance supposes there is one more. 

“Yeah,” Lance says after a moment of thought. “If you do decide to leave, don’t go without telling us first.”

Keith blinks. “Of course I’d tell you. When have I ever—” He pauses, realization quickly dawning on him. “Oh. Yeah, okay, I deserved that.”

“I’m not saying that to hurt you or make you feel bad,” Lance rushes to reassure. “I did the first time around, and I felt awful. I’m just saying not to leave us in the dark this time.”

Keith nods agreeingly. “Gotcha. Yeah, if it comes to that, I’ll definitely tell you.”

“Good,” Lance says, crossing his arms in satisfaction. “Any questions, comments, concerns?”

Keith twists his lips in a way that looks like he’s trying to hide a smile. “Very funny. I do have one, though.”

Lance motions for him to speak. “What?”

“Do I have to be the first one to reach out?”

Lance thinks about it. “No, but we’ll have to establish some kind of time frame. Like, if we don’t hear from you for a certain amount of time, we’ll come looking for you.”

Keith looks caught off guard. “You’d come looking for me?”

“Duh. You’re not gonna get rid of us that easily.”

Keith smiles then, genuine and soft in a way that has Lance’s heart fluttering. Then he has to silently tell himself and his heart to knock that shit off, because Keith could hear it.

“Same for you,” Keith says. “If I don’t hear from you guys, I’ll come back to look for you, too. Judging from your track record, it’s probably for the best.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance asks, raising an eyebrow.

Keith motions to the bandages on his face. “Like literally everybody else has said over the past few months, your luck is horrible. Chances are, I’d leave and you would get kidnapped, like,  fifteen minutes later.”

Lance rolls his eyes, but can’t find it in himself to disagree, because yeah, that does sound like something that would happen. “Fair point.”

It’s comfortably quiet for the next few minutes, besides the sound of Pidge and Hunk’s quiet chatter coming from the front of the cockpit. It sounds like a lot of technical jargon, so Lance feels he can’t be bothered to join the conversation. He probably wouldn’t be welcomed, anyway.

“So…” Keith says, and Lance looks over expectantly. 

“What is it?”

“Do you mind if we talk about yesterday?” Keith asks, and Lance bites the inside of his cheek. 

“What about yesterday?” Lance can’t stop himself from saying. He shouldn’t feign ignorance about this; he was doing so well. 

Keith doesn’t seem to take this personally, though. “Well, for starters, you walked away during a conversation, which is something you rarely, if ever, do.”

Lance internally winces because he still hasn’t figured out how to explain that. That isn’t what he remembered happening at all, but thanks to the lady he met yesterday, Keith remembers something completely different. 

“I am sorry for that,” Lance says, trying his best to sound genuine about actions that he didn’t even do. “I guess I was frustrated about a lot of things, and I wanted to walk away before I said something I didn’t mean.”

Keith stares at him for a second. He looks split, like he wants to believe Lance’s words, but can’t. “What other things are you frustrated about?” He asks, attempting to veer the conversation in a way that Lance greatly prefers. 

“Do you really want me to list off all the things that have happened in the past few weeks? It’s a pretty long list, and I’m not quite sure how much time we have,” Lance says, trying to force some humor in his voice, but it comes off more strained instead. Fuck, he used to be better at this. 

“No, that’s okay,” Keith answers, trying his own hand at looking amused, but his smile looks stiff. “I can make a pretty good guess.”

The silence, this time, is extremely uncomfortable, and Lance feels bad for ruining it. But, there’s been one question lingering on his mind for a little while now, and while he can assume Keith may not want to talk about it, he feels compelled to ask. 

“I’ve already ruined the vibe at this point, so I’ll just be straight-up,” Lance says, and Keith looks over at him, eyes full of confusion. “Do you remember anything that happened on Puig?”

As Keith processes the question, his eyes slowly fill with understanding. “Bits and pieces,” He says. “And you didn’t ruin the vibe. I was the one who started it. I asked a question I knew would probably have an uncertain answer.”

Lance shakes his head. “That’s not your fault, either. It’s me, really. It’s my own thing.”

Keith looks put off by this. “You can’t blame yourself for every little thing. I don’t understand why you always try to do that.”

“There are a lot of things that we don’t understand,” Lance says. “One day, that’ll change. It just might be a way off.” Damn. In his attempt to be vague, he came off sounding like he was high instead. 

Keith scrunches his nose. “Why do you talk like that?”

Lance almost feels offended. “Like what?”

“Like some kind of ominous fortune teller or something,” Keith says. “You got something you want to tell me?”

A lot of things, Lance thinks. It’s the perfect opening, too. It would be so easy to just tell Keith the truth about everything. And, if he got his memories back, he might be more willing to leave for the Blade, resulting in his safety being assured instead of uncertain. 

That is not guaranteed. You should not make such rash decisions because you feel it is best. You must know it is best.

Lance doesn’t recognize this voice in his head as Red’s. In fact, it sounds strangely similar to the lady he met yesterday. Great, he has multiple voices in his head now. If he ever gets a therapist, and that’s a strong if, they’re going to have an absolute field day with him. 

“Trust me,” Lance says to Keith, finally finding his voice. “If I were a fortune teller, you would know. And I would have far fewer scars to show for it.”

Keith grimaces. “Good point.”

Lance smiles uncomfortably. “Anyway. What parts of Puig do you remember? If you’re comfortable sharing?”

Keith hums thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t remember anything from before I got caught. Or how, really. But I do remember quite a bit of what happened after.”

Lance raises his eyebrows.

“They started by questioning me,” Keith says, looking pensive. “The questions they asked were fine at first, nothing too bad, but then…” He frowns. “They started getting weird. I don’t know, it was like a switch had flipped or something, but all of a sudden, they got a lot more aggressive.”

Lance tilts his head. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Keith nods. “My first impression of them was that they were new and had no idea what they were doing. But then, they just snapped. And not just at me, they snapped at each other. They started arguing, but for some reason, none of the words they were saying made sense.” He sounds confused. “It was like they were completely different people.”

Lance doesn’t like that at all.

“So,” Keith says, averting his eyes. “I tried to make out what they were saying, because it all sounded like complete nonsense to me. And then I heard them talk about turning Hunk over to Lotor while they kept me around for experiments. And, well, I couldn’t let that happen.”

