"Lance, you have to wake up..." A soft voice jolted Lance from his slumber and encouraged his eyes to flicker open. Once the sleepiness had passed and he had blinked a couple of times, it finally registered that Keith's face was just centimetres from his own. His bedroom light was on but Lance didn't even question how that was the case when he had fallen asleep in darkness. "Something is going to happen and we need you."

"You... need me..." Lance repeated, voice thick with sleep. He pulled himself up into a sitting position as he rubbed his eyes and attempted to process what was going on. How did Keith even get into his room? Lance's eyes flickered to his open window and that answered that question... but why did Keith need him? Keith had been the one to suggest Lance getting some space and going home. Why did he want him to come back?

"Yeah, we do. We need you Lance. You're our sharpshooter."

The nickname elicited Lance's cheeks to flush red as he dropped his gaze to his own lap. He had given himself the nickname but it had never caught on. Hearing it come out of Keith's mouth- of all people- in such a serious manner was one of the biggest compliments in the world. "What's going on?" Lance asked once he remembered what they had really been talking about.

"Another race of alien species are trying to rebel against Voltron and all we've worked for. I think they plan to ruin the system somehow but I'm not sure what they're going to do. Pidge is looking into it but we need to be ready to attack. We might need Voltron."

"How... How are you here? I'm on Earth and you're-"

"I'm still on Alkafa, Lance. I just needed to talk to you."

For some reason, Lance didn't register the impossibility of Keith's statement. He just accepted it and moved on. "Oh, okay... When do you need me?"

"As soon as possible." Keith started to head towards Lance's bedroom window but his hands froze before they could even touch it. "And Lance?" Lance lifted up his head to meet Keith's kind eyes. "We miss you. The team is falling apart without you."

"What do you mean?"

"Shiro has nightmares almost every night, Pidge hasn't slept in days, Hunk is anxious most of the time," Lance always had been the one to help Shiro through nightmares, to tell Pidge when it was time to sleep and to calm Hunk down when he had panic attacks. He had always been the rock of the team; the one who comforted the rest when they were going through hard times. "And I..." Keith broke the eye contact to look at his feet but he ended up shaking his head. "Actually, I'm fine."

Keith's tone of voice suggested otherwise but Lance knew not to push it too hard. It seemed that not seeing each other for so long had encouraged Keith to raise his defences again and put on the emotionless mask again. "Do you miss having me around, mullet?" Lance allowed his tone to find a glint of humour as one side of his mouth quirked up into a smirk. He expected Keith to roll his eyes or even snap something back but he didn't.

His mouth stayed in a straight line as he looked at where his gloved hand was hovering in front of the open window. Even from where Lance was sitting on the other side of the room, he was able to see the way Keith's eyes darkened in a way that almost made them looked teary. "Yeah..." Keith whispered so quietly that Lance almost didn't hear. "We all do. It's hard not having the rock of the team around when we need you most."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise. We know you needed space after... what happened. Take your time healing. We can probably handle the aliens without you; I mean, it's not like they can do much damage. They aren't even close to the same level as the Galra."

"I'll come visit soon, if I can but there's some stuff I need to figure out here first. It's not easy for me right now."

"I'm sure it's not." Keith pulled himself out of the window and lingered on the edge for a short moment. "Say hi to your family for me." With that, he leaped down, leaving Lance to stare at the place where he had once been standing. He couldn't help the tears filling his eyes and, eventually, dribbling down his pale face.

His cheeks were burning and he didn't need to look in a mirror to know the marks had returned.

-

As Lance's dad placed a plate of pancakes down on the table in front of Lance, he couldn't help but blurt out, "Keith came to see me last night. He said hi." He missed his parents exchanging identical concerned gazes as he moved his attention to the food. Silence diffused through the room as Lance picked up a bottle of golden syrup and shook it. He flipped it over and began to squeeze it onto the pancake, giving himself a generous dollop of the substance.

"What did he say to you?" Lance's dad eventually asked as Lance picked up his fork and stabbed the food. He pulled a chair up beside Lance to sit beside his son and give him all of his attention. Lance was too busy eating to notice that neither of his parents had any pancakes himself. It was too late in the morning for his dad to have made Luis or Veronica any before school.

"He's on this planet, right? It's called Alkafa," Lance's dad nodded but his face remained the same. "He's helping the coalition and spreading Voltron's message and he told me that some aliens were planning to rebel. He said they needed my help."

What Lance's dad did to react didn't register in his head until his hand jolted out and he latched onto Lance's arm. The touch was so unexpected that Lance's fork fell from his hand, making a loud, clattering noise that seemed to echo around the room. "You can't go back." Lance had never heard his dad sound so terrified. It was about as rare as seeing Keith cry (which never happened).

