#lagnst

I was doing a little writing warm-up and it kinda got away from me. Whoops. Anyway, here’s a little post S8 Klance thing. I honestly don’t know what it is or where it came from. So...hope you enjoy:

Empty eyes stared without seeing at the rippling clear water in front of him. He was far enough away to not see his reflection, but close enough to observe the way it ebbed and flowed, continuously disturbed by the falling streams that were pumped towards the sky before plunging back down to the surface. The smell of chlorine permeated the air. It wasn’t an unpleasant scent, but rather it seemed out of place compared to the foliage of the rest of the park.

The steady rumble that came from the fountain drowned out all other sounds that should have been present. He couldn’t hear the birds that perched in the few trees situated close by. He couldn’t hear the voices of the people that passed, either on their way to who-knows-where or simply stopping in the park to enjoy the warm autumn afternoon. He couldn’t even hear his own heartbeat which would be strange if not for the relief he found in its absence. He was content with not knowing its pace.

Despite the churning surface of the water, he could see the bottom of the fountain. Bronze and silver specs shifted and swayed to the cadence of the water. He knew they weren’t really moving, but the dance they appeared to be doing helped to steady his mind. He imagined what it would be like to reach in and grab a fistful of the coins. The feeling of damp metal in his palm. The sound of the metallic pieces scraping against each other. The guilt of having stolen the wishes placed so delicately upon each coin.

He would never do that, though. Steal wishes. Not when he himself had deposited so many into the very same fountain he had been standing in front of for the better part of an hour. Instead, he remained still, stuck between wanting to release another wish onto the world and wanting to keep it close to his heart. The only outwardly sign of his indecisiveness was his left hand which trembled, tightening around the small copper coin that he had brought with him.

He could still remember the first wish he had made at this fountain. He could remember the way his nerves twisted up inside him, a foreign type of anxiety eating away at him. He could remember how hard it was to release the coin, to let go and hope that the universe would do the rest. He could remember the regret as he walked away, leaving the coin to rest amongst the others below the surface. He had felt like a failure. Like he couldn’t solve his own problems. He remembered promising himself that he would never go back, that he would never make another wish.

He had lost count of the wishes he had given up to the fountain.

And here he was again, preparing to throw another one away. And while it was always hard...while it always left him with a new hole in his chest, this time it felt like it might rip his whole heart out.

Because this time he wasn’t just letting go of a single wish, he was letting go of a whole person.

It was time. He had known that for awhile. She wasn’t coming back. She was gone. There was no getting around that. And the longer he held on, the worse it was going to get. The time for turning the page and starting a new chapter was over. He needed to close the book. Completely and entirely. Once and for all.

This was his goodbye.

“Your mom said I might find you here.”

He wouldn’t have heard the voice if it hadn’t been coming from right next to him. He hadn’t even noticed that someone had come up beside him. But it wasn’t as if he was surprised. It had always been in the raven-haired boys nature to appear when he was needed, be it in combat or emotional support.

“Well, she was right. I’m here.” He replied, his tone just loud enough to hear over the rumble of the water. He didn’t bother to look at his companion, blue eyes remaining fixed on the fountain. “I thought you were still off-planet.”

“Just got back. I’m between missions right now so I decided to take a little break. Check back to see how Earth was doing and all that.” The raven-haired boy answered, his voice carrying the same seriousness it always did. The kind of seriousness that was unpredictable yet reliable. The seriousness of a leader.

“The universe still saved?”

“Last I checked. Don’t worry, I didn’t come here to pull you out of retirement.”

“Then why are you here, Keith?” It wasn’t a hostile question, but rather an honest sort of curiosity.

The raven-haired boy was silent for a minute and both stood listening to the rush of water. It was a comfortable silence. One filled with years of companionship and trust. Finally, he said, “Because I had this feeling that I needed to see you. Can’t really explain it. Just seemed like where I needed to be right now.”

That caused blue eyes to shift for the first time, gaze turning to meet indigo. They were the same eyes that he had seen a million times before in a million different situations. They were the same eyes that held a fierce determination while rushing into battle whether it be on foot or in a lion. They were the same eyes that watched the desert sunset, taking in the beauty that Earth had to offer. They were the same eyes that watched the universe learn to stand back up on its feet.

And yet…

They were different. There was something in them that he had never seen, something mysterious yet so familiar. And whatever it was, it seemed to alleviate some of weight from his shoulders. It seemed to calm the rising tide of hurt and pain that was swelling in his chest. It seemed to take his heart and hold it in place.

“So what’s your wish?” The raven-haired boy asked, nodding his head towards the fountain. “That’s why you came here, right? To make a wish?”

By some miracle, he was able to find his voice. “I can’t tell you that. It won’t come true.”

“Do you want it to come true?”