“Hunk said you started getting smart with them,” Lance recalls. “He didn’t know why. To him, it came out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Keith says, looking over in Hunk’s direction. “I just wanted to keep him safe. He’s a strong guy, but I don’t want to know what would’ve happened to him if Lotor got hold of him. So, I turned their attention to me. The woman didn’t seem to like the situation, so she just left the room before the guy started in on me.”

Something about Keith’s retelling doesn’t make sense. If the generals were thinking of only turning one of them over to Lotor, then that would mean they were still working against Lotor instead of with him, like Kolivan had said. 

Either Lotor wasn’t keeping as close an eye on them as he said he would, or he was just waiting for them to screw up so he could have a reason to get rid of them. But, without knowing what Lotor’s current plan is, Lance can’t even guess why Lotor would want such sketchy, unreliable people working for him. 

Unless…

No, Lance would’ve noticed if the generals still had their memories of the previous timeline, right? And if not him, then surely Kolivan would’ve noticed?

He just can’t understand Lotor’s motive. 

“What is it?” Keith asks, sounding alarmed. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Something about the generals doesn’t make sense,” Lance points out, and Keith’s eyes widen in realization. 

“Right,” Keith says. “Kolivan said that they were supposed to be working for Lotor. So why would they still be trying to go behind his back?”

“And especially when Lotor’s supposed to be keeping an eye on them,” Lance adds. “Why would they even risk it?”

“Maybe they’re working for someone else?” Keith suggests, and the more Lance thinks about it, the more it makes sense. 

They could be double agents for Haggar. 

She did it before with Kuron. She could easily do it again this time, though; instead of using a clone, she could be using people Lotor wouldn’t ever bat an eye at. 

But Lotor isn’t dumb, as much as Lance hates to admit. He would’ve surely thought about that possibility, right?

Lance wishes he knew more about all of this. He’s being left with more questions than answers, and that isn’t going to be very helpful in the future if he has no idea what he’s doing. 

“But who?” Lance mutters, because he’s probably not supposed to know the answer right now. Honestly, he still doesn’t know the answer, but he can’t deny any possibility.

Keith looks at him for a moment and narrows his eyes when Lance turns his head to look at him. 

“What?”

Keith makes a small hmm sound, like he just figured something out. But there’s a strange sense of disappointment in his eyes that leaves Lance feeling a bit guilty.

Oh. Keith knows that he’s lying to him. 

That’s…Lance doesn’t know what to say. Or do. Telling Keith the truth would only bring more confusion, which is the last thing the team needs right now. He wishes he could convey that to Keith, but in a way, that also feels like a little bit of a lie. 

“That other general that you and Pidge ran into, the one that gave me the flash drive,” Keith says after a moment of silence. His tone sounds a little tense. “Do you think they could be working under the same person?”

If Ezor really remembers the last timeline, then Lance would be kind of pissed if she did. “I hope not,” He answers, because he doesn’t know for sure. He would like to have more faith in her, but he also barely knows her, and his initial impression of her from the previous timeline isn’t doing any wonders. 

“Okay,” Keith says, and his tone this time sounds final, like he heard something in Lance’s voice that he didn’t like. “Then, who is she working for? Because it sounds like no one on Lotor’s team is completely reliable.”

“That’s an advantage for us,” Lance says.

Keith shakes his head. “Not if they’re working for the same person.”

Lance considers this and finds that he can’t find any words to disagree. At least, not any that would make sense; they wouldn’t make sense to Keith, and they almost certainly don’t make sense to himself, either.

“You’re right,” Lance relents. “I guess it’s just easier to look at the best-case scenario.”

“If you can even call it that,” Keith mutters. “It doesn’t seem like anything about this situation is inherently good or bad. Just confusing.” He sighs and leans his head back against the wall. “Nothing about any of this makes sense.”

Lance stays quiet, trying to gather his thoughts. Should he tell Keith his thoughts, regardless of the fact that they may not make sense? Or should he keep them to himself, and only let Shiro and Coran know, since they’re the ones that remember?

“You got something you want to say?” Keith asks pointedly, and Lance frowns. 

“I don’t know,” He answers. “The possibilities I’m thinking about might not make sense. I need to think about it some more, or I’ll end up confusing you.”

Keith lets out a small, breathless laugh at this. “I’m already confused. What’s one more thing to add to the pile?”

That settles it, then. 

“First,” Lance starts. “Who do you think those generals were working for? We have an idea that they’re not completely loyal to Lotor, so who’s their actual boss?”

Keith shakes his head. “That’s the thing; I don’t know. That’s literally why I’m asking you.”

Lance sighs, trying not to feel frustrated. It’s not Keith’s fault; he knows that. He needs to be careful and tread lightly here. It’ll be even more difficult to explain if he gives the wrong information. 

“Just go with me for a second,” Lance says. “Take a wild guess. Out of anyone in the universe. Do you think it could be one of our allies? Or do you think it could be someone from within the Empire itself?”

Keith pauses for a second. “You think it’s someone from the Empire? Why?”

Lance just crosses his arms and waits for Keith to answer his question. He raises an eyebrow when Keith is silent for a moment too long. 

Keith rolls his eyes but thinks about it, his expression slowly turning thoughtful as more time passes. “If it were someone from the Empire,” Keith says slowly. “They’d be more likely to fly under Lotor’s radar.”

Lance nods, staying quiet.

“And if they wanted to keep me for experiments, that means they’d likely be someone higher up,” Keith says, eyes lighting up with realization. “Zarkon’s been M.I.A since our last battle with him, but what about his witch?”

Lance is pleasantly surprised that Keith reached that conclusion so quickly; in fact, he almost reached it a little too quickly. But he supposes he shouldn’t be too surprised. “That’s what I was thinking, too. Kolivan has mentioned before that she’s heavily involved with Operation Tenyo. She’d be the prime suspect.”

“But why go behind Lotor’s back?” Keith asks, sounding truly baffled. “Aren’t they on the same side?”

“She might not like how he’s running things, so she’s micromanaging,” Lance suggests, shrugging. 

“Maybe,” Keith starts. “She’s behind that small resistance group that Kolivan talked about. All of them would have eyes on Lotor, which means that she would know everything he’s doing.”

That certainly makes more sense. Damn, she’s becoming a real helicopter mom. Lance almost says this out loud, but the joke wouldn’t make sense, so he stays quiet. 