Lance swallowed his mouthful. His eyebrows furrowed and he turned his head to the side in a concoction of both confusion and curiosity. "Why? I need to protect-"

"You don't need to protect anything. You're eighteen years old, Lance. This isn't your responsibility," Until that moment, Lance hadn't noticed how drained his parents looked. His dad had thick bags under his eyes and his words were coming out so rapidly that it made his desperation apparent to the whole world. "You- You need to be around your family at the moment, okay?"

"But the universe could be in danger, papá."

Seemingly having some sort of internal debate, his dad refused to meet his gaze for a moment. When he finally met eyes with his son again, there seemed to be a dark, seriousness hidden behind his irises. "Lance, you need to understand that you're just one boy... a kid. This isn't on your shoulders."

"It is! The blue lion chose me! She thought I was worthy."

"Okay..." His dad huffed and ran his hands through his hair. He slumped his shoulders as he debated the next way to approach the situation. "How do you suppose this Keith guy got in?" Lance's eyebrows furrowed so his dad pressed further. "If he came to visit you last night, how did he get into the house?"

"Through my window."

"And how did he leave?"

"My window."

Lance's dad forced a smile before delivering a harsh pat to Lance's shoulder. The impact was rough enough for Lance to flinch. "You know that isn't possible."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you remember that time you were being an angsty teenager and tried to escape the house whilst you were grounded? You jumped out of the window and broke your arm."

"So?"

"There's no way Keith would have been able to get out of that window without injuring himself. I don't think he would have been able to climb up the side of the house either."

"But-"

"You must have dreamt it, hijo," Lance's mother added once she realised that her husband was struggling to find the right words. She approached Lance, letting her gaze flicker down to his abandoned, lukewarm pancakes and then back up at her son. "Keith isn't... he can't be..." She failed to finish as her breath hitched and her voice cracked.

"He's real. I know it. He was in my room last night."

Turning to speak to her husband that time, Lance's mum murmured, "We need to book another appointment with Dr Anderson."

"It's Friday." Lance whispered, struggling to find the energy to argue. In front of him, his pancakes had suddenly began to look more sad than joyful. The golden syrup looked too excessives as the food was practically swimming in the substance and the coldness that was spreading through them meant they didn't look so crisp and perfect anymore.

"We know but... it would be better if you spoke to someone about this... dream. You can tell him all about Keith and what he said."

Lance couldn't say anything: there was a large lump of a sob rising in his throat. He stood up and shoved his chair backwards. He didn't spare a second glance at his pancakes before storming upstairs, where he rushed into the bathroom. Nausea was swirling in the pit of his stomach, heavy and uncomfortable. He dropped straight onto his knees in front of the toilet and proceeded to throw up the miniature amount of pancake he had eaten.

Just looking at his own vomit tempted further nausea so he forced himself to look at the dull, bathroom wall. His head was spinning as the world danced around him and only made him feel worse.

What if his parents were right?

What if Voltron had just been some fucked up dream his head had made up?

No... Keith was real. He was a hot-headed (but attractive) loser. Shiro was real. He was a protective leader. Pidge was real. She was a mini genius who didn't sleep properly. Hunk was real. Sure, he was an anxious mess but he was Lance's best friend. Allura was real. Lance had watched her sacrifice herself to save the universe. He knew it, even if everyone else thought he was insane.

-

"Why didn't your parents believe you actually saw Keith?" Dr Anderson questioned, raising his pen and waving it around in the air to gesture. Lance's eyes followed its movements just so he didn't have to make eye contact.

"They said it would have been impossible for him to get in the house..." Lance hung his head, letting his hair fall over the majority of his face. Dr Anderson shifted in his seat as he leant towards Lance. When he next spoke, his voice was lower.

"How do you feel about them saying that?" Lance went silent. He turned his head to stare out of the window as his hands played with the ends of his sleeves. He couldn't help it as his legs began to bounce up and down but Dr Anderson didn't seem to notice. "Lance?"

"I... I guess they're right." As soon as the words escaped Lance's mouth, tears began to fill his eyes. The room lapsed into silence as a singular tear ran down his cheek, so perfectly that it could have been part of a scripted movie scene. Dr Anderson's eyes watched it fall and only once it had landed on Lance's knee did he speak.

"What does that mean for you, Lance? Do you think he actually came to see you like you originally thought?"

"I..." Lance used all his strength to hold back a sob so his words came out much more broken and fragile than he had anticipated. "I don't know."

This book makes me so sad hahahaha... poor Lonce... :(