Chapter Text
There's blood on that blade
Fuck me, I'm falling apart.
No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross, Sufjan Stevens.
--
They want to take Blue away from him. He only just got her back, and they want to take her away from him, again.
Again. They want to do it again.
It's his fault, he knows; he offered to give her away. Said it would be better in the long run. And it will be, Lance- he just didn't expect them to give in so easily.
Didn't expect Blue to give in so easily.
They let him say goodbye in peace; Blue hasn't thrown down her barrier to him yet. Her jaw opens and he is struck by how this is the last time it will happen; he ascends heavily, sinks slowly into the pilot seat, and looks round. Blue interior, blue dashboard. Blue, soft and warm and sad in his mind, a gentle tide soon to depart.
"You know I had to say it," Lance says, but his voice comes out a whisper. Blue nods anyhow. "Allura's better than me. And she wants it more, she wants to be a paladin to avenge her father and bring the galra to justice. That's way more noble than me. I have to let her."
Blue understands. He hates it.
"I-I couldn't hold the team back. And Allura wouldn't ask. I had to say it."
She knows.
"I never deserved you anyway. You only took me on because no other lion would've. I'm not that good a pilot and I'm not clever and I-" He has to stop, suck in a deep breath. "And I'm not even that helpful around here! Y-you were the only thing..." That gave him any use. That made him important. "And n-now you're Allura's."
So typical. So fucking typical, that Lance is the youngest and worst of his siblings, and then the kids come along and he isn't even the cutest anymore, and he only made fighter pilot because perfect fucking Keith dropped out and even when he piloted a lion he didn't have a thing like the others, and now he can't even have Blue. Maybe he was the one to suggest it, but he was barrelling towards this point all along; rock fucking bottom.
Blue tries to shush him, but there's no use listening to her. He isn't her's anymore, he doesn't belong to anyone here. Allura and Coran are practically family; Keith and Shiro brothers; and Pidge and Hunk don't need an idiot like him dragging them down. He isn't necessary, and he isn't wanted, either. Not by anyone here. His family probably think he's dead.
"I should be," he mumbles to Blue. "I should've died already. I should've taken that shot instead of Sven. I should've been blown up by that bomb. At least then it would've been heroic." At least then it would've had a point; Lance Hernandez, died a hero, died to protect his friends and paladins, those who could go so much farther than he could've dreamt. It would've been a goodsacrifice; the team may have been sad for a while, but in the end, they'd understand it was worth it.
They'd realise that out of all of them, it was best that Lance died.
It will be best if he died. He's a spare part, he doesn't fit in and he doesn't help, and he is so flawed. It doesn't make sense to keep him around.
"I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you," he finally says to Blue, opening his eyes and staring out the cockpit. For now, the barrier falls over him, protecting him from the others, keeping him safe. But soon it will lock him out forever, like he never even piloted Blue. "I wanted to be. I really wanted to be. I thought I could do it...but Allura's better for you. For the team. I'll just...do what I always did. Mess around. Screw up. You know...keep it interesting." He tries to smile, but his cheeks are wet. Blue won't smile back. "Or maybe I'll disappear... Do you think the Blades would take me in? Shiro says he heard there were other rebel bases around...maybe I should join those." He exhales heavily. "Or maybe they wouldn't want me either."
It's time to go. Blue isn't happy anymore, she's just sad and distressed and trying to speak to him, but it's better if Lance makes this short. Less painful. He presses the cuff of his jacket against his cheeks, pats his eyes dry and prays no one's lingering outside to see how red and puffy his skin is.
"Thanks, Blue," he says, and stands up. "You'll always be my best girl."
She knows his mind is made up. As she opens her jaw, all he feels from her is love, devotion, a deep, immovable sadness.
And then it is gone. The barrier seals up behind him, and even when he turns back and presses a hand against it, it doesn't fade. The light is gone from Blue's eyes, her presence from his head.
He's alone.
He's alone.
The others aren't waiting outside the hangar; Lance trawls all the way back to his room with no sign of them. Maybe they wanted to give him space to grief; still, he cannot trust it, and he gets on the lift and goes as high as he can and finds the deepest, darkest, dustiest corner of the castle that hasn't been touched in millennia, and he weeps.
