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It’s a little bit like this: watching yourself grow distant from the team that’s your family is hard. Watching them pair off and grow closer to each other as you drift, lost and adrift in your own struggle to find somewhere you fit in, is hard. Watching the two best friends you had grow closer to each other and start to forget you, start to forget your own intelligence, the things you could contribute to them, is harder. Watching the woman you fell in love with fall in love with someone else, watching her heart be shattered to pieces, watching your mentor turn out to be someone you never knew at all, watching as the last member of your group turns into himself to cope - that’s harder than anything Lance has ever done.
But none of it compares to watching Keith walk away from him.
None of it compares to watching Keith’s back for years, knowing that he’d never be good enough to catch up to Keith.
It can’t compare, not when Lance thought he finally had a chance, finally a connection with someone, someone to watch his back and know what he needed - after all, Lance had always been good at giving Keith what he needed.
Whether that be the edge of a competitive push or the first to support the Black Lion’s decision, Lance had always been good at giving Keith exactly the push he needed, and stepping back to watch Keith perform.
Lance thought he’d escaped that for a while, when he first moved to Red, and he and Keith worked out the rough edges of their friendship into something that had settled in Lance’s chest.
That had been around when Lance had realized that the low burning feelings in his chest that he’d always carried around for Keith might be something much more than platonic . But Keith hadn’t needed a romantic partner then - had been too hung up on the loss of Shiro, the footsteps to fill, the responsibilities to take on,
Keith had needed him to be a right-hand-man, and so Lance had become that. Quite literally.
He’d focused his attention on Allura, trying to forget the feelings that sparked whenever he saw Keith - sitting in the lounge, coming out of training, or even after a mission with the Blades. Keith didn’t need him like that, and he likely never would need Lance like that.
And Lance was trying not to put the weight of his emotions onto Keith anyway.
But Keith left them anyway. Left Lance anyway, leaving Lance unmoored and adrift. His dynamic with Shiro had never matched up - Lance had never been what Shiro needed, not really. He’d never been Keith, and Lance had always lived with that knowledge. That he’d never be Keith, he’d never be as good as Keith was.
But Lance had watched his family drift away from him, feet stuck somewhere in between a rock and the sea, unable to chase after them. He watched them through a filter, like his helmet had sealed around him and Lance couldn’t get it to open, couldn’t get his friends to spare him a glance or his space-family to give him the push he needed.
He’d been lost.
And then Keith had come back.
Keith’s dismissal of him had hurt. Lance had no delusions about where he and Keith stood, knew that Keith would never love him in the way Lance loved him, but Lance still considered them friends. Still considered them close, still considered Keith his best friend when there wasn’t anyone else listening to him but the patient purr of the Red Lion in the back of his mind.
Lance had learned quickly that Keith didn’t even see him as that.
The roadtrip home was awkward. Keith didn’t know how to fit into the group dynamic anymore, and he chose to watch more often than not, sitting next to his mother, Kosmo by his feet. He watched Lance stay quiet by the edge of the fire, poking it sometimes to keep the sparks going, not contributing.
Keith felt like he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere, and ended up in a world he didn’t recognize.
Lance hadn’t been this quiet before Keith left, hadn’t been so alone and subdued. Keith didn’t know what changed, and he doubted the rest of the team did either - it was easy to get caught up in the stresses of their lives and not see when someone was pulling away from them.
But Keith had always seen the parts of Lance that Lance never wanted any of them to see.
He’d seen the homesickness, the antagonism pushed forward by fear. He’d seen Lance’s rough edges, watched them smooth as he and Keith learned to work together.
He’d seen Lance flourish in the red-painted lights of the Red Lion’s cockpit, flushing his face a beautiful shade of pink.
Keith knew Lance had so much more. Watching him pull away from them was confusing to say the least.
And Keith didn’t know how to deal with it. How to fit himself back into a group dynamic he’d never really felt a part of, not when the person that had pushed him to try was pulling away from them now.
So he got up, stretching his arms high above his body and pretending not to see Lance looking away with a pink flush to his cheeks. He made his excuses, stepping away from the group and into the foliage of the abandoned planet, leaving behind his armor and helmet - as far as they all knew, this planet didn’t have any sentient species. Keith should be fine.
Well, Keith should’ve been fine. Keith had a long-running tendency of walking into situations and the situations immediately turning out to be not fine.