“But, from what I could’ve guessed about that guy, I would’ve thought he’d see this coming,” Lance says, feeling doubtful. Would Lotor have seen it coming, though? He’s smart, Lance will give him that, but he also shouldn’t have any access to his past memories. Unless something similar happened the first time around, Lotor would, hypothetically, have no idea what’s going on.

“He could be feeding them false information,” Keith points out, and Lance can’t argue with that. “Letting the witch see what he wants her to see while he does his own thing behind the scenes.”

That does sound a lot more in line with what Lotor would do. But still, what is Lotor’s goal here? And that other day with Allura, when he was chasing her, was that an act, or was he still genuinely trying to capture her? And if he did succeed in capturing her, what would he have done?

“So,” Lance says after a moment. “Do you think that the general who gave you the flash drive is working for her? Because her actions would be a little contradictory if that were the case."

“I don’t think so,” Keith shakes his head. “She must have her own agenda.” He looks over at Lance. “Did she say anything to you about why she helped us?”

Lance thinks back to that day. “She said she made a promise to a friend, and that she didn’t plan on breaking it. Whatever that means.”

Keith is quiet for a moment, his eyebrows scrunched together. “There was something I forgot to mention, but I think it might be related to this,” He says slowly. “It happened a while ago, and I didn’t think it was a big deal at the time, but it might actually be important.”

Lance tilts his head expectantly, waiting for Keith to elaborate. 

“Back before the big battle, when Hunk and I had to go into the belly of a weblum to get scaultrite…” Keith trails off, looking conflicted. “We met someone there. It was another soldier, one who was dressed in the same uniform as the general who gave me the flash drive.”

Lance nods once because that does sound familiar. Had Keith really neglected to tell him that in this timeline? He supposes he’s not surprised by this; a lot of stuff was happening by that point, so Lance could see how that would’ve slipped Keith’s mind, among other things.

“Did anything happen?” Lance asks.

Keith sighs. “Whoever they were, they never said a word the entire time we were in there. I don’t know, we had each other’s backs, for the most part, anyway. Then, when we finally got the scaultrite, they pointed a gun at me while they took their own bag. Then they left.”

“And you don’t think it was the same person as the one who gave the flash drive?”

“No,” Keith says, shaking his head. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I have a feeling it wasn’t.”

Lance can’t argue with gut feelings. So, if he cuts out Ezor, then that means the person in the weblum was likely Axca. And if that’s the case, then what did Axca do with the scaultrite? He feels like he should know the answer to this, but for some reason, his mind can’t come up with an answer.

“What do you think they did with the scaultrite?” Lance questions, but he doubts Keith would know the answer.

“If they’re connected to Lotor, then it could be a variety of things,” Keith reasons. “They could’ve modified their ships, their weapons, or they could’ve done something completely different. Something we wouldn’t see coming.”

Lance feels like he should know this. Should he know this? Was he even told about this in the previous timeline? He has the distinct feeling he was, but maybe he wasn’t. Why does it sound so familiar, then? Is he simply just—

“Hey, guys? We’re getting close,” Pidge announces, interrupting his train of thought. He and Keith exchange looks before standing up and making their way over to her and Hunk. The planet they’re heading to, Ugrion, is visible and slowly inching closer. 

“So, what’s the plan when we get down there?” Keith asks.

Pidge makes a thoughtful noise. “Simple: meet with the arms dealer. From what his instructions said, his place is a bit out of the way, but we should still be able to find it. The problem is that we need to be subtle about it, and our uniforms will make us stand out.”

“Yeah,” Hunk says, considering. “Four paladins of Voltron checking out this shady place is bound to draw more attention than we need. What should we do?”

“We’re going to have to wear disguises, aren’t we?” Lance asks, unimpressed, because he really can’t see any other option. 

Pidge gives him a mischievous grin. “You read my mind,” She says, a knowing tone in her voice. 

Lance feels a cold sweat go down the back of his neck. There’s no way she knows, right? She’s just being a smart-ass, isn’t she?

She looks back towards the front and carefully parks Green on the outskirts of what looks to be a shopping district. “Hunk, look in the cabinet over there,” She instructs, pointing towards the back of the cockpit. “I have some cloaks in there we can use.”

“Cloaks?” Keith repeats. “We’re gonna look like we’re in a cult or something.”

“Psh,” Pidge says, waving dismissively. “That kind of thing’s probably normal here. In a place like this, being a paladin of Voltron is arguably the worst of the two options.”

Lance feels lame. 

Yes, he knows that he’s technically dressed like this for the greater good, but still. The cloak Pidge got for him is two sizes too big, which means the front of the hood keeps falling into his face, and he has to work extra hard not to trip over the slack from the cape. 

But, like Pidge mentioned before, no one seems to bat an eye at them as they walk through the city. He doesn't know why he doubted her; she's already been through this once. But, the truth of the matter is that he can't seem to look past the fact that she shouldn't remember. So, unless Pidge's gut feelings have taken a more drastic turn for accuracy, Lance can't ignore the fact that she might be remembering.

And for some reason, that worries him.

He's not worried that she'll say anything she shouldn't, nor is he worried about her figuring out the whole situation. No, what he's worried about is the conversation that usually comes afterward. Because, from experience alone, those conversations almost always have something horrible happen after them.

"We're here," Pidge announces, stopping in front of a shady-looking building. She peels back her hood just the tiniest bit so she can look at everyone. "I'll take the lead on this. Don't do or say anything unless I tell you to, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hunk agrees easily, saluting.

Keith gives a silent nod, though he can't seem to hide his own look of concern.

"You got it," Lance says.

Pidge turns back towards the building and walks in, slowing her pace slightly so the rest of them can follow. She's reasonably nervous, that much Lance can tell, but there's something about the way she's walking that suggests she's also on the lookout.

What is she on the lookout for? Did something happen here last time?

She stops at the end of a hallway, holding her arm out. "Wait here," She mutters. "He might run if he sees a lot of us."

Keith opens his mouth to argue against this, but Pidge walks away before he can even get a word out.

"Keith, she's got it," Lance says and hugs the wall so he can listen to the impending conversation.

"I know," Keith whispers, mimicking his position. "I just get worried, that's all."

"Shop's closed," A gruff voice announces, and Lance assumes it's the arms dealer speaking.

"I'm just looking for directions to a show. I heard it's explosive," Pidge says, emphasizing the last word.

The arms dealer makes a knowing noise. "So, you're the one looking for the nano-thermite titanium-boron? Very expensive. Difficult to procure, I assure you."

