Chapter Text
Tempers had been running high all week. They'd attacked a base thinking it had information on the Galra empire they'd needed, fought a brutal battle to its mission center just to be disappointed. There was nothing, not a thing . Pidge couldn't even find anything when they hacked into their computer, and Pidge always found something. Which meant that they'd injured their lions (and themselves) for absolutely nothing.
Lance in particular had been hit pretty hard. Being stuck in a healing pod after needing to be rescued by Keith hadn't felt good, especially since Lance had been sparring with him the entire week and lost. Every. Single. Time. While he and Keith were about the same in regards to strength, Keith obviously had more skill and it burned to realize it. So, when he fell out of the pod and straight into Keith's waiting arms, the dam that had been holding back his discontent that entire week burst.
"I already know you're better than me, do you really have to rub it in?" Lance shoved his hands into Keith's chest, nearly falling over himself. He grabbed the edge of the pod to steady himself, glaring daggers, trying not to shiver too much. Pretended he didn't have a problem with the hurt in Keith's eyes.
"Lance, what the hell?" Keith sounded confused. "You nearly died out there!"
"Why are you here alone anyway?" Lance shot out, ignoring what Keith had said. "Here to gloat before the others got here?"
"You've been out for three days ." Keith's face was slowly turning red. "I was waiting for you to come out. What the hell do I have to gloat about? I was worried about you!"
"What, looking after the weak one in the group?" Lance folded his arms across his chest, legs feeling a bit steadier.
"What the hell's your problem today?" Keith's voice was getting louder.
"Don't try to deny it," Lance snapped, starting to get louder as well. "I've seen how you look at me when I say I'm homesick, you think I'm fucking weaker than you-"
"Is this about you being homesick?" Keith let out a hard bark of laughed. "Jesus christ, we're all homesick-"
"Don't act like you feel the same, you don't even have a family to miss!"
Keith's face went white, his eyes wide. His jaw dropped, Lance felt dread creep up his chest at the silence. He'd gone too far this time, way too far. Wild thoughts of quick apologies flashed through his mind and then Keith was shouting like Lance had never heard before, his face an angry scarlet. Keith looked like he'd much rather be spitting fire than words, lips drawn up in an ugly snarl. Fire would've been easier to block.
"- can't help it that you've stuck me in some stupid, one sided rivalry-" Keith was shouting, fists clenched rigidly at his sides. Lance stared open mouthed at him, hands held up in a half defensive stance. The others started to appear in the door and he turned away, crossing his arms tightly across his chest like a petulant child. "- you act like you can actually catch up to me when you were at the bottom of the fucking barrel at the Garrison-"
Lance's retort stuck in the back of his throat as a feeling like ice water burst in his chest, and he turned to at least try to defend himself, but Keith wasn't finished. He poked a finger into Lance's chest, taking a huge breath before continuing. "I don't know how you even passed the entry exams, you barely even care about flying, why'd you even join-" Lance could see the others' shocked faces from the corner of his eyes, sure his wide eyes matched theirs perfectly. Keith just kept going, Lance's very existence seeming to feed his anger like oxygen fed a house fire. "- you just have to flirt with every single girl you see, who the fuck even does that, and you act like you're so fucking strong and manly when you're a skinnier fuck than a prepubescent boy whose body hasn't caught up to his growth spurt yet, who the hell do you think you are-"
Someone grabbed Keith's arm and he shook it off, still yelling at Lance, but the movement broke whatever trance Lance had been in and he turned and walked away, a strange buzzing in his ears. He broke into a run once he was in the hallway, just running, numb all over, stumbling over his own feet but he didn't care. Keith's words ran circles in his head, curved talons sinking into any bit of flesh they could reach, and Lance heard Keith shouting himself hoarse down the hallway after him, his words incomprehensible as they bounced around the castle.
He kept going for as long as he could, going farther into the castle than he ever had before, racing past gigantic windows that blinked bright starry eyes at him amid the vast blackness of space. He finally stopped at a corner junction between two hallways, chest heaving, ears ringing. Sliding down the wall in the corner, he curled his knees to his chest and just started sobbing, warm, wet tears turning cold as they slid down his flushed cheeks. Still freezing from the healing pod but cheeks and legs burning from the run, and he pressed himself into the corner as hard as he could, a headache pulling at his forehead.