He is so alone. Lonelier than he's ever been before. At least on Earth he had his family, at the garrison his team, in space Blue or Red. Now he has absolutely nothing, and no one to share that nothing with. He doesn't want the others to find him like this, so devastated over what was only the logical choice he could've made. There is a black hole inside him, swallowing whole every good, happy memory he's ever had and leaving him with only his shame and humiliation. There is so much of it. Was he so busy perfecting his facade of confidence that he managed to ignore how fucking annoying he was, how stupid and awful and unfunny he must've seemed to the others? He thought it was working. He thought if he said the right things at the right times, people would laugh and maybe they'd like him, maybe they'd want him around. He thought maybe that could even be his special job around here, his niche - he keeps everyone together. He makes them laugh, even if it's at his own expense.
But they don't need him. They don't need him.
No one does.
--
Cast into space, what option does he have? He tries to help around the castle. One mission, they send him along in Blue and have him snipe from a distance. Another, he's in the fore of the fighting with his rifle. Another, he coordinating everyone from the castle.
But it never works. That isn't to say he's a hindrance, exactly - though he definitely is - he does help. It's just...not needed. And it's awkward to figure out, a plan can be made in five minutes and they have to spend an extra twenty deciding where to put Lance. On a hill? In the action? Trapped in the castle? Locked away from it all?
Hunk teaches him the basics of mechanics and he starts fixing up the castle after battles. Pidge sits with him till he can handle some hacking, and he starts sorting out intelligence. He cooks, he cleans, he's a living doll dancing round the castle, a ghost wandering the halls at night. He smiles and laughs and makes fun of himself at all the right times; the others smile and laugh and make fun, too. Nothing is out of the ordinary. Lance's trips at night go unnoticed. He sits in darkened corridors and weeps at everything he's lost and all he'll lose again. He wraps his blankets around him in bed and imagines his family, thinking he's already dead. He locks his bathroom door tight and thinks of all the best ways he could disappear.
He thinks, a few times, that he should hurt himself. Just to feel something again. Anything other than this sadness, this loneliness and his heart cracking every second of every day, shredded into pieces that he could never hope to put back into place. Pain, or anger... Lance misses those.
But cuts on his arm would be so easy to spot. His chest, his thighs... He still trains and he sometimes goes on the ground for missions, he still gets hurt. They still have to take him out his uniform and stuff him in a cryo suit before he can be healed, so they'd spot any cuts then. He doesn't want them to know. It feels so fucking pathetic.
Something else, then. But what? He trains too hard and he hurts himself there. The gladiators shoot him and slash at him and Lance, well, he was never that good a fighter. Not like Keith. Why wouldn't he get hurt? Why would the others even be suspicious? It works for a time, but it's not enough.
He digs his nails too hard into his skin. Runs his hands under boiling hot water for as long as he can. Taunts every alien they come across till there's a weapon at his throat.
The others are fucking pissed at him, but he can't stop himself anymore. Every bitter thought coughs up out his lungs and turns into pure shit out his mouth and he can't stop it, so someone else does. Shiro steps in, or Hunk says his name, or Allura will start speaking loudly over him. They glare daggers at him, his friends nudge him, he cannot shut up. He has to say something. They need to look at him and remember he's there. He has nothing else to win their attention with anymore.
"What is going on, dude?" Hunk finally asks after another meeting with some planet they'd saved, and Lance had started running his mouth off at the feast, something about traditions that didn't make sense, and he knows it was mean and insensitive and shitty but everyone turned and looked at him and suddenly it was like it didn't even matter what he said, so long as they kept fucking looking. Is he so desperate for attention? Are they so ignorant of him?
"Nothing's going on," he says, eyes stiff on the sky ahead of them. Hunk had dragged him up this hill above the city and now they sit, watching the horizon. The sky glows pink as the sun sets. Soon it will be night, and Lance can make constellations out of stars he's never seen before.
"I know you, Lance," Hunk replies, looking at him fiercely. "Something's up. You'd never speak like that to anyone unless you were really upset about something."
"I'm not upset about anything," but how long has Hunk known him? Too long.
"You're lying," and Lance shrugs.
