Star boy part 2
illmamnim
i forgot i drew this, a picture of my daughter.
atmosphere-af
soylante
efrondeur
efrondeur
okay but a couple years in the future, Lance goes missing
Keith watches the way the team breaks down, just like they had broken down without Shiro. Back then, he was a kid. Back then, he made everything worse - impulse and filter, or lack thereof - creating a rift between them all, rather than bringing them together when they needed it. It had been Lance that brought them together. His jokes lifted everyone, his shoulder open to cry on, his door unlocked for company.
But they didn’t have that now. Not with Shiro grasping at straws, too focused on how to find their missing member than he is to worry about the grief of the rest. Not with Hunk quietly baking and tinkering constantly, not allowing himself to stop his hands for a moment, lest it gives his brain time to think. Not with Pidge burying her nose so deep into her computer they’re lucky to see her once every few days.
So Keith becomes what he can. He makes sure Shiro sleeps, makes sure Hunk has an ear to talk to, makes sure Pidge eats. He watches over them, mother-henning them like he knew Lance would. But he’s not Lance. He watches Hunk lose weight and Shiro isolate himself and the dark circles under Pidge’s eyes grow and grow.
It doesn’t help that he has no one to lean on. No familiar heat to curl up against in his bed. No blue eyes that see everything, even when Keith tries so hard to make sure they’re hidden. No joyous laughter and stories of a happy family with children who don’t always make the smartest decisions. It’s just Keith in his bed alone at night, crying as the familiar smell of ocean spray and sunshine slips further from his grasp. As he wakes each day, knowing he has others to care for before himself.
Knowing he isn’t Lance. And Lance isn’t here.
ruinedchildhood