“Yeah...I think I do...” And it was true. Moments ago he would have given anything to get her back. He would have traveled to the ends of the universe if it meant he could see her again. But now...now he wasn’t so sure. Something had brought the raven-haired boy here today. Some card had been played. Some chance had been taken. And while he didn’t fully understand it, he felt like he was almost getting permission to move on. To move forward.

“Well, I have a wish.” The raven-haired boy said, fishing a penny out of his jacket pocket. “But I’ll only make it if you make yours.”

“You’re not afraid? To wish, I mean.”

The raven-haired boy shrugged. “Not really. A wish is just like asking for a little help, don’t you think? It doesn’t change whether or not the thing will happen. That’s your decision to make.”

“My decision?” He asked, grip loosening around the coin still in his hand.

The raven-hair boy gave a nod. “Yep. If you think it’s time to let her go, then you will. The wish will make it just a little easier.”

“Wait, how did you…?”

“Lucky guess.” The raven-haired boy replied with a small smile.

“You really think some silly wish will make moving on easier?” He asked, a slight shake to his voice. He could feel water start to build on the edges of his vision. He didn’t try to blink it away.

“I do. It might not be obvious though.” The raven-haired boy let out a small chuckle, eyes shining with amusement. “Maybe someone new will come along. Or maybe someone you already knew will feel some weird urge to come see you.”

“Seems a little far-fetched, don’t you think?” He asked, a single tear escaping and running down his cheek despite the half-smile that appeared on his face.

“It could happen...but you won’t know until you make your wish.”

Blue eyes turned back to the fountain, finding that the thought of throwing his penny in didn’t seem so heavy, so world-ending. Letting her go didn’t mean she was gone. It just meant that he was ready to take the next step and the one after that and the one after that. And when he really thought about it, that’s what she would want. She wasn’t coming back and for the first time, he was okay with that.

Because maybe...just maybe...he had found someone that could fill the hole she had left.

“Same time?” He asked, holding up his penny for the raven-haired boy to see. “On the count of three?”

“Count of three.”

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three.”

He watched as the two copper pennies flew through the air, gleaming under the afternoon sun. They fell almost soundlessly into the fountain, breaking the surface of the water for only a moment before it returned to its usual churning motion. They were suspended for a second before hitting the bottom, only a few inches between the two.

The usual regretful ache was nowhere to be found as blue eyes stared at the two pennies. Instead, he found a lightness had filled him, a certain relief that he hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for.

“Think it’ll come true?” He asked, a soft smile on his face.

“I think it already has.” Came the reply, the raven-haired boy’s voice far gentler than he had ever heard it before.

Blue eyes once again met indigo. “What’d you wish for?”

The raven-haired boy shook his head slightly. “I can’t tell you, Lance. It won’t come true.”

(season 3, set after ep2, before ep6, panic attack warning)

Lance takes a moment to breathe. And then another.

It feels harder than it should, but then again, most things still do after Shiro’s disappearance.

And while some things were by far easier than others, like talking to Hunk, joking with the team, and flying Blue, others were weighing him down in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

Lance knows that if he doesn’t get his breathing under control in a couple of seconds, he might end up having a panic attack, and he really doesn’t want to have to deal with that right now.

Not on top of everything else.

Not on top of being rejected by Black, rejected by Blue, replaced by Allura, and being, in a way, forced to take on Red. Not on top of accepting Keith’s new position, or knowing that they had absolutely no idea where Shiro was, or not knowing when the next time he would see his family again, if ever, would be. Or that the Galra had gotten themselves a new asshole to rule over in the shape of Zarkon’s son.

Just. . . Lance didn’t need this.

But his lungs didn’t seem to take that into account. Neither did his heart rate, as a matter of fact.

He’s in his room, thank god. He’d barely been in here a couple of minutes before he had noticed the conscious struggle building in his throat, and now, he sits on his bed, awkwardly fidgeting his fingers for something to do.

His breathing accelerates even more, and Lance tries to focus. Tries to calm down.

But he can’t. Deep in his chest – where that comforting purr that had kept him going and fighting had been for the last who knows how long time that they’d been in space – there’s nothing.

Lance hadn’t known how much he’d relied on that feeling Blue gave him. That confidence, that in more than a million ways, was much more real than what Lance used most of the time to keep his own energized and exuberant persona up.

Lance stands, hoping the blood rushing from his head can distract him from the onslaught of unwelcome thoughts and the pain of Blue being gone. It doesn’t.  

Sure, he could sense the tingling’s of Red at his fingertips, shy and grounding, but the feeling is almost painful. His connection with Red right now feels like he’s being pulled from all sides in a tug of war, as if the lion had latched on and refused to let him go, but was still trying to come to terms with the situation itself.

He knows what he said to Blue before stands true. Truer than a whole lot of things he’s said – like, ever.  . .

That this situation royally sucks. That no matter what Lance wants, he doesn’t choose what he gets.

And this, this situation, its overwhelmingly familiar, which is why Lance can’t take it anymore. He wants to be able to be there for Keith, Allura, the rest of the team, to prove