Chapter Text
...
If I scream at the top of my lungs
Will you hear what I don't say?
If I dance like I'm on a stage
Will you see I seem out of place?
...
The castle was quiet late at night, any sounds echoing off the walls, reverberating through the walls. Lance had figured this out long ago, and could walk so quietly, even the mice didn’t hear him. Everyone else in the castle usually slept during the night, and, if they weren’t sleeping, like Pidge, who was usually up on her computer, or Shiro, whose PTSD kept him up, they weren’t likely to be wandering around the castle.
Lance was completely alone.
The castle was big-and huge swaths were forgotten or ignored. Not essential. Just like Lance. It's not like he wanted to be the seventh wheel. Not again. It was the same back at home on earth. Just another child in a brood of too many, just another sibling to ignore.
Lance sighed. As much as things changed, the more they stayed the same. At least on the ship no one really cared what he did outside of training, aa long as he was in his lion when needed.
Just a warm body. Necessary because there was no one else.
When he and the others had first arrived at the castle, he had really thought things were going to be different. The blue lion had chose him; his team on the garrison liked him, or, at least, well enough. And, sure, Keith and Shiro had been a little standoff-ish, and Allura hadn’t been the most pleased when she figure out that he was, in fact, not fucking with them, and was an actual Paladin. Coran seemed to like him at least.
Two weeks.
That’s how long it took Lance to realize that acceptance had all been in his head. That was how long it took him to realize that the happy-go-lucky persona he put on didn’t matter to these people. No matter how much he tried to do the right thing, say the right thing...none of it mattered. He could scream into the void of space and no one would hear him.
No one noticed. No one cared.
That had been months ago.
Months of being pushed to the side. Months of being an afterthought. Months of being the worthless flirt that really didn’t contribute all that much. Months of being the seventh wheel. The last wheel. The forgotten-until-needed wheel. At first, Lance had been hurt, but that pain had mostly dulled to a lonely numbness that never went away. Like that feeling of being frozen at the dentist, but all over.
Lance was on his way to a small observation deck he had found after a few weeks on the castle. No one seemed to know about it, so he could just be alone. Away from the team. Away from the facade he himself had created. It was near the top of the castle when it was flying, And close enough to the hangars with the lions so he could sprint there if needed.
The room itself was small, a few lounge chairs, and a table. The big draw for Lance, other than the privacy, was the floor to ceiling windows that opened up to show the stars, planets, and suns of whatever galaxy they were in. The big bright orbs, small coloured ones, and streaks of colour ripping through the black void comforted Lance. Maybe it was the openness, or the unending-ness of it all, but Lance loved space. It reminded him of the ocean back in Varadero. Blue and open for as far as the eye could see.
Lance had seated himself on the couch, facing the windows, and let his thoughts consume him. He was trapped, in every way possible. Trapped on a space-castle; trapped as a saviour of the galaxy-not that he was complaining. Quite the opposite, it made him feel important, wanted, needed. Sure, no one really noticed his contributions to the team, such as they were. And yes, sure, the beings on the planets they saved never really said more than a greeting to him, but, he was still there.
Right?
He was the leg of Voltron, helping support the other team members (regardless of whether they noticed or not). That had to count for something.
Right?
He sighed.
Even he didn’t believe it. Blue chose him, sure, but it wasn’t like there was a lot of choice, especially given the fact that Blue probably knew the others were destined to be the other Paladins. He was just the extra available body; right time right place, and all that.
The only thing to really go right in his life, honestly.
There was a soft noise outside the room, and Lance tensed.
“Lance?”
Of course. Of-fucking-course.
“I didn’t know you knew about this place, I come up here sometimes.”
Lance didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say. This was his place of solitude, his place where he could just, not. And here was Keith, in his space.
He tried to rebuild his persona, as Keith came further into the room. The layers of self-doubt, insecurity, and hurt being removed and replaced with energy, and pep, and self-confidence.
“Lance? Are you alright?”
No. He was not alright. He had never been alright. But he couldn’t say that. He had let his guard down, let go of himself in this space that was supposed to be just for him. A place he could be himself.
The rebuilding of himself wasn’t working. The panic began to rise, heartbeat quickening as the footsteps moved closer and closer.
“Lance?”
The voice was behind Lance, so close. Too close. He had to say something. Something that he would normally say, but his mind was blank.
“Lance? Come on buddy, what’s going on?”
He turned his face away from where Keith leaned over the couch, avoiding his gaze.
“I'm sorry. The Lance you are looking for is currently unavailable. Please try your call later.” He paused. “just.... Not now.” his voice cracked.
Once again, Lance had said the wrong thing. Even he could hear the insincerity, the fakeness. He berated himself for even trying to come up with something.
Keith wasn’t stupid. He would ask questions, and there was no easy way of escape. Only one door, and it was behind Keith. Would Keith try and stop him? Lance didn’t know.
The footsteps stopped moving. He could hear the rustle of Keiths jacket as he moved. Panic was setting in, the walls closing in around Lance. If he didn’t get it together soon, he was going to lose it, in front of Keith of all people.
He couldn’t let that happen.
Deep breath in; ignore the shifting of the couch; deep breath out. Keep the eyes closed, another deep breath in and out. He could feel the heat radiating off Keith beside him, but he kept his face forward, eyes still closed. Deep breath in, let it all out.
Slowly he opened his eyes, and took another deep breath in, plastered a smile on his face.
“What can I do for you Mullet?” There. That sounded normal. Or, at least, better. He could tell the smile looked fake, and that his voice wasn’t as exuberant as his usual show, but, it was something.
Keith had an eyebrow raised, violet eyes staring at Lance, dark hair just brushing his eyelashes. “Are you okay, Lance?”
No. Of course he wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay, and, if history decided to repeat itself, it never would be.
He smiled and cocked his head at Keith. “Okay? Of course it isn’t! A little secluded spot, a great view, and no sexy ladies to share it with.” he shook his head, and raised his shoulders. He was good at pretending to be the great flirt. Sure, his lines were cheesy-even he knew that. But they were meant to be. No one needed to know that though.
Keith looked doubtful, but just rolled his eyes. “Right. The ladies.” He turned his face back towards the window, and sighed.
“I don’t know why you’re lying to me, but, I won’t force you to talk to me. But I will listen, if you ever want to.”
He turned to look at Lance, but Lance was still facing away from him. Keith reached out to touch him.
Lance jerked back, pulling his jacket sleeves down over his hands.
“I’m fine Keith. You know me. Always fine.” Lance tried to flash a brilliant smile. “It’s late. I’m going to bed. Good night”
Lance didn’t even wait for a response, just silently fled the room, leaving behind a confused Keith.