langst.

chapter three - marks

"lance?" he whispered.
inside the cold room, he could see lance mcclain sprawled out in the middle of his floor, surrounded in a pool of his own blood. he looked pale, and the life was drained out of the peppy cuban.
lance wasnt lance.
this, version of him, was dead.
absolutely and utterly dead.
and keith broke.
his knees buckled as he fell to the floor in a sobbing heap.
he was comforted by lances cries, in a way, because it meant lance was still alive. now, it was an eerie silent in the room. the only noises that could be heard was keiths broken sniffles.

pidge's pov
where the hell was keith?
ooh, i bet they were making out!
"guys, ten bucks on a makeout session between the two gays." i smiled.
"you mean guys?" shiro cocked his head.
"nope."
"youre on," said hunk.
as everyone snuck to lances door, i could hear keith...crying?

i swung the door open.

and i was met with with keith cradling a pale and bloodied lance.

"keith? lance!" hunk screamed.

everything was blurry.

hunk's pov
no, no no no.
he said he got better.
he got better.
the first time i saw him like this, i panicked and passed out.
lance told me to not worry, everyday after that. he said he was better.
and i believed him
he was my best friend
i thought i knew him
and now, years later, i saw him at the lowest in his seventeen years.
"we need to get him help," i choked out.
everyone, in the same daze, snapped back to reality and carried him to the healing pods.
coran scrambled ahead to set it up.
keith didnt move.
pidge was sobbing.
shiro and allura carried him.
and i
i stopped.

- a week later -

keith's pov
its been a week, and we are all broken without lance.

shiro and allura stopped talking as much, and would just embrace each other for support.

pidge wouldnt come out of their room, hours of their day on the computer.

hunk would stress bake, yet never eat. his sleeping was close to nothing, and he practically never stepped foot out of the kitchen. his bloodshot eyes conveyed so much hurt for his best friend. he was like a broken record, repeating himself and muttering nothings under his breath.

and i spiraled down a hole. i started cutting, making little lines in my arms and legs, wearing my red jacket to hide.
i stopped eating.
all i could do is cry and train; and i told myself i wouldnt cry.
so i trained. i trained and trained and trained.
i was overworked, i admit.
the bags under my eyes were dark.
but i couldnt stop.

then, in a far room, we heard a thud.

it was lance!

everyone heard the noise, so we all sprinted to the room. hunk was crying, and pidge's legs barely worked. but we sprinted to our blue paladin.
"LANCE!"  hunk screamed.
we all ran to him and tackled him in a hug.
after a heart churning reunion with our beloved teammate, we made a deal to always keep an eye on him. to watch him. to make sure hes safe. to care.

a/n
hey, its oliver. yes, frequent updates. im bored and sad, so perfect mood to write some langst. was it okay? if you like it, please vote and/or comment! maybe ill make an epilouge to show lances progress?  let me know!