"It doesn't matter," he mutters. "I'm sorry for talking shit, alright? I'll try and cut it out."
"That's not why we're up here. I'm- we're all worried, Lance."
"You're all pretty pissed off at me."
"Yeah, that too. Doesn't change that we know something is up with you. Is it the thing with Blue? Because you asked, Allura would've stepped down-"
"I know!" Lance says, and stands, turns away from the horizon to face the next one, dark navy, already sparkling. God, Lance fucking hates it all. He misses home, where he knew the constellations and stars and planets and could trace them all with his finger, show his siblings, his niece and nephew, anyone who wanted a piece of his time. Back when people used to want that sort of thing. "I know I asked. It was the smart thing to do. She deserved Blue."
"So did you, Lance."
"Not like her. She needed to be a paladin, we all knew it. She's the best pilot out of all of us, even Keith. She's good in any combat situations, she's diplomatic, she's versatile. What the fuck am I in comparison? I'm not as good as the others. I couldn't be a paladin." It's the first time he's said it aloud to someone. He tells himself this simple fact all the time, it is so obvious to him, but Hunk inhales sharply and comes to stand with him.
"Lance," he says, "you're kidding me. You- we- how could we even be a team without you?"
What can he say to that? There are so many answers that Lance gets stuck.
"I mean it, Lance," Hunk says, wrapping an arm round his shoulders and holding him tight. "You're important to us. All of us."
Hunk doesn't lie. Not about things like this.
Still, it sort of feels like a lie. Sounds like it in his ears.
"Lance, please. You deserve to be a paladin. Allura would give it up if you asked her."
"Why the fuck would I do that? I'm not being self-deprecating, I'm being smart. Allura is the best option. I didn't contribute anything, anyway."
"You know that isn't true-!"
But Lance walks away, skids down the hill, disappears into the city walls and pretends he doesn't know the team is looking for him. It takes them hours to find him. He slips away so easily.
--
Days blur into one long, continuous haze. Everything is the same and everything is different. Lance isn't himself, but he isn't not himself. He's just...worse. Like at school and he got bad grades and couldn't get out of bed for a week. Finding out he was a cargo pilot and having panic attacks at night in the bathroom because he was so scared of admitting it to his parents. The first time Blue locked him out and even after Red took him in, he had to ignore everyone for two days before he could process it.
But now it lasts longer, digs deeper. How does he claw himself back up from this? There's nowhere to go. Lost in space, the only way out is...out.
It feels sort of poetic. All Lance ever wanted, all his life, was to get out into space. See what it had to offer. Trace constellations in a ship instead of with his finger.
And he could be with space, really and physically. His ashes mix with its atoms, he becomes stardust. There are airlocks all over the castle. It wouldn't even be hard.
He starts sitting in them and thinking about it. One button, the first door seals shut. Another, and the airlock would be open, and Lance would fly out and become nothing. That's what he deserves. Somethings, sitting here cross-legged examining the buttons, he thinks it must be all he even wants.
Strange, to be scared of death for so long and now regard it as a comfort. He sits in this box and he fights too hard, he still speaks awful words and hurts himself in ways that don't leave marks. It doesn't feel like enough.
He has to do something more.
He gets drunk.
It's a...party, or something, a big feast within the castle for a planet Lance hadn't helped save. Their home is a burning wreck, so Allura invites them onto the castle ship to drink and make merry or...some shit like that, and Lance can't fucking handle it. Can't look at these people thanking him for his work when he did fucking nothing.
He sneaks a bottle of whatever it is out the kitchen and sits in the airlock. Would they even notice, if he pushed the button now? So busy looking after their guests, would it be hours before they even realised he was missing? Would they discover the airlock was open? Would they realise what he'd done, or would they desperately scramble for other solutions, where he's still alive?
He drinks. It's strong, this stuff, burns his throat and brings tears to his eyes and he lets it. What better time to cry than now, when he feels absolutely fucking worthless? He doesn't deserve their gratitude, their kind words. He didn't help. He was stuck in the castle, watching Coran furiously coordinate offence and defence and the lions, and what could Lance do? He still can't even read Altean. He couldn't do anything.
