- Langst One-Shots

- There's nothing left for me.

Hey-hi! Reminder that requests are open! :) I'm running dry on content, wheeze. I'll try to get to the ones I'm interested in as soon as possible!

[Trigger Warning: Suicide attempt, Self-harm, ]
[Klance]

—

It was late at night when Keith heard an odd noise. Not odd as in unfamiliar or peculiar; odd as in he didn't understand why he was hearing it. A dark hallway and a gentle sobbing overlapped by the click of his boots. He looked around, slowing his pace until he approached Lance's door. The sobbing there was louder, yet still quiet. He pressed his ear against the cool metal surface, his brows furrowing at the sound. Lance was crying, that much was obvious, but he was more curious as to why. He always seemed like the happy go lucky guy of the team, he was always so positive. Always had a smile on his face, even in the most dire of situations.

Keith knocked on the door, gentle enough to not wake up anyone else, but enough to alert Lance. It didn't seem to work, yet for some odd reason he felt the need to get in the room as quick as possible. He invited himself in, glancing around at the empty room. The warm light from Lance's bathroom seeped in the dull bedroom from the thin gap between the floor and the door. Keith walked over, knocking on the door cautiously. "Lance?" Behind the door it was silent before he could hear frantic shuffling.

"Lance what are you doing?" He furrowed his brows, his usual disinterested glare— with a tinge of worry. "J-just a second!" He called back. Keith shook his head. "I'm coming in Lance."

When he entered the room he was startled by the sight; albeit startled was an understatement. He'd never thought he'd live to see a sight such as this, he never really wanted to. Lance stared back at him with bloodshot eyes, a sickeningly frightful expression lathered across his tan skin. In his hands; wads of crimson soaked bandages he was clearly trying to throw away before Keith barged in.

Keith suddenly became hyper aware of where the blood had been coming from. His eyes wandered down to Lance's arms. Covered in a variety of shallow cuts and deep gashes, the blood trickled down his skin and it was then that a single drop sounded throughout the room. Keith brought a hand to his face, realizing that he'd been crying. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding before dropping to his knees in-front of Lance's body. Tremors shot through his limbs and Keith reached out slowly as if he were feeding a timid woodland animal and was fearful that it would run away with one faulty movement.

Lance's cerulean eyes stay trained on the tiled floor. He seemed spaced out, so Keith didn't bother trying to talk. He grabbed a nearby towel and ran it under water, squeezing the water out before gently dabbing it over Lance's cuts. His stomach churned as the blood washed away and as selfish and horrid as it sounds, he almost wish he hadn't. As Lance's arm became less bloodied it revealed the severity of his injuries, the cuts lining all the way up his forearms.

Keith bit his lip, holding back tears. He felt selfish for crying, and had no clue how to handle a situation like this. He looked down at Lance who's only facial movement was blinking hard enough so that the tears stuck in his swollen eyes would trickle down his reddened cheeks and fall into his grey t-shirt. His breathing was slow, but at least he was breathing. Keith grabbed a fresh roll of bandages, holding his thumb down gently to hold the wrapping in place as he coated his mauled arms in a protective layer.

Exhaustion was evident in Lance's eyes, and he was still too spaced out to notice Keith calling for him. So the taller male grasped under his knees and behind his back, hosting him up and carrying him to his bed. Lance curled up in his bed, his pillows hiding half of his face. His eyes struggled to adjust in the dark, and it was much more difficult for the latter to see Keith rather than for Keith to see him— considering the bathroom light was still on.

Lance's eyes had finally locked with Keith's, and the two shared and indescribable look. Lance propped himself up, wincing at his wounds before sitting up fully. He gently pat the bed, gesturing for Keith to sit down. The other obliged easily. The shorter male laid his head down onto Keith's lap with a silent yawn.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, and do this for me, man. I didn't know anyone else was up, so I figured—"

"Why?" Lance was cut off, and now Keith was the one staring aimlessly into the distance. For a moment silence only followed Keith's question until the shifting of Lance's body. He was faced away from Keith now, glancing down at his arm wrappings. Keith was almost sure Lance just wasn't going to respond until he spoke.

"I'm useless here," the sadness laced in his voice caused a pang of emotion in Keith's chest.

"I cause distractions, I ruin missions, I'm annoying— I'm a burden and I shouldn't be on this team. I'm just a liability." He twiddled his thumbs together, anxiously awaiting Keith's response. He was sure he'd get hit with the whole, "You're wrong, of course we love you!" spiel, which he was just about sick and tired of.

"Lance, why didn't you tell anyone?"

The other shrugged, almost disappointed Keith hadn't tried to lull him in a false sense of security. Admittedly, he wanted Keith to get upset or angry, to feel bad. He needed a reason to get angry, he couldn't bring himself to just lash out at someone the moment they start speaking to him; then they really would despise him. Which wouldn't be such a bad thing, but he held onto this small sense of hope that people really do care and that they won't leave them. If he pushes them away and they actually stay away, he'll just be alone. And as much as he said he wanted that, it was just spiders and cobwebs spewing out his mouth.

"Lance, we can't figure out the problem unless you tell us—" Lance knew this. He also knew that the majority of the problem was just him not being able to deal with his own issues; which was why instead of trying to fix, it he attempted to off himself.

"Maybe I didn't want you to figure out the problem." He mumbled confidently. "Maybe I just wanted to—"

"I don't care." Lance's head snapped to the side to look Keith in his eyes. He was taken aback, and hurt. His sour mood dissipated quickly as a pitiful feeling of sadness washed over him; he couldn't believe he'd been right this whole time.

"I don't care about you not wanting to get better, because I want you to get better. I don't care about you wanting to sit in your own pile of self pity. I care about you, and I care about making you better. Which is wha I plan on doing." He pulled Lance closer to him, his back now encased in Keith's broad chest.

"Do you want to keep this between us for now, or do you want the team to know?" Keith stroked Lance's hair and he almost let out an animalistic purr at the feeling.

"Just us for now, please." Keith nodded silently, pulling her and Lance up further to lie beneath the pristine white blankets. Keith listened to Lance's breathing and heartbeat slowed, holding him protectively as he ran his fingers through his hair before  3exhaustion took a hold of him as well.

—
Another awkward chapter ending, sorryz 😔👉👈 i am goingz to take a nap now,,