Marked For Death | klangst

Thirty.

The next few days were amongst the most painful in Keith's life. He just laid in his room, curled up in his bed, the blanket draped around his shoulders, staring at the wall. He couldn't bring himself to see the others, to talk to them. They reminded him of everything he'd lost. If he spoke to Hunk, he'd see his other half missing, his best friend. In Pidge, he would see her creative outlet and confidant disappear. In Allura, he would see another Paladin lost to the evil the lurks in the far reaches of the universe. In Coran, he would see a son lost, ripped away, torn from life too soon. In Shiro, he would see another student, his other protege missing from the world and all the worlds he had left to explore. And if he looked at himself, he would see everything. He would see the shadow of Lance's smile, the ghost of his lips, his touch.

So, he kept replaying what happened that day.

The other's arrived at the prison-hold minutes after Lance's life had slipped away. There were no more tears for Keith to shed. His eyes were dry, and when the others found them on the floor, Lance still in Keith's arms, Keith was staring blankly at the far wall, his face vacant of any expression.

Allura gasped, her knees buckling beneath her. She sobbed into her hands while Coran stood over her, trying in vain to console her.

Hunk walked up to Lance in a trance, his body shutting down to auto-pilot. He knelt down beside his best friend and just stayed there -- no tears, no screams, no words. Just a blank stare.

Pidge, though, ran to the two paladins in grief. These were her brothers in space and arms... brother, now. She sat on the other side of Lance's body and cried into his chest.

And Shiro? His eyes were transfixed on the scene in front of him, face impassive yet tight with suppressed emotion. He strode up behind Keith and laid a hand on his shoulder, letting the Red Paladin know that he was there for him.

Knocking. Someone was knocking on Keith's door. "Keith?" It was Shiro. Of course it was Shiro. Who else would come and risk their lives by talking to him while he was in this state? "Keith, you can't stay locked up forever." His voice was back to the stern, but understanding voice that everyone had gotten accustomed to. Keith spent the last few years hearing that voice support and criticize him. How could he already be back to normal? It's only been two days. "Keith, open up, please."

"Just come in," Keith muttered, deadpan. There was no emotion in is voice, none on his face, in his eyes. He felt nothing. Just emptiness.

The doors slid open, the scraping sound making Keith cringe and screw his eyes shut. Shiro walked in, his footsteps heavy. They fit Keith's floor with a deafening thump, and Keith recoiled every time. Shiro tried to lay a hand on Keith's shoulder, like he did the day that Lance... well, you know, but Keith shrugged it off.

"Keith, everyone's worried about you," Shiro told him with a sigh.

"That's cool," Keith answered, his gaze remaining fixated on the walls. He pulled the blanket tighter.

Shiro released a breath. "Lance wouldn't wa--"

"Don't you dare try and lecture me about what Lance would want," Keith scowled through clenched teeth, his grip on the blanket tightening. "Lance wanted to go home to his family. Lance wanted a life with his friends. Lance wanted to..." His breathing hitched, his voice getting caught in his throat. "Lance wanted to prove he wasn't..." Could Keith even finish the sentence without utterly crumbling apart at the seams? "That he wasn't useless..." There. He said it. And was he okay? Quiznak, no.

Shiro was silent, but then again, who wouldn't be? When the person you've watched out for half of their life loses someone they love with all of their heart and then some, and they've been keeping their emotions bottled up inside since they were torn away, and suddenly explodes? Would you have anything to say? "Talk to me, Keith."