There is something so rotten about him, so ugly and deformed and bad. He wishes he could be bright and pure and sweet like Allura or Hunk, but he isn't. He isn't.
He downs half the bottle before anyone finds him. He's surprised they were so fast, in fact, but when he realises it's Keith, he's a little less surprised. Keith doesn't seem like he's interested in parties.
He isn't drinking anything. He wanders past and then doubles back and looks in, sees Lance, and comes in.
"Lance," he says, frowning first at the bottle then his face, "what are you doing here?"
He sits beside him, brows twisted and mouth tight and worried. He's still in his paladin uniform, hair tied back out his face. Looks like a real fucking hero. Unattainably perfect. Despite his defects - impulsive, hot-tempered, acts instead of thinks - he's still such a good person that Lance can't handle it. Can't look at him, from the bottom of this hole he's dug himself into, this grave he's throwing himself into, and not acknowledge how fucking angelic Keith is in comparison to him.
It hurts to think about Keith. Perfect, in class and in Voltron, kind, stoic but still silly sometimes, and every time Lance sees that silliness his heart grows a little bigger, the pool of love in his heart gets a little deeper. Maybe the night you're attempting suicide is a bad time to admit your feelings for your fellow paladin.
Still, with Keith looking at him with his steady eyes and composed, full mouth, Lance can't help but realise: life is going to suck without you.
Not that he's living much longer.
"I was thinking," Lance says, driven to honesty by alcohol, "about killing myself."
"Yeah, alright," Keith says, huffing out a laugh, but his eyes stick, his humour fades. Lance drinks. "Please tell me you're joking."
"Why would I make jokes," Lance says, staring down at the bottle. It's all in Altean. "I'm not funny."
"...Lance," Keith says slowly, and his fingers curl into the legs of his suit. "You're not being serious, are you?"
"Why would I be serious," Lance replies, and hates the sound of his own fucking voice as he speaks. "I'm a big fucking joke."
"You- what were you planning to do?!"
"I was going to open the airlock. I thought it was poetic." Out the corner of his eye, he sees Keith shut his eyes, but he says nothing, so Lance continues: "I've been thinking about it for a while now. Anything else would leave a mess to clean up. Even if I tried to have a heroic death battling the enemy, you'd still have to collect my body. What would you do with it? What if you tried to keep it till you could return me to Earth? That's sick," Lance says, and his voice cracks. "Just shoot me out into space. Where I'll just be nothing."
"Why are you... Do you... H-how long have you been thinking about this?"
"...I don't know." It feels like forever at this point. "A long time."
"Why didn't you...tell anyone?"
He drinks again. It is light on his tongue and yet so heavy down his throat; it burns through his brain, his thoughts scatter. "Why bother. No one gives a shit."
"Lance, I- we all give a shit! You can't just say that-!"
"It doesn't matter. I don't belong here. I don't fit in. I'm just some...extra piece that no one needs. I can't do anything like the rest of you. I don't have any special talent. I'm just stupid and cocky and shit. It'd be easier if I just died. Then no one would have to waste their time on me."
"Time with you is never wasted."
"Stop lying to me."
"I'm not lying! How can you think we don't value you?"
"Because you don't!" He gets up, downs the rest of the bottle. "None of you give a shit about me! I'm just a big fucking joke to all of you! Someone to make fun of constantly! Like you have any idea how I feel! And you could never fucking understand how it feels, fucking star fighter pilot, black paladin, perfect fucking asshole! And I'm the idiot everyone wishes would just fucking disappear! Well I'm fucking trying to!" He stills, takes a breath. The world outside this box is so black and starry, so perfect to get lost in.
But Keith's here. Perfect, beautiful, sweet Keith who Lance can't believe he's embarrassing himself like this in front of. But Keith is not only unattainably perfect- he's unattainable. It hurts to look at him, but Lance isn't about to kill Mr Fucking Perfect just because he's a useless asshole.
He swings his hand down where he'd just sat, and the bottle shatters.
"I just," Lance says, his voice breaking again, "I wanted to see my family again," and Keith's eyes widen, he jumps to his feet, tries to grab Lance before he can bring the bottle shard down on his own arm.