"Keep it."

"You're backing out of our agreement?" The dealer's anger is barely restrained.

"Actually," Pidge starts. "I'm altering it, in your favor."

The sounds of Pidge's in-suit system echo across the room. "I'll still give you the money, but, in return, you tell me who is in this video and where to find them."

"Why would I know those people?" The dealer asks, not sounding very convincing.

Sheesh. Lance thought he was a bad liar.

"Because they used nano-thermite titanium-boron, and you're the only one in this section of the galaxy that seems to be selling it," Pidge answers, not sounding impressed.

"I've had some good luck selling things of value." There's a sound of a chair creaking. "And I think the Galra would pay a lot to know how you got your hands on that security footage." The sound of blades being drawn from their sheaths rings out.

Lance summons his bayard but keeps himself behind the wall. Pidge did this all by herself last time; he won't intervene unless she asks for it.

"Should we—" Hunk starts, but Lance shakes his head.

"Wait for her signal," He says.

"Really?" Pidge says, though she doesn't sound surprised. "This is how we're doing it? All I want is the information."

Lance peeks around the corner and watches as the arms dealer leaps onto the table, swords drawn above his head. Pidge draws her foot back and kicks the table away, causing the dealer to fall on his ass. He stands up, readying himself to fight again, but then hesitates.

Pidge takes one step forward. "Wanna keep going?"

He drops his weapons, holding his hands up. "Okay, okay," He says. "You got me."

“That was easier than I thought,” Pidge says, raising an eyebrow. She takes another step forward. “Now, the intel?”

The dealer sighs and turns around, rummaging through all the materials on top of his desk. After a few seconds of silence, he produces a flash drive. “Here,” He says, handing it over. “This is all the info I have on that group you’re looking for. Now, please, just leave.” He motions with his hand to leave, and Pidge quietly obliges.

She walks around the corner while the others follow.

Once they leave the building, Pidge starts combing through all the info on the flash drive. Lance watches cautiously, sensing her anxiety. She’s coiled up like a spring, almost like she’s waiting for something to pop out of the shadows. Lance casts a quick look around. He doesn’t blame her. The atmosphere of this place doesn’t exactly scream safe and welcoming.

“Any luck?” Keith asks, not able to conceal his own anxiousness.

“Well,” Pidge says, after a moment of thought. “If all this info is true, then it means…” She trails off as she goes through it again. “It means he could be here. On Ugrion.” She sounds surprised, like this wasn’t what she was expecting. 

Lance’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Pidge says, nodding. Her expression is still tight, though. Contained. Almost like she doesn’t want to get her hopes up. “There are a few places here that he could be. It might be easier if we split up.”

“Split up?” Hunk repeats, sounding very unsure. “I don’t want to do that. We should stick together. This place is sketchy as hell.”

“How many places do we need to check out?” Lance asks. “Are there a lot?”

“No, it’s just three places,” Pidge says. “One’s a bar, then there’s a store just down the street from that, and then finally there’s a jail a block over.”

“Why would your brother be in jail?” Keith asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“He escaped from a Galra prison,” Pidge points out. “Why wouldn’t he be in jail?”

“So, what’s the plan here?” Hunk asks, crossing his arms. “Are we splitting up or are we sticking together?”

“Okay,” Lance says after some thought. Splitting up might not be the best choice, but they’ll have to manage. “I’ll take the bar, ask around, see if he’s been there recently. Keith can take the store, and once we’re both done, we can each meet both you and Hunk down at the jail. Does that sound good?”

There’s a moment of silence. “What?” Lance says impatiently.

“Nothing,” Keith says after a moment. There’s a strange look on his face. “That sounds good. Let’s try to get this over with, shall we?”

There are numerous sounds of agreement, and then they separate. 

Pidge sends the address of the bar Lance needs to investigate almost immediately, and he heads over. He gets a lot of weird looks, but luckily, nobody tries to stop him. When he enters the building, he quickly notices just how empty the place is. Besides the bartender and one other guy sitting at the bar, there’s virtually nobody. 

“Can I help you?” The bartender asks gruffly, and when Lance steps up to the counter, he puts on his best smile. 

“I hope so,” He says. “I was looking for Matthew Holt. I heard he comes around this place pretty often.”

“Who’s asking?” The bartender questions, sizing him up. Sensing the defensive posture, Lance needs to choose his next words carefully. 

“A friend of his sister’s,” Lance answers. “She’s been looking for him for a while, and she’s worried sick.”

The bartender narrows his eyes at him. He opens his mouth to speak before the doors to the bar slam open. Lance looks over and raises an eyebrow. 

It’s a Galran soldier… but he looks drunk. He’s gripping tightly onto a bottle in his hand, and he’s pointing haphazardly at the bartender, who looks almost too shocked to speak. 

“You!” The soldier slurs, stomping over. He throws the bottle down and grabs the bartender by the collar. “I want more!” 

The bartender tries to pull away, but the drunk seems to have a pretty tough hold on him. He sends a helpless look in Lance’s direction, and Lance sighs. He should’ve figured this wouldn’t be easy. 

“Alright, buddy,” Lance says, patting the drunk’s arm. “That’s enough.”

The drunk’s grip doesn’t loosen; in fact, it only gets tighter, and Lance huffs. He grabs onto the drunk’s arm and yanks. Hard. “I said, that’s enough!”

The drunk soldier stumbles back and falls flat on his ass. “W—What?” He stutters, and he looks around. When his eyes lock onto Lance, he growls. “I know you,” He says accusingly, getting up from the floor. He stands up straighter now, and Lance mentally curses because he's a lot taller than he looked a few moments ago. 

“Do you?” Lance asks, stalling. 

“Yeah,” The soldier confirms. “You’re the one who killed my boss. You know, you caused a lot of trouble by doing that.”

Lance stops for a second. “What?”

“Commander Sendak,” The soldier says, and Lance almost wants to roll his eyes. “He was my boss, and you killed him.”

“Yeah, well,” Lance says, not really able to come up with a good excuse, other than, “He started it.”

The soldier fumes. “I’m gonna break your neck!”

Lance curses and narrowly dodges the chair that the soldier throws his way. Distantly, he hears the bartender yelling, and the bystander laughing, but all his eyes are focused on is the raging soldier in front of him. 