Lance wasn't all talk. He wasn't all banter and inappropriate jokes and flirting. He knew he had flaws and he had to hide them somehow, right? His older cousin Gwen called his demeanor a turtle shell, a home he could curl up and stay safe in. That shell was why he was in this situation. He'd gone too far in what he'd said to Keith this time and he knew it. But turtles can't get rid of their shells. They're attached to their backbone and they'd die without them. He couldn't just rip it away and apologize, couldn't strip himself bare by shoving those jokes and flirtations aside.
Why the hell did it have to be Keith who was there when he woke up, anyway? All he did was stir up stupid feelings and cause Lance to make a fool of himself. Stupid Keith with his stupid hair and pretty eyes and perfect body. Lance pushed his face harder into his knees, lights dancing beneath his eyelids. Keith just reminded him of how inadequate he was.
Sometime later, after he'd cried himself dry and loosened his grip on his knees, Lance heard someone walk up to him. A warm blanket was placed around his shoulders, and he looked up to see Hunk and Coran looking down at him with concern in their eyes. Hunk held a plate of food and a cup of something hot.
Lance's eyes were puffy and somewhat red, and he sniffled as Hunk slid down the wall to sit next to him. Conan followed suit on the other part of the wall, patting Lance's knee somewhat awkwardly.
"Hi, buddy," said Hunk quietly, placing the food and drink on the floor.
Lance put his head on Hunk's shoulder, sniffing again. "Hey." His voice lacked conviction but he could poke his head out of the shell, right?
"You gave us a right good scare there, Lance," Coran said, concern prominent. "We were afraid you'd passed out."
"Yeah, the castle's scanner said that you were way colder than you should be." Lance pulled the blanket tight around him, shifting to sit cross legged. Hunk put an arm around his shoulders. "An' you really should eat something. You were in there for three days, you know."
"Yeah, Keith told me," Lance said hollowly. He reached for the still steaming drink, warmth seeping into his nearly numb fingers through the material of the cup. "What is this?"
"It's an Altean pick-me-up drink," said Coran, a slight sparkle to his eye. "Now, don't look at me like that, Hunk fixed it up so it would be more palatable to you."
Lance sniffed the drink suspiciously. It had a spicy scent similar to cloves and cinnamon. He took a sip, a comfortable warmth slipping down his throat. "Oh," he said, surprised. "Thanks."
Hunk started rubbing Lance's shoulder. "I'm sorry it took so long for us to get here, we kept getting turned around. S'like the TARDIS, y'know?"
Lance just nodded, taking another gulp of the drink.
"Lance, I hope you'll excuse me, the princess asked me to return once we found you. She was afraid you'd passed out." Coran waited for Lance to bob his head again before he stood, giving Lance's knee a final pat and leaving.
"I shouldn't have said that thing earlier," said Lance after Coran's head disappeared behind a corner.
"What did you say?"
Lance looked over. "Keith didn't tell you?" Hunk shook his head and Lance stared into the dark liquid in the cup. "I said he didn't have a family to miss at home." His voice was barely loud enough to be heard. "I shouldn't have said it," he added.
"No, you shouldn't have," Hunk agreed, still rubbing Lance's shoulder. "Keith shouldn't've said what he said either."
"He had every right to say something-"
"Not like that, Lance-"
"I provoked him, okay? I deserved it! And he wasn't all wrong, you can't deny it." Tears started to prick the edges of his eyes and he rubbed them away angrily.
"Lance, you're not worthless," Hunk said firmly, the calming aura that always surrounded him seeming to increase tenfold. "You're not annoying and you're not a bad pilot."
Lance swallowed as a lump started forming in his throat, setting the cup down and wrapping his arms around a surprised looking Hunk. "Thank you,” he said quietly. “Hunk, I still need to apologize. I fucked up."
"Yeah," agreed Hunk, giving his best friend a squeeze. "But so does he."
Lance sat back, pulling out of the hug but nearly sitting in Hunk's lap. "How likely is that?"