But he isn't fast enough. As time slows, Lance knows he'll only get one shot at this; Keith is fast, strong, won't let him get another hit. He drags the shard long and deep down his wrist, blood spurting, fumbles to swap the shard to his other hand and nicks at his left wrist before Keith grabs his arms and starts yelling.
It isn't what he wanted. If he goes out like this, his body will still be here, tainting the castle. He wanted to become one with the stars. It is so much better than...this. Falling to the ground, blood down his arm, against his chest, the denim of his jeans. Keith's face, floating in and out of his vision, brows high and horrified, eyes wide, mouth gaping, yelling words Lance cannot hear.
He passes out as Keith presses a palm against his cheek.
--
Sitting in the infirmary, Keith can only shake. Shake, and not cry, because god knows he's cried enough. Sobbed out Lance's name and cried out down the corridors for help, and wept out replies when the others asked what the hell happened...and what the hell did happen? Keith wandered past an airlock and saw Lance drinking alone, decided to check on him. How was he supposed to know all that would happen? He didn't even realise Lance felt so bad about himself, let alone that he was suicidal. That Lance wasn't sitting there for isolation, but because with a press of a button, he could be jettisoned out into space, into certain death.
While they were out celebrating another win, Lance was thinking about killing himself.
It's so fucking awful Keith just can't comprehend it. No one can. Pidge and Hunk can't stop crying either, and Shiro is pacing back and forth, hands in his hair, and Allura is shaking her head, hands held tightly in Coran's. How are they supposed to make sense of this? How were they supposed to know? Lance, he always smiled and laughed and joked along when people made fun of him- it wasn't even making fun of him! It was- people called Lance an idiot because he played the fool! Not because he was one! They're not idiots! They know Lance is important!
...But did Lance know they knew that? Clearly not, which is how they're in this...unreal situation.
At least no one's asked him to move. He's sat curled up on the ground outside Lance's healing pod, and he couldn't move if he wanted. He can't stop staring at Lance, grey-palloured, blood on his clothes. The same blood that's on Keith's hands, on his clothes, his skin. The broken bottle is still in that airlock. Keith hadn't known what to do with it; all he could think of was Lance, bleeding out and unconscious, his last words echoing round Keith's brain, impossible to ignore.
The worst thing is...Keith thought Lance was joking. That Lance had been drinking too much and making the kinds of jokes no one usually should; but Keith had looked at him and found no hint of a smile or mischievous glint in the eyes. Lance was serious. Lance had been sitting there, thinking about killing himself.
Lance.
Keith just can't get his head around it no matter how hard he tries.
Allura says Lance won't take long in the pod. A few hours, at most. He didn't lose that much blood. He really one scraped down one wrist, although the other was still a little damaged. He wasn't even that close to death, even though it felt like it.
They've been waiting an hour, at least. It had taken a while for them to clear out the castle; Allura had called an emergency and quickly but patiently ushered their guests back out. Coran dealt with Lance, and the rest of them stayed mostly in the infirmary, incapable of leaving.
Eventually, Hunk sits beside him. "I can't believe this," he whispers, and his voice is just destroyed, raw from crying, from utter grief. "I'm his best friend. I should've known."
"None of us knew," Keith replies, and his voice is just as bad, a shadow of how he normally speaks. "We- we had no idea."
"I did! You think this is the first time this has happened?!"
Keith's eyes blow wide. "It isn't?!"
Hunk shakes his head slowly, stares up at Lance in the healing pod. "Couple nights after he found out he was a cargo pilot he tried to jump off the garrison roof."
"You're- that was Lance?"
A nod. "I just- I should've known. That everything would be worse. Losing Blue... Leaving his family... He isn't even medicated, but- everything was going fine, a-and there was so much other shit going on, that I, I-I..."
"Fuck," Keith breathes. "He was on medication?"
Hunk nods. "I knew- I should've told somebody. We could've found him something, or gone back to Earth, got his prescription, I..." Hunching over, Hunk's face drop to his waiting hands and his sobs begin anew, shoulders shaking with the force of an earthquake. Keith hesitates for a long, terrifying moment before wrapping his arm around Hunk's bulky shoulders, nodding against him.
"It's not your fault," Keith says, and resists saying it's our fault. All of them. There are six whole other people on this ship, how did none of them notice Lance was in such a state? Are they really so ignorant of him? Is Lance such an incredible actor?
