Author's note
After proofreading this chapter, I decided to put a trigger warning for the following:
-Symptoms of PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder)
-Symptoms of Moderate Anxiety and Panic Attacks
If any of these things trigger you, please read cautiously. It's better to be safe than sorry. As Lance recovers from his attack, he temporarily deals with a stutter. So please be respectful, as I know lots of Wattpad readers give hate to characters who stutter. This chapter jumps between the 3rd POV and Keith + Lance's POV. Strongly recommend listening to the music above with headphones or a speaker for the best experience.
Bon Appétit
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Flashback, some time ago.
no.
No.
NO! KEITH!
"KEITH!?"
The only response he received was the rain pattering against his window. Any other time, Lance would've loved to open his window and smell the earthy dew that wafted through his room during a storm. Unfortunately, his mind would not let him rest. Frozen in fear, his eyes searched the vicinity of his bedroom. The saliva in his mouth thickened, leaving a dry, acrid aftertaste on his tongue. Tears rolled down his chin, leaving a salty aftertaste on his lips.
Was it only a dream?
Lance was trembling, seeing images of deep scarlet fluids dripping from his hands. The copper taste and sickening smell of flesh took over his senses. All his brain could comprehend was death. They were fighting galran rebels. A gun went off and... It felt so real. There was so much blood. And it all came from...
Keith.
A choked sob erupted deep from his core. Scrambling off his bed, he crouched on the floor, attempting to regain his sanity. He screwed his eyes shut, hiding his head in his knees.
It was just a dream. But it could happen. It is not real. It's not real. It is not real.
Just breathe. Just breathe. I'm fine. He's alive. I'm alive. He's dead. They're all dead.
I'm okay. Everything is fine. No it's not. I'm okay. I can't fucking breathe.
Keith is perfectly fine. But what if he isn't? You're not thinking straight. You're just too weak to protect him.
What if he's...
His lifeless frame flashed again before his eyes. Suddenly, he could picture him dying a thousand different ways. Lying dead in the middle of nowhere. Bleeding out somewhere and calling for help. Someone pulled the trigger, shooting him square through the chest. Going to sleep and never waking up again. His rapid heartbeat thrummed in his ears, following the burning sensation in his lungs. The agonizing pain in his head only amplified his distressing emotions. Feeling light-headed, He groveled to his phone and dialed for his emergency contact. He needed to know he was okay.
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falling, fallen
Fanfictionteam voltron's mission was complete after years of war and bloodshed the universe was saved from tyranical space leaders and genocidal maniacs, and peace was underway at last the cost? only the person who started it all. allura was gone, and she was...