Okay, he’s been in fist fights before, but they all happened when he was in middle school. If he’s going to win this, or at least get out of it alive, he’s probably going to have to fight dirty, like he did with the bounty hunter from the day before. 

Fuck, he really needs to train in this kind of thing more. 

So, not really seeing another option, Lance grabs the stool the bystander was sitting on and brings it up over his head. It weighs around forty pounds, so it should leave a pretty decent goose egg if Lance manages to land a hit. 

He swings, and surprisingly, the soldier manages to brace his arms to block. The soldier’s legs are bent, so Lance won’t be able to pull the same trick as yesterday. He’s leaving his torso exposed, Lance notes. He grips the stool in his hands even tighter. He has an idea, but it could go pretty badly if he doesn’t execute it right. 

Well, no time to think about it. 

Lance pretends to swing again, but just as the soldier braces for impact, he lets the stool drop from his hands. He bends his legs and jumps towards the soldier, his arms wrapping around his middle as he tackles him to the floor. He raises his fist, at first, just to threaten. 

But when he looks at the soldier’s face, all he sees is Sendak. Smirking at him. And he lets the punch land. 

And another. And another. 

Another. Another. Another. Another. 

An—

“Stop!” The bartender yells, gripping his shoulder tightly. “You got him.”

Lance blinks, and when he looks down, he doesn’t see Sendak anymore. He just sees a broken, bloody, and bruised soldier who’s just staring up at him with contempt. Lance goes to say something, to apologize, but the soldier coughs, and blood splatters on Lance’s face. 

He gets up quickly and watches mutely as the soldier gets carried out by the bystander from before, who, to his credit, is no longer laughing. 

“You said you were looking for Matthew Holt,” The bartender says, taking his hand off of Lance’s shoulder.

Lance looks over and nods once, his mind beginning to go numb at what he’s just done. How had he let himself lose it like that? He’s supposed to be better than this, not worse.

“Last I heard, the bounty hunters around here were talking about finally taking him in,” The bartender informs, looking unsure. “That was a few days ago, so who knows if they actually got him or not. If they did, I assume he’ll be in jail.” The bartender clears his throat and pulls a rag out of his apron. “You should probably clean yourself up. I appreciate your help, but please, don’t ever come back.”

He hands the rag to Lance and goes back to his place behind the counter. 

Lance decides to leave the bar through the back door, wiping at his face with a roughness he deserves. He tastes blood in his mouth, his hand hurts, and his jaw feels sore. Did the soldier he was fighting manage to get a few hits on him? If so, he doesn’t remember. It’s all a blur. 

Hell, he’s become such a mess. 

A part of him wants to reconvene with Keith first before he heads over, but ultimately, he decides against it. The minute Keith sees him, he’ll know something is wrong, and he wants to avoid that conversation for as long as possible. 

He makes it to the jail and notices the bright colors of Pidge and Hunk’s paladin suits almost immediately. That puts him on high alert, because why the hell did they take their cloaks off? They’re standing out like a sore thumb, right at the gated entrance of the jail. He tugs his own cloak tighter around him and goes closer. He feels his heart stop when he realizes what he’s seeing. 

Someone, one of the guards maybe, is pointing a gun at Pidge, who’s seemingly pointing her bayard at another guard on the ground. Hunk is holding his arm, clearly injured. Lance curses. 

He’ll have to sneak around. 

Lance rushes around to the side of the jail to avoid being spotted. He hugs the wall, gripping his own bayard tightly as he makes his way to where he’s behind the guard. He’ll have to keep his cool. He can’t spazz out again like he just did in the bar. He has to breathe.

Slowly, slowly, he walks up behind the guard. He tugs his own cloak off, since they’re clearly not hiding their identities anymore. “I said, put your weapon down!” The guard commands, and when Pidge looks over, her eyes catch on Lance, and her expression slightly brightens. 

“No,” Lance says, pressing his bayard into the guard’s back. “You put your weapon down.”

The guard instantly drops his weapon and holds his hands up in surrender. 

“Where’s Matthew Holt?” Lance asks, and the guard swallows. 

“He’s in jail,” The guard answers. 

“Well,” Lance says, casting a worried glance in Hunk’s direction. Pidge rushes over to patch Hunk’s arm. “How about you and me go see about letting him out?”

“What?” The guard says. “They’re not just gonna let him go.”

“What if I threaten to kill you if they don’t?” Lance threatens, pressing his rifle deeper into the guard’s back. The words had slipped out so easily, but it was only an empty threat. He doesn’t actually plan to kill anyone today. He doesn’t want to. But this guard doesn’t know that. And, judging from the surprised looks on his friends’ faces, it seems they don’t know that, either. 

He really is a mess. 

“They’re not going to let him go for me,” The guard pleads, but Lance turns him around anyway, ready to lead him to the prison doors. 

“We’ll see about that,” Lance says, already resigning himself to keeping this guard alive. This guy clearly is just a person who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, so Lance won’t take it out on him. But he does need to save Matt, because Pidge deserves that much, especially after everything that’s happened. 

So, he makes the guard walk in front of him, his rifle pressed into his back as they make their way to the front of the prison. There’s a surprising lack of security, but Lance takes this as a good thing, rather than a bad thing. He has a feeling that the guards here are simply inexperienced, not calculated people waiting to lead him into a trap. 

Having only two guards at the gate entrance was his first clue, and as he walks farther in, the guard in front of him only seems to grow more anxious. 

“Do your coworkers like you?” Lance asks because the silence is leaving him feeling a bit on edge. It isn’t the best question to ask, but he can’t think of anything else appropriate to say.

“I bring them coffee in the mornings,” The guard answers, his voice shaky. “So I hope so.”

Let’s hope so, indeed, Lance thinks grimly. “So this should be no problem, then,” He says, keeping his own voice flat. 

Then, Lance hears footsteps coming up from behind him, and he stiffens, tightening his grip on his bayard. 

“Lance,” He hears Keith’s voice say. “Pidge said you probably needed backup.” It's quiet for a moment as Keith takes in the sight in front of him. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Lance answers, relaxing just the tiniest bit. “Everything’s fine. We’re just gonna do a little exchange. Should go pretty smoothly.”

Keith comes to stand beside him, his expression full of confusion. “Exchange? So Matt is in prison?”

“No, I’m just holding this guy hostage for shock value,” Lance snarks. “ Yes, Matt’s in prison. Did Pidge not tell you?”