And what if Keith hadn't been there? What if, hours later when the castle was cleared, they realised Lance was gone? Would they see the empty airlock and know what he had done? Would they check the Blue Lion was still there, the number of pods still the same? How long would it have taken for them to realise Lance had committed suicide? Keith worries he wouldn't have reached that conclusion at all.
Hunk won't speak anymore. Pidge sits by Hunk, curls into his huge frame and turns their face into Hunk's chest, and Keith thinks if he were a little less socially awkward he might do the same thing. But he can't. He can only sit, and stare, and ache. Lance almost died. Lance has wanted to take his own life for who knows how long - is it depression, or something else? Hunk mentioned medication. Has Lance really spent all this time in the sky and not brought it up to them? Why? Did he feel capable without it? Did he think they'd mock him for needing it? Did he not want to cause them trouble?
His mind runs in circles, Keith's brain is an asteroid field of whats ifs that he is no longer agile enough to manoeuvre through. What if they'd known? What if Lance has gotten medication? What if he'd told them? What if Hunk told them? What if he killed himself? What if he's already tried?
Aside from trying at the garrison.
What if he's tried before that?
How old was he when he got medication?
How shitty was life before that?
Shiro can't even comfort him. Shiro, he- he must understand most of all. He was different when he returned from the galra. And he was never normal before that - Keith still remembers sitting outside the bathroom door, listening to Shiro facetime his parents in Japan about some kid he'd picked up who was now like a brother to him, and how sometimes that felt like his only reason to keep going. Does he understand acutely how Lance feels? Is he blaming himself? Thinks he should've seen the signs? He keeps pacing the room, head in his hands, in the past hour alone he's had to leave the room three times with Coran or Allura because he's worked himself into a panic.
But Keith can't move, can't comfort him, and Shiro cannot comfort him, and Allura is clearly completely shook to her core - keeps looking at them all, silently asking how could this happen?, staring at Lance in the cryopod with wide eyes, staring through Lance, questioning, perhaps, where the hell she went wrong.
Coran, at least, is keeping an eye on her and Shiro both. He leaves the three of them before Lance alone, maybe thinks they're keeping a handle on themselves, or that them sitting together provides enough comfort that they're not as much a threat as Shiro and Allura.
A few more hours drift past. Shiro calms down very slowly, or at least, panics a little less than before. He keeps pacing, but he stops trying to tear his hair out his skull. Allura leans onto Coran and he wraps an arm round her waist, takes on her weight without complaint.
Shiro, eventually, sits behind them, leaning against Hunk's back, who reaches back and pats Shiro's shoulder but says nothing more.
When the pod door opens, they all jump to their feet- Keith wants to run and grab Lance first, but he's still scared of the way Lance didn't look at him when they spoke, the blood still on his clothes, what Lance will say when the dizziness wears off.
In the end, Hunk grabs him in a full-body bear hug, squeezing his arms tight round Lance's torso and digging his head into Lance's shoulder, weeping, shoulders shaking. "I love you, you idiot!" Hunk cries. "I love you so much I might die without you! You mean the fucking world to me!"
Lance has nothing to say to that, and Pidge tugging at Hunk finally pries him off Lance, only for Pidge to grab him and press their face into Lance's chest. "I love you, too," Pidge says, and like this, it's easy to see Lance's faintly startled expression, the way he looks down at them, looks over at them all. "If you ever do something like that I'll kill you myself." Understanding slowly washes over his face, and he frowns, checks the underside of his wrist. Keith can see the gleam of a newly-healed scar there.
"Huh," Lance says, and looks back up at them. "I was drunk?"
"Lance," Allura says, and finally runs over, hurls her arms round his neck and pressing her forehead to his shoulder, Pidge squeezing Lance extra tight before extricating themself from the situation. "You should've told us. Said something- Lance, when Keith told us what you were s-saying..." She can't continue, breaking into sobs, and Lance's arms, slowly, comes round her waist. "You are important to the team," she says when she's able. "You have no idea, when you're in a healing pod, how qu-quiet it gets here, how sad everyone is- without you, wh-what are we supposed to do? I don't think anyone would be happy without you."
