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Summary
“Fuck off Summers.” It surprises Scott how tired and hollow Lance sounds. Slowly and softly, Scott sits across from Lance. “I said fuck off Summers, I’m not in the mood to fight,” Lance says, his voice sounding void of his usual fight.
“Okay then, let’s not fight.” Lance snorts at that, when have they ever not fought when together? Scott decides to continue. “Why aren’t you with the rest of the Brotherhood? Don’t you all usually spend lunch together?” Lance still doesn’t look up.
Or Scott finds Lance alone during lunch, worried he’s planning a Brotherhood plot Scott tries to question him. Instead they bond.