“No,” Keith says, his voice tinged with attitude now. “I was too worried about other things, like Hunk being shot in the arm, or you being M.I.A.”

“As riveting as this conversation is,” The guard cuts in suddenly. “Can we please just get this over with? My shift was over a few minutes ago.”

“Fine by me,” Lance says, and starts walking again, not caring if Keith follows. He’s back to being pissy again, though this time, it’s for reasons he can’t ascertain. He’s come to terms with the possibility of Keith leaving, so it shouldn’t be that. So, what is his reasoning?

Either way, it may be for the better. 

They finally make it to the prison entrance, and it’s then that Lance sees that the rest of the guards are congregating by the doors. The guard Lance is holding hostage clears his throat, and when the others look up, they immediately drop their guns. “What do you want?” One of them asks, holding his hands up. He actually looks rattled. 

“Matthew Holt,” Lance answers flatly. “Let him go, and this guy’s all yours.”

His flat tone seems to be taken seriously, and half of the guards rush into the building. Lance hopes it’s simply to bring Matt out, and not to get reinforcements. 

Pidge didn’t go through this last time, or if she did, it went way differently. She could’ve probably snuck in, considering it was just her. Or, if she was desperate, she could’ve rigged explosives to bust Matt out. But Lance doubts Matt was even in this predicament in the previous timeline. This whole event has only lasted a couple of hours. 

A minute passes, and then suddenly, the guards exit with Matt in tow. He’s in a prisoner outfit similar to the one they first found Shiro in when he crash-landed on Earth, with shackles to boot on both his feet and hands. His hair looks disheveled, and he has a few scars lingering over his face. He looks confused at the sight of Lance. 

Lance can understand why. They haven’t met each other yet in this timeline. But then Matt’s eyes drift over to Keith, and they brighten with familiarity. “Keith? Is that really you?”

“Yeah,” Keith answers. “We heard you got yourself into some trouble.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Matt answers easily, but then winces as the guard who brought him out pushes him forward. 

“We gave you what you wanted,” He says gruffly. “Now release our guy.”

Lance pushes him forward, as requested, but keeps his gun trained on him as he walks forward, back to his frightened but welcoming coworkers. Matt joins them, looking a bit rattled. “Can we please get out of here?”

“Sure, we got a surprise for you back at the gate entrance,” Keith replies. Lance begins to walk backwards as Keith helps Matt, keeping his eyes on the guards. The last thing he wants to happen is for them to get shot in the back, so he continues to do this until they’re out of sight. 

Matt sighs, stopping. “I can’t keep walking like this. I’m gonna trip or something.”

“Spread your feet,” Lance says. “I’ll shoot your shackles off.”

Matt complies, and he makes a sound of relief when the chain snaps. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t mention it. Let’s keep moving.”

 Lance lets them walk in front of him, sparing a look over his shoulder every now and then, waiting for a rogue guard to come after them. But thankfully, they don’t, and they manage to reach the gate entrance with ease.

Pidge is still tending to Hunk, and it’s then that Lance allows himself to feel bad for not even asking about him earlier. Hunk had gotten hurt and had left him in the care of Pidge, who probably doesn’t know the first thing about first aid. But, judging from the bandages wrapped tightly around his arm, she knew enough. 

Lance puts his bayard away and makes a beeline for Hunk, silently cutting in front of Keith and Matt. Hunk smiles at the sight of him, causing him to feel even more guilty. Pidge’s back is turned away from him, but she startles when she hears Lance’s footsteps. She turns and looks up at him, clearly confused. “Where’s…?”

He nods his head in Matt’s direction, and when she sees him, all the tension in her body seems to disappear. She bounces up in a second and rushes towards Matt, her momentum knocking her brother to the ground as they embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” Lance says to Hunk quietly. Hunk just shakes his head. 

“It’s fine,” He excuses, but Lance disagrees. 

“It’s not,” He says, and then gently touches Hunk’s arm, examining the bandaged wound. “How’d it even happen?”

Hunk gestures to a guard who’s knocked unconscious just a few feet away from them. “That guy was a little too trigger-happy. You know, the kind who think to shoot first, ask questions later .”

“He just shot you?” Lance asks, dismayed. 

“Well, Pidge may have riled him up a bit, but still, I don’t think that was a good excuse to try and shoot her.”

“And you jumped in front of her,” Lance says, and Hunk nods. 

“Yeah. Luckily, he only got my arm. Pidge reacted fast and tased the guy. But then the other one pointed his gun at her… and then you showed up.”

“I’m glad you both are okay,” Lance tells him, and Hunk’s smile returns. 

“Me too. And I’m glad her brother’s okay, too,” Hunk says, his eyes drifting to the happy scene happening before them. 

Pidge and Matt are still hugging, with Pidge talking so fast that Lance can’t make out what she’s saying. But Matt, who’s laughing, can understand her, and that’s what really matters.

“Lance,” Hunk says now, drawing his attention. He sounds cautious. “You didn’t hurt the guy, did you?”

The question punches Lance in the gut. Hunk really thought he was going to harm the guy he held hostage. What kind of person is he becoming that his own childhood friend can’t seem to recognize or understand him anymore? Or is he just becoming more difficult to read?

“No, I didn’t hurt him,” Lance answers honestly, and Hunk seems to relax. That gesture, too, seems to hurt Lance, but he tries his best to hide this. He’s trying to see things from Hunk’s point of view. After everything he’s done, he probably wouldn’t trust himself, either.

“Good. That’s good,” Hunk says, and then tilts his head a bit as he examines Lance more closely. “What happened to your face?”

“What do you mean?” Lance asks, because while his jaw does still feel sore, he hasn’t looked in a mirror lately, so he doesn’t have a clue as to what his face looks like. He assumes it looks pretty bad, what with there being bandages still covering his cuts from the day before. He can’t imagine what the drunk has done to his face. 

“You have a pretty gnarly bruise along your jaw,” Hunk tells him. “Like someone punched you.”

“Oh, that’s no big deal,” Lance excuses. “Honestly, I can’t even remember how I got it.”

“That’s even more worrying,” Hunk says, his eyebrows furrowing now. 

“We have more pressing matters,” Lance urges. “Like getting back to the Castle. I don’t think Allura or Shiro are going to be too pleased about us running off in the middle of the night with one of the Lions.”

That seems to successfully distract Hunk, because his eyes widen. “We’re totally getting grounded when we get back.”