Hunk shrugged. "He seemed pretty upset afterwards 'nd I'm sure that it wasn't just because of you. Actually, he wanted to be the one to come and find you. But we didn't know how you'd take that since we didn't know what started the whole thing, 'nd I was gonna try and see what was up with you after our last mission anyway."
"Why does anything have to be up?" Lance asked weakly.
"Well, you seemed kinda down, like, all last week, 'nd anyway, I know you’d never dig at Keith about his family otherwise. I'm definitely not saying that you shoulda said that, but I know you. You're a good guy."
"Maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm an awful person at heart. Maybe I used to kick puppies."
Hunk snorted, throwing his arm back around Lance's shoulders. "A puppy kicker wouldn't've comforted Matt Stevens when he came into class crying."
Lance just hmphed, leaning into Hunk's side.
"Are you homesick again?" Hunk asked, his voice quiet.
Lance took a while to answer. "... sorta."
"Sorta?"
"I was thinking about something my cousin said an' it started to make me feel bad an'... I dunno."
"Is that why you said that to Keith?"
"No? Not really, that's a whole 'nother issue..." Lance sighed. "Well, I guess it's connected? I said that 'cause of my turtle shell."
"I hate to break it to you, buddy, but you don't got a turtle shell."
Lance snorted, poking Hunk in the side. "It's a metaphor. Aren't you supposed to be the smart one?"
"What's up with your metaphoric turtle shell, then?" Lance could hear the smile in Hunk's voice.
"'s part of my backbone, y'know?" Lance played with the hem of the blanket, hoping he made sense. "Can't take it off." Hunk stayed silent and Lance huffed. "Y'know, the way I act. The flirting 'n shit."
"How's that your turtle shell? Bud, that's just you. It's not a bad thing."
"It's annoying," Lance mumbled. "An' I can't even get rid of it. I try and then somethin' happens and I just do it all over again."
"You don't have it now," Hunk pointed out.
"You're my best friend, of course it's not there now." Lance paused. "Okay, I get what you're saying. But I trust you, it's easier to not have it around you."
"Why’s it hard around Keith?"
"Oh, I don't know." Lance twisted so his back was against the wall next to him, knees facing Hunk. "He's just so much better than me."
"He's not better than you. You're just good at different things."
Lance snorted. "I'm not good at the right things. He was right, I'm not as good a pilot as he is, I'm not as strong as he is, I'm not as smart as he is-"
"Lance, that's not true-"
"I was at the bottom of the class-"
"You were at the bottom of the fighter pilot class, you mean."
"Yeah, that makes it feel better."
"It should. Anyway, your problem was more overconfidence than anything else," said Hunk matter-of-factly. "I mean, you got the hang of flying your lion pretty quickly, and that's way more advanced than any craft the Garrison had."
"Well, the Garrison didn't have anything that basically told you what to do."
"The lions are still more complicated. Plus, you can beat me at chess, so you're good at tactical stuff."
"Yeah, I guess." Lance reached for the drink, the cup somehow still steaming. He took a few big gulps. "This stuff would've been good for after breakups."
"Mm." Hunk gave him a calculating look. "Can I ask you something?"
Lance's stomach lurched. "Go ahead, dude."
"Do you like Keith?"
"What? Of course not!" Lance was blushing and that probably gave him away but fuck if he was gonna outright say it. Hunk actually laughed, and Lance said reluctantly, "Okay, maybe a little."
"Dude, there's better ways to let him know other than pulling at on his pigtails!" Hunk was actually giggling .
"Fuck you, man!" Lance poked him in the shoulder. "It's not that easy! He makes me angry!"
"You gotta talk to him!"
"Yeah, that'll turn out well. I've ruined it at this point, haven't I?"
Hunk shrugged. "Once he was done being angry, he just seemed... sad."
Lance's shoulders dropped. "I need to apologize."
"Yeah, you said that. You should eat before we go back, though."
Lance had forgotten that there was food there, and oh look, he was hungry. He obediently grabbed the plate and a utensil, trying not to eat too fast.
The thought of seeing Keith again was frightening and exciting at the same time. His worry must have shown on his face, because Hunk gave him one of those smiles that only Hunk could give, warm and gentle but sturdy at the same time, just like the guy who gave them.