"I-I..." Lance can only look at them with wide eyes, searching them for something no one else understands. "I didn't realise... I didn't realise."
"Oh, Lance," Coran says, marching over and sweeping both Allura and Lance in his arms. "Of course you're important to us. All of us."
They pretend not to notice when his shoulders shake, and he has to take a moment to rub at his eyes when he lets go.
When they let go, Lance takes the steps down from the pod to be on the same level, Coran keeping a hand on his shoulder and Hunk hovering near.
"If- if you'd just said something," Shiro finally bursts out, coming forward then stopping a few steps from Lance, hands balled up and eyes desperate. "We could've- we would've- I- I- Lance, I would've done anything! If you'd just said, and- we could've talked, we could've, we could've- I had- I had a psychiatrist, Lance, I could've told you how to- deal with- could've-" Then Shiro breaks down again, collapsing inward, and Lance's eyes fly wide again and he hurries over, puts a careful arm round Shiro's shoulders and the other on his waist, resting his chin on Shiro's shoulder.
"It's okay, buddy," Lance says. "I didn't tell anyone. I didn't- I thought-" He sighs. "It's only because I was drunk."
"No it's not," Hunk mutters fiercely, and Lance's shoulders slump. "You should've told me- I would've... We could've worked it out together."
"I thought you were all better off," Lance says, and despite the ache in his eyes his voice is matter-of-fact. "I don't pilot a lion. I don't know Altean or the ship's controls. Every plan takes ages to make because no one knows where to put me. I don't- I don't have a thing, I'm not a genius and I can't make things, I'm not an amazing fighter, I'm not a good leader, I'm not important like the rest of you. The only reason I could think to live was for my family, but...sometimes it feels like we're never going back to Earth."
"Do you need to go back to Earth?" Hunk asks frantically. "We can go back to Earth, can't we? Allura? Can't we go back? For one day- pick up his prescription- if he sees his family again- Lance, your mom is gonna lose her shit-"
"Fuck, I know," Lance says, with an almost-laugh. "I thought, third time's the charm, right? But I guess now it just means she'll really kick my ass, huh."
"Third time," Keith says, the first thing he's said this whole time. Hunk's cracked up smile drops; Pidge swallows. "The third time?"
Shiro pulls back from Lance, keeps a hand on his arm. "Third time," he echoes, and Lance just nods.
"First time," he says, "was the garrison thing. Remember?" Expression stony, Hunk nods.
"What garrison thing?"
"Just a couple years ago," Lance says. "I got cargo pilot, and I wasn't medicated, so it- it was bad. Tried to jump off the roof. I'm the reason they have health and safety regulations at all up there."
"Who- why didn't you jump?" Keith asks, fascinated and horrified.
"I stopped him," Hunk says quietly. "Facetimed his mom and everything. Called the cops, got the school security... Even if he jumped, at that point someone would've caught him."
"Next time, my brother Federico died. It's a bad... I was home, and- everyone was home, and it was a big night out, I got shitfaced, Federico was hauling me home and a driver swerved on the road. Drunk. Federico died instantly, I got a broken leg. When I went home I OD'd on my medication...but my- my niece found me. And when I didn't respond, she got my sister..." Lance sighs, drops his gaze to the floor, clearly ashamed. "It was the worst... I couldn't be near my medication, they put me on therapy for months, but...at the garrison, it's pretty limited."
"One shitty counsellor," Shiro confirms with a wry, heartbreaking smile. "I drove out to the city."
"I had your meds," Hunk mumbles. "Had to facetime your mom every time you took them. It was..."
"Bad," Lance mutters. "But hey, this is worse, right? We're all in the middle of a life-or-death war with a ten thousand year old army of space fascists, where death applies not only to ourselves but every other planet in the galaxy, and the first thing I decide to do is kill myself, right?" He scoffs, shakes his head. "Crown me space king of shitty ideas, huh? Guess that's how I got to the point."
"We're taking you to Earth," Shiro says, looking a little blindsided. "Right?"
He looks at Allura, who stares at Lance with pinched brows before nodding. "Yes, yes- I'll set a track immediately. I'll- or- should I-"
"I'll set it up," Coran murmurs. "It will take a few vargas. Why don't we all rest while we can, and I'll alert you when we're close?"
