There had always been something special about Lance. From his unique perspective on time and life from his odd talent for getting into trouble, he was something that most of the adults in his life could not easily categorise. He was loud and outgoing one minute, then silent and teary-eyed the next. Part of this was because of his extreme (and entirely unknown) social anxiety. Every time something backfired, from a joke to a pick-up line to a presentation, it got worse.

It got to the point where Lance couldn't go anywhere or do anything without confirmation that it would be okay, that he wouldn't get in trouble. That he was, in fact, doing the right thing. He hated being embarrassed, even if it was only slight embarrassment. He would avoid confrontation and conversation some days if it meant not feeling horrible. Nobody seemed to care when he went silent for a week.

Despite his extreme hate for embarrassment, he loved to talk. It was an odd combination, but he had a strange perspective on life that he loved sharing. Well, he loved sharing it until some of his "friends" started bullying him about it. They would laugh, tell him that parallel universes didn't exist. They had complete control over their lives, why couldn't he have control over his? He was much quieter after that. But he still noticed odd things that felt important. He never would have guessed that this was because of his soon-to-be bond with the blue lion, feeding him ideas and tiny snippets of important future events.

For example, when he first met Keith, everything got fuzzy for a minute. He couldn't help but stare at him. (On second thought, this could have been because he was totally and completely gay for Keith and not anything to do with blue.)

Yes, Lance had always been special. Everyone around him had seen it - but not him. He still thought he was too loud, too annoying. He pretended not to notice when he was ignored, but he did notice, and it hurt. It hurt so much, and when he hurt inside like that, the voice in his head would kick into action.

It's not about you. It's never about you. You're so fucking stupid, why don't you just fucking kill yourself and save everyone the trouble of dealing with you?

Not happy thoughts.

But he didn't care. He didn't deserve happiness. It wasn't about him, right?

Nobody seemed to notice as he slowly went silent. It started with a joke, to which someone had responded "Lance, please just shut up."

Next it was Keith yelling at him for only god knows why, telling him to care more about others; mirroring the thoughts that had plagued his mind for weeks. He had choked down tears that time, not understanding why Keith was being such an asshole. But he kept a steady voice and only teared up a little bit. Keith was glaring at him, but Lance was pretty sure the red paladin hadn't noticed.

Even if he had, would he have cared? He was taking his anger out on Lance. There was not reason for that. No reason other than to make Lance feel bad.

So Lance faked smiles, learning just how to raise his cheeks so that nobody would notice the difference between his forced smiles and his real ones. Eventually, the two blended into one, leaving Lance with an empty heart, a poisoned mind and an metaphorical shelf of self esteem cleared away long ago. He was really at his low point.

But Lance couldn't tell anyone. Everyone thinks of depressed people as myths created by attention starved teenagers looking for love.

Look at me, I'm sad.

Pity me, I'm sad.

Love me, I'm sad.

If you had a twin who looked like you, sounded like you and was impossible to tell apart from you, and they cried wolf over and over and over, and you actually saw a wolf, would you cry for help? Your voices are identical. Everyone around you would confuse you for them and nobody would help you ward away the wolf.

Lance was the twin and his undiagnosed depression was the wolf. If he didn't get help soon, it would devour him and everything he cared about, but even if he called for help, he was scared he wouldn't get it.

So when he saw the golden opportunity for a joke, he clenched his jaw, stretched his sore cheeks into a smile and kept quiet.

Nobody even noticed.

Well, not at first, anyway. Surprisingly, it was Keith who caught on before anyone else. He had teased Lance for not being a sore looser.

"All cried out, huh?"

Lance's answer had surprised him.

"How'd you know?"

Something about the way he said it, shocked and terrified for a split second before he spotted the grin on Keith's face... Well, Keith knew that look. He had worn that look when he was younger, when he was moved from foster home to foster home and he had just wished his life could end.

"Lance?" He had asked. There was a flicker of something in Lance's intense blue eyes. Perhaps fear, perhaps relief. Keith didn't know and didn't care.

"Yeah, what?"

"Are, uh, are you okay?" Keith didn't know why he asked. Obviously, Lance would say he was. He would assure him that he was fine. That nothing was wrong and he loved his life.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, I just... Nevermind." He would confront him later, alone.

And that he did. He waited for an hour outside of Lance's room, and just when he was rethinking his chooses, he heard the door swoosh open and Lance ran out. He caught muffled sobbing and felt something wet drip on his bare feet as Lance ran past.

Keith did the sensible thing - and chased after him.