Maybe he should’ve remembered that when he was walking into an unknown forest alone. Maybe he should’ve especially remembered that when he’d felt some bug land on his neck and the twinge of a bug bite, hand raising up to squish the bug before it could do any more damage. Maybe he should’ve definitely remembered that when he decided to lay down, looking up at stars that were unfamiliar at best, and unrecognizable at most.
But Keith didn’t.
And he let his vision fade away, looking up at the stars and trusting them to watch over him.
Keith didn’t recognize anything was wrong with him, not until the morning had risen and he’d walked back to camp. His mother had spotted him first, and reacted before Keith even knew what his body was doing - moving to disarm and then pin him to the ground quickly enough that Keith knew that he’d never be able to hurt anyone.
Keith couldn’t see the pink, puffy skin around his eyes, or the way his eyes had turned an eerie yellow shade. He couldn’t see anything except his family, and know in the back of his mind that he was struggling not to hurt them.
Keith didn’t want to hurt them.
He loved them.
They were his family. Voltron was his family. Why would he want to hurt them?
But when Krolia let him up, Keith couldn’t stop the feral snarl from crossing his face as he lunged for Shiro next, the older man knocking him clean onto his back and holding him down. Keith hadn’t learned his fighting from just anywhere, and Shiro had always been able to read Keith better than most people.
Most people, not including a pair of blue eyes watching Keith right then as he struggled in Shiro’s arms.
It was Coran who figured out what had happened, looking through their limited resources on the planet and finding the bug that had bitten Keith. The effects of the bite would wear off on it’s own, Keith no longer feeling some foreign impulse to attack and hurt and kill the people he loved for no reason. They just had to wait it out.
But it had been Lance’s idea to send Keith back into the forest.
It made sense, tragically. They couldn’t very well keep Keith around them, not with the master spy training. The Lions were dangerous, especially if Keith started piloting one of them when still under the influence of the bug. There weren’t many other options than locking themselves in their Lions and watching Keith walk into the forest.
And with the rest of the team so hung up on figuring out what was up with Keith, none of them really noticed Lance slipping away from them, following Keith into the forest.
It took Keith twenty dobashes to notice his tail. Lance had gotten better when sneaking around, a trait necessary for a sharpshooter and a sniper.
When he noticed, Keith wasted no time in making space between himself and Lance, hands curling into the bark of a tree to keep from hurting Lance.
Keith couldn’t help the growl that slipped into his voice when he looked at Lance, even as he warred with himself. Keeping himself from attacking Lance was harder than keeping himself from attacking the rest of the team. Keith wanted to pretend that he didn’t know why. Keith knew why.
“What are you doing here, Lance?”
Lance gave him a wry smile, one hand curled loosely around his bayard - he hadn’t been stupid enough to follow Keith completely undefended, not when Keith had his Marmora blade and his bayard to keep him safe in the forest. “Keeping an eye on you, my beautiful Mullet man, why, of course.”
Keith couldn’t help the snort, or the way his fingers dug into the bark of the tree more, leaving scrapes and blisters in his palms. “You do know I’ve been bit, right? I’m attacking anyone I love? You should leave. Running, preferably.”
Lance’s smile turned a bit bitter at that. “Exactly why I’m perfect to accompany you, Keithy-boy.” He didn’t elaborate.
It left Keith floored.
“What?” He couldn’t just let it go. Not that easily. Not when he could see the sudden hunch in Lance’s shoulder, the pain in his eyes. “Why wouldn’t it make me attack you?”
The tree was splintering under Keith’s hands.
Lance snorted and raised an eyebrow. “Please, I’m perfect to keep an eye out for you. I’ll stay with you until the bite runs its course, and you won’t attack anyone that you really love. I’ll be fine.”
Lance’s voice trailed off at the creaking of the tree under Keith’s hands. Something in his posture shifted, his face paling.
He looked back at Keith.
Keith set his jaw, even as one hand slipped free and reached for his Blade. “Exactly, Lance. Run .”
Lance watched the desperation in Keith’s eyes, the way the tree fractured under his hands. “No… you… you don’t… you don’t…”
He took a step back as Keith took a step forward, bayard in hand but falling to the side. “You don’t.”
Keith’s eyes flashed a familiar yellow. “ Run, Lance .”
Lance turned.
Lance ran.