Lance stands up, then offers a hand to Hunk. Hunk gratefully takes it, though he winces as he stands up, his injured arm shifting uncomfortably. “ We’re getting grounded; you’re getting put into a healing pod,” Lance corrects. 

Hunk grumbles under his breath. “It’s not that bad.”

“I know,” Lance says. “But we all worry about each other. And, if you want to think about things logically, you won’t be able to use your bayard with your arm like that. So, either way, you’re probably gonna end up in the pod.”

Hunk sighs, but doesn’t argue. 

The walk to the Green Lion is silent, except for Pidge and Matt mumbling to each other. Keith is in the front, leading the way, while Lance and Hunk are in the back, and the sibling duo stays in the middle. 

“What’s up with Keith?” Hunk asks, confused. 

“I got snarky with him earlier,” Lance confesses. “And I didn’t apologize.”

“Y’know, I’m starting to think you do this on purpose,” Hunk says, giving Lance an odd look. “It’s like you’re trying to sabotage your chances with him.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Lance retorts, but as the words come out of his mouth, he finds that they aren’t true. That is what he’s doing, isn’t it? Trying to sabotage whatever friendship he has with Keith, so that he can leave with nothing to hold him back. 

“You so are,” Hunk says back. “But it clearly isn’t working, man. Either because you can’t stay mad at him, or he can’t stay mad at you. Your anger doesn’t feel genuine. It feels fabricated, like you’re trying too hard.”

Lance winces. Is that really how he comes off? He sounds insufferable.

“So, what’s your deal?” Hunk questions. “Because there are times where you guys are good, and then, in the blink of an eye, you’re pissed off at each other, for seemingly no good reason.”

“It’s complicated,” Lance answers, knowing that Hunk is rolling his eyes at his response. “It involves stuff that I can’t talk about.”

“Why not?” Hunk asks.

“Because if I told you, you’d think I was crazy,” Lance responds. The thought of letting Hunk remember the last timeline has crossed his mind a few times. But he thinks it would be better to wait until they’re back on Earth. After the worst of the war is over, surely. “I’ll tell you about it someday, but right now, it would only just confuse the hell out of you.”

Hunk stares at him for a moment, his eyes softening the tiniest bit as he hears the truth in Lance’s words. “Promise you’ll tell me about it? Whenever you’re ready?”

“I promise,” Lance says, nodding. And he means it. He had entertained the thought of keeping all of those past memories to himself, but found that wouldn’t be fair to his friends. No, they’d want to know everything. So, he will tell them. Just not now. Definitely not now. Not when things seem to change so easily in this timeline. 

His main goal is to keep as many people as he can alive. Especially his friends. Allura is the main one, considering her death was just so astronomically unfair. Everything else that happens… he’d rather not think about it.

Hunk seems to take this response for what it is and turns back to look at Pidge and Matt, a smile starting to form. “I’m glad they’re together again,” He says, then frowns, as if he’s just remembered something. “But we still gotta look for her dad.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Lance says, hoping above all else that his fate hasn’t changed, too.

They make it to the Green Lion, and Matt watches in awe as Pidge gets in the piloting seat. She starts directing him on how to fly the Lion, and then, eventually, begins to recount her story about how she found Green. Matt listens quietly, though his expression says that he’s hanging on to every word. 

Lance and Hunk sit on one side of the cockpit, while Keith sits on the other, arms crossed as he pointedly stares away from Lance. 

He isn’t actually mad, Lance can see. Keith’s hurt because he must’ve thought they were past this. And Lance thought they were, too. But maybe they shouldn’t. Maybe Lance should just let this fester until Keith gets so fed up that he runs away to the Blade so that he doesn’t have to deal with it. 

Lance knows how this is supposed to go. So, why does he keep trying to fix things? That strange lady back on Yoeinian told him that Keith’s fate would stay unchanged if he were to leave. If he were to change his mind, there would be no guarantee he would make it out of this alive. 

So, this time, he won’t talk. He won’t try to sort things out, he won’t apologize. He’ll just… 

The more he thinks about it, the more he doubts he’ll be able to pull it off. He needs to tell Coran or Shiro about this. Maybe one of them would know what to do. If he told Coran, the other man would likely give him some sage advice that would make everything make sense. If he told Shiro, it’d likely be a lot easier to get Keith to leave for the Blade. 

But then he thinks about whether his plan backfires. Coran would likely think telling Keith the truth would be the smart thing to do. Shiro, probably the same. In fact, he’d likely make it harder for Keith to leave so the two of them could talk it out. 

There’s one other person on the Castleship who knows about the previous timeline, who would probably stay unbiased. Lance had forgotten about him until recently, but thinks now, after everything that’s happened, he should begrudgingly pay him a visit. 

That’s right. Slav.

He hasn’t talked to him since right before the last battle with Zarkon. Many of the conversations he had with him left Lance feeling a bit unnerved, but he never followed up on them. Slav was a bit of a wild card; Lance isn’t exactly sure of what he should expect from him. It could be advice, or it could be insults. 

Either way, he’d (probably) stay mostly unbiased and tell Lance how he should proceed. His calculations would be a pain to listen to, but they’d be accurate, and Lance needs to rely on accuracy for right now. He can’t rely on instincts or feelings anymore. It obviously never works out in his favor. 

He really needs to try and move on from this, doesn’t he? He’s been telling himself this for a while. It won’t end well, so why bother? He shouldn’t care whether Keith cares for him or not. He should just focus on keeping everyone alive. Even if people end up hating him in the process, it’ll all be worth it. 

So, as they near the Castle, and when Lance feels Keith’s eyes on him, he keeps his own firmly trained on the cockpit floor. It won’t be easy pushing Keith away; he knows that much. But Keith should get the message eventually, right?

Lance feels like such an asshole, and he is for thinking this will actually work. But what other choice does he have? Should he just let Keith die? No. 

Not an option. 

Allura, Shiro, and Coran are already waiting in the hangar when everyone deboards Green. Allura is standing with her arms crossed, foot tapping against the floor. Shiro has his hands on his hips, looking disappointed but not surprised. And Coran just looks relieved to see everyone alive and well. 

All in all, the reactions are more tame than Lance was expecting.

Shiro pulls Matt into a tight hug, and after seeing this, Allura’s own frustrated facade seems to drop almost immediately. “I am glad you found him,” She says to Pidge.

Pidge grins back at her. “Me too.”

