Langst Oneshots

Speak Your Truth

{A/N- so this is the part 2 for 'the most powerful stories are left unspoken' or something. Damn that's a long title, I dunno, I might change it later. Also, I m i g h t be stopping this book after voltron ends. I have absolutely no clue, if I have ideas, I'll write and publish them...but if I don't I guess I'll just...stop?? I dunno, if enough people want me to continue this then I'll continue it. Anyway, enjoy I guess}

Trigger warnings:
-abuse

The team turned to watch the screen as it played some hidden fragments of Lance's thoughts. There was a woman there, tall and beautiful, sharing coffee stained skin with lance. She was obviously scared, but masked it with a smile. Which Keith was now realising was Lance's signature move. The woman was also wearing lance's jacket. The team assumed she was lance's mother, due to the extremely obvious age gap. On the screen, she was cradling lance protectively. Lance must have been about four at the time, but what was peculiar was that he wasn't covering his arms, or his chest. Hopefully meaning this would tell the team what actually happened.

Keith had noticed before, though he didn't class it as important until now, lance flinched whenever he heard Zarkon's voice. He'd ball his hands into fists and grit his teeth, all in an attempt to fake bravery. Keith had never given it a second thought. Until now, as his eyes were fixed on the screen, and the drunken man swaying on it. He looked like a more muscular and mature lance, so the team assumed this was his father. The team hadn't noticed yet, but as soon as Lance's father came on screen, lance had flinched in his dream like state. The man stepped closer to where lance and his mother were gathered. Lance's mother quickly whispered "stay quiet" to lance before she stood and greeted the bumbling man. Lance's mother seemed to flinch as the guy swiftly moved his hand. Keith narrowed his eyebrows, dreading what he already knew was going to happen.

The man started screaming at lance's mother, grabbing her by the hair, pushing her to the ground. Lance watched in terror as he cried out "Stop! Please stop!!" The man turned to lance. Hollow eyes fixed on the small boy. Lance's mother tried in vain to hold him back from her place on the ground, but with another swift kick to the head, she was out cold, which only caused lance to scream more. The man shuffled up to the small boy, grabbing him by he collar and throwing his into the staircase. "WATCH YOUR MOUTH BOY, YOU SEE THAT?" The man paused, pointing to his mother passed out on the floor, bruises creating a map of fear on her body. "T-that's your fault!!" Lance screamed, anger clearly present in the small boy's face. The man stomped closer, grabbing lance by the hair, and raising him to meet his ferocious eyes. "Don't you dare talk back to me ever again. You here me prick?" The man seethed, squeezing Lance's throat tightly. Lance clawed helplessly at his hands, trying desperately to pry them off his neck. The man was so muscular and overpowering, he never stood a chance.

Lance struggled harder for air. He wouldn't surrender to this cruel man. The man grinned, as he raised his arm higher, and threw lance to the floor. "Pissy lil shit." The man mumbled before clamouring up the rickety staircase. He shook the house violently when he slammed the door, lance was almost convinced the windows would shatter. Lance laid there for a few seconds. His head pounding dangerously, his back a mess of scalding stings. He doubted he could walk, or even crawl for that matter. But he had to try, he had to see if his mother was ok. He opened his eyes slowly, wondering when he closed them, and carefully turned his head to meet his mother's gaze. His brain beat against his skull, the pulsating pain quickly becoming unbearable.

His body ached tremendously, becoming paralysed to the floor. His eye lids were so heavy, he couldn't fight back. He tried desperately to focus on something, anything that would keep him awake and aware. His eyes drifted to the ceiling, he'd never noticed the map of cracks before. How unevenly painted on the horrendous creme colour was. He tried to distract his brain by counting the odd shapes. Focusing solely on making it to the next shape. His eyes kept jumping, from one line to another, no longer bothering to count them. His goal was just to keep going, to find the next shape. But before he knew it, his eyes shut tight, he didn't wake up for a while after that.

The team watched on. Observing his memories again and again. Each slap, kick or punch made lance quieter, secretly robbing him of his voice. The pieces started to fall into place now. How he'd rather fall, and risk getting hurt, just so he wasn't near a boy. The team couldn't stand watching this, yet they couldn't bring themselves to look away. They felt as if they were required to witness this. As if this was something they needed. Something that lance needed them to see.

It had taken at least an hour to sift through all of Lance's horrible memories. It seemed as if he had remained mute for almost a year now. Even his mother only heard a word out of him every few months. It was crazy to imagine really. Lance was always so bright and talkative, to think that someone that loud, could have once been afraid of making noise. It was almost unimaginable. Keith figured it was a sort of coping mechanism. Spending so many years in silence would without a doubt be scaring, his talkative nature must be an attempt at coping with that.

No body spoke much after viewing his memories. Pidge, hunk and coran left to try and figure out a way to change lance back quickly. It would obviously wear off eventually, but they were unaware if they could wait that long. Krolia gently removed lance from the machine and carefully carried him over to allura's room. She debated taking him to Keith's room, but realised he might be spooked when he woke up. She carefully tucked him in, and watched over him quietly as he slept. He looked so peaceful, so careless, as if the world hadn't crumbled beneath him before, although it's happened so many times. This child was already a warrior. Born into a harsh environment, a violent fight for freedom. Maybe that's why he could smile so brightly at a time like this.

{A/N- Yo, sorry this is so short and late. School just started up again and I have a ton of English work I was supposed to do...but I didn't so...now I have to do it all tomorrow and hope that my teacher won't yell at me.}

Bubyee~