hey there pretty boy (klance)

CHAPTER 10

Shiro is quick to notice that his brother is on edge, but he doesn't press it, instead choosing to tiptoe around the situation and let Keith handle it himself. Keith is relieved. It's not like Shiro will actually understand, anyways.

He retreats to bed early that night, heart still aching with the rejection. After Keith had placed his trust in Lance, he hadn't been expecting for it to end so quickly, and without warning. The entire situation is made worse by the constant image in the back of his mind, of Lance's distressed blue eyes as if letting go of Keith is the most heart-wrenching thing he's ever done.

For hours, he rolls over and over in the bed, trying not to think about having Lance lying beside him, about the boy's warm body and gentle hands and plump lips. He falls asleep with his hands curled into the sheets as if it was Lance's shirt and clinging for all he's worth.

An overcast sky and soft rainfall has been twisted into a fierce thunderstorm sometime during the time in which Keith slept. He wakes up in a cold sweat, with the last fading pieces of a nightmare thrashing around in his head. Lightning illuminates the room and he buries his face in the pillow, stifling the urge to cry out.

Keith nearly trips as he climbs out of bed, stumbling his way into the hallway and towards Shiro's room. His head is spinning. Is he going to vomit? It feels like it. Shit, he hopes he won't vomit. Or pass out. He's feeling strangely light-headed and has lean on the wall to balance himself.

There is a flash that seems to go on longer than normal, followed by a crack of thunder that shakes the building. Keith does cry out this time, hands grabbing blindly at his ears and the panic is so overwhelming that he thinks it might actually kill him. "Shiro!" He yells, closing his eyes tight. His brother will hear him. He will, and then he'll come running and Keith will be okay.

When there is no one rushing to comfort him, Keith is forced to gather himself and stagger the last few steps to Shiro's room. He fumbles with the doorknob, head no longer tipsy but filled with a splitting pain that Keith doesn't remember normally experiencing during his episodes. In fact, all of this seems unusually extreme.

Keith practically falls into the bedroom, pausing with uncertainty when he finds the bed empty. Shiro's not sleeping. If he's not sleeping, he should have heard Keith yelling for him. He should have noticed the storm and already been prepared to deal with an episode.

Chewing his lip to the point where it starts to bleed, Keith shuffles back to his own room. The shakiness is starting to subside almost faster than it first struck him. He digs around in the bed until he finds his phone.

to: shiro where are you???

After a drawn out period of no response, he tries again.

to: shiro shiro

to: shiro answer me please?

Keith notices a muffled buzzing from the other room. He runs to the kitchen, mumbling, "no no no," as he spots Shiro's phone on the counter, lit up with Keith's messages. "No!" He rakes his fingers through his hair. This is not his brother. Something is wrong. Seriously wrong. Keith looks around, desperate, and bolts for the door.

He nearly loses his balance on Red more than once, pedals occasionally spinning out of control as he rides. His legs are aching. Dressed in only a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, the rain beats down on him mercilessly. The storm still howls around him. Keith hardly notices. He just focuses on going faster, getting there sooner. The bike is thrown aside and Keith launches himself over the guardrail. He slides on wet sand as he sprints for the ocean.

Keith doesn't stop at the water's edge. Every bone in his body screams for him to abort mission, but Keith splashes into the tide without slowing down. He runs until he's up to his knees and stumbling and still continues to wade deeper.

"Lance!" He screams, voice being torn to shreds by the wind. It whips Keith's hair around his face. "Lance, please!"

Maybe it's too late. The god has already abandoned him.

Keith, with the ocean heaving at his hips, loses his balance and topples forward. The salt burns his throat and eyes as his head goes under and he gulps in, taken by surprise. Shaken by the current, Keith manages to find his feet and coughs out the water. His hair hangs limply on his head, dripping down his face. Each waves smacks him hard.

Still wheezing, he screams, "Lance!"

He forgets that he can't swim, or maybe it doesn't matter either way. By now the waves are almost over his head. Keith presses forward and then suddenly there is someone wrapping their arms around his torso, pulling him back. He thrashes, efforts dulled by the water dragging his limbs. A mouthful sends him spluttering again.

Once his feet strike ground, Keith kicks out and stumbles through the last stretch of water onto the shore. He can't stop shivering and the nausea is back at full force, keeling him over on the sand as he coughs and retches uselessly.

Finally it's over. He has no more energy, collapsing onto his side in the sand and starting to sob. Somebody hunches over him, covering his body with theirs. Their whisper tickles his ear, a distant 'you're safe'.

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Somehow Keith made it back to the apartment, onto the couch, under a thick blanket. The storm has died out to a cold downpour. His throat is raw. Hair is brushed away from his forehead by a cautious hand. The touch is fleeting, and Keith automatically leans towards it.

He remembers. His eyes snap open, a name on his lips.

"Shiro?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," says Not-Shiro, from where they sit on the couch beside Keith. He props himself up on his elbows and takes in Lance's face, once flawless and now strained with worry.

"You came-"

"Of course I did," he murmurs, taking the words from Keith's mouth, "I couldn't leave you like that. Not now."

"My brother..."

Lance nods. He rubs Keith's arm with cold fingers, and Keith is unnerved by the god's watery gaze. "I'll get him back, Keith, I promise. I will see this through."

Keith feels drained. Leaning back on the couch, he stares dumbly at the ceiling and tries to make sense. Shiro is gone. Lance came back for him.

"I knew he was here. I could feel it," the boy closes his blue eyes, "you were so scared. I'm sorry."

"Who?"

When Lance opens his eyes and faces Keith, they are stony cold. "Lotor. God of nightmares and bad things."