The conversations that ensue all start to muddle together, leaving Lance feeling a bit dazed. He smiles lightly as Pidge formally introduces him to Matt, says a quick goodnight, and offers to walk Hunk to the healing pod so he can get out of this room. Hunk graciously agrees and bids everyone a quick goodnight as well before following after Lance.

“You okay?” Hunk asks. 

“Yeah,” Lance answers, even though his head is still a mess. He feels dizzy, and the hot and cold sensation in his head feels too similar to that feeling when he was switching over from Blue to Red. “How’s your arm?”

“It still hurts, but not too badly,” Hunk says, shrugging. “I’ll probably only be in the pod for an hour, maybe two.”

“That’s good to hear,” Lance says, and sighs in relief once they make it to the infirmary. He opens the pod for Hunk and sets it up so his friend can enter. “You want me to wait for you out here?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Hunk says, waving dismissively as he switches into a pod suit. “You should get some rest, bud. You don’t look too hot, no offense.”

“None taken,” Lance says lightly, and watches quietly as Hunk enters the pod. He receives one more kind look from his friend before his eyes close, and slowly, he enters the healing stasis. 

Lance debates staying there anyway, just because he knows what it’s like to wake up and see absolutely nobody there waiting for him. But Hunk told him it was fine, and everyone else is here, which means Coran is likely to check up on him. 

He’ll be fine. Lance probably should be heading to bed. Instead, he finds himself still hesitating. If he goes to his room immediately, Keith would likely be there waiting for him. This wouldn’t inherently be a bad thing at first glance, but then this would lead to a big conversation that would leave Lance feeling emotionally drained and vulnerable, with Keith being right there to help hold him together. 

Lance can’t always rely on Keith, especially not now. Not when he’s fated to leave within the next few days…weeks…months? Lance can’t even keep track of time anymore. That’s how far out of bounds he is. 

He sits down at the table in the infirmary and contemplates what his next move should be. Sleep sounds awfully tempting right now, which is odd, considering he’s had a rather bad case of insomnia the past few months. But he’ll just take this as his body being way too exhausted to argue with him anymore. 

He brings a hand up to touch his jaw and grits his teeth. The bruise feels pretty gnarly, indeed. But the rest of his cuts, which were carefully bandaged by Keith, are still covered. And his hand. The one he used to punch the drunk in the bar. He doubts that it’ll look any good. Lance pulls his glove off and sighs. Sore, bloody knuckles were pretty much what he was expecting, but he was still hoping he was wrong. 

Lance slides the glove back on and stands up, ready to get back to his room so he can sleep. He slips out of the infirmary and quickly, but quietly, makes his way down the hallway to his door. He had only been in there for a few minutes, so it’s likely that the others are still in the hangar chatting away. When he sees no one outside his door, he’s filled with such a strange sense of relief that he starts to feel guilty. 

Better for Keith to ignore him than for it to be the other way around. This never would’ve happened if he hadn’t let Keith into his room earlier. Keith just would’ve stayed mad, and then maybe neither of them would be feeling this way. 

He enters his room, takes a quick glance around, and then locks it behind him. He doesn’t know how long he’s going to sleep for, but he has a feeling it’s going to be for a while. Lance begins to strip his armor off, not really caring whether he damages it or not. He can always get a new suit made.

Finally, he enters the bathroom, takes one look in the mirror, and instinctively flinches. 

Hunk was right. He does not look too hot. 

The bruise on his jaw is a deep, deep purple that threatens to extend out along the rest of his face. How could he not remember getting socked in the face so hard? There’s blood starting to soak through one of his bandages, and as he reluctantly takes it off, he notes that the wound has reopened. 

He cleans it up as best as he can, silently missing Keith’s gentle fingers from just a few hours prior. 

The blood takes a while to stop, but when it does, Lance feels a dizziness start to take hold of him again. He braces himself against the sink counter, blinking rapidly as he tries to gain his bearings. 

He takes the quickest shower he can, just to wash off any blood or grime, and exits the bathroom without another look in the mirror. He dresses in the comfiest clothes he can find, and, without further thought, collapses into his bed so he can sleep.

For the first time in years, the dream Lance has is a pleasant one.

At least, that’s what he thinks. 

There’s a warm, hazy filter over the scene before him that leaves him feeling calm and at ease. It’s a nice change of pace, considering everything that’s happened. 

He’s on a beach of some sort, though it’s not like the one on Yoeinian. It reminds him more of a beach back on Earth. The blue sky is full of fluffy, white clouds, the sun is bright and beams down on him, and the sand he’s sitting on is soft. 

He looks around, watching quietly as the waves crash over each other. Lance sees a few people in the distance, but he can’t quite make them out from where he’s sitting. He moves to get up, but finds he can’t move from his spot in the sand. 

Lance squints his eyes now, trying to place their silhouettes. He feels like he should know these people, but he can’t think of their names. Instead, he studies them. 

One of them is making a sand castle. Another is playing in the waves, splashing two other people who seem to be laughing, while two other people cheer them on from the sidelines. This is a memory of Lance’s; he knows it. So why can’t he place it?

Something flutters near him, drawing his attention away from these people. He watches on as a bright blue butterfly flaps its wings near him, and Lance remembers what butterflies usually symbolize.

Transformation. Change. Rebirth.

He holds his hand out and stays as still as he can when the butterfly perches itself on a finger. Is this a warning of some kind? 

The butterfly flaps its wings in response, but doesn’t leave his finger. Lance takes this as a yes. 

But what could this kind of warning mean? 

“Lance!” 

The voice is echoey, and Lance takes this to be another memory. He remembers hearing another person call out for him like this before, but he can’t place who it is. Perhaps he was too far gone by that time. 

It’s a woman’s voice, that much he can tell. He tries to recall the conversation that happened after this. 

“You saved me.”

“I owed you one.”

Ah, that’s it. 

The conversation that happened right after he died and was brought back to life. The warning seems to be somehow related to that, right?

The butterfly flutters again, and Lance takes this as another yes. 

He isn’t sure what to think now. He isn’t sure what this means. Or what he can do about it. According to that strange lady from before, he’s died before, and she’s brought him back. And judging from what he knows of Allura, she’ll train enough with her magic to be strong enough to bring him back if the time calls for it. 

Lance blinks, and the butterfly floats away, leaving him with more questions than answers. 

Truly, one of the strangest dreams he’s ever had.