"Alright," Allura says, voice still shaky. "Yes, that's- yes, everyone to bed. Lance-"
"Will stay with me. Right, Lance?"
Lance manages a tiny smile. "Just like old times, huh, buddy?"
Hunk tears up immediately. "Yup," he says, voice cracking, and he grabs Lance by the waist and hides his face in Lance's shoulder again before they start to leave.
"Wait-" Keith says, then stops himself. "No, I mean- I'll walk with you."
Leaving Pidge and Allura to speak quietly for a moment in the infirmary, Keith hurries over to Lance's other side, where he throws a wondering look over at him.
"I-I," Keith says, "I wanted to say- I'm glad you're alive. W-when I saw you in the airlock- I didn't even realise-" The more he says, the more choked up with tears he gets, until they're spilling down his cheeks.
"It's been bad," Hunk murmurs to Lance. "He's really upset, you know."
"Uh- I'm sorry, Keith. I didn't mean to- I mean, I was drunk. And you- were just there."
"I was so scared-"
"I'm sorry," Lance says again, and takes Keith in his arms, sets every nerve alight and calms down every panic at once. Keith just grapples at his shoulders for a moment before soaking Lance's cryosuit with his tears, and he feels Hunk's hand on his shoulder, too, gentle murmuring in the background.
Keith can't say anything more as they walk back to their rooms, Hunk and Lance branching off together as Keith goes, alone, back to his. He changes into his nightwear - t-shirt and boxers, it's a simple life - and sits on top of his bed, trembling, for exactly two minutes before he grabs his duvet and runs out, nearly knocking into Pidge in the corridor. They're wearing an oversized jumper and shorts, clutching their pillow and duvet, and they look at Keith for a minute, sees the tears mirrored in his eyes, and nods.
"I was okay for a minute," Pidge says as they hurry down the corridor together, "but then I kept- seeing him on the floor, blood on his wr-wrists-"
"I know," Keith says, "I kept hearing his last words. That he wanted to see h-his family-"
"God," Pidge says, and they rap their knuckles on Hunk's door until it slides open, Hunk groggy at the door.
"Dudes," he says when he sees their extra gear. "Alright, come on in."
In the bed, Lance rolls over to see them, frowning. He's in baggy sweatpants and one of Hunk's t-shirts, and despite being bigger than Keith and Pidge both, it manages to make him look small, and scared. It hurts Keith's heart to see it, rubs some previously-unknown vein raw.
"My bed is not big enough," Hunk says, and yanks Lance off it before grabbing the mattress and putting it on the floor. "Lance and I get the mattress, you two fight."
And they do. Lance hops down on the mattress while Hunk gets the pillow and blankets, and when Hunk starfishes on the bed, Lance just rolls on top of him, legs tangled, head comfy on Hunk's expansive chest. Pidge sees this, and uses Hunk as a mattress, too, taking up the space Lance doesn't fill, wrapping their arms round Lance and Hunk.
Keith, ever the odd one out, just stands as Pidge fixes the blanket around themself.
"Oh, for god's sake," Pidge mutters, and shifts so instead of lying on top of Hunk, they lie pressed against his side. "Get down here."
Keith takes the new space up on Hunk, and feels like crying as he sinks into the softness of Hunk, as Lance wraps an arm round his waist and Pidge grabs his hand, and Hunk lets out a laugh they can all feel down to their bones.
When Allura and Shiro pitch up, taking opposite sides of the mattress and setting down their blankets, Hunk only sighs. "Goodnight, assholes," he says. "Except you, Lance. You're an angel and we're delighted to have you here."
Lance laughs, and Keith feels it beside him, presses his face closer to Lance's shoulder. If he had been too late - hadn't gone at all - Lance wouldn't be here. They wouldn't all be piled up in Hunk's room in the aftermath of an almost-tragedy, a not-quite-happy ending. Coran wouldn't be steering them home.
But Lance is laughing, if only for a second, and Pidge is beginning to snore next to Hunk, and Allura's space mice have heaped up behind her head as they rest, also.
And it is not a happy ending, but it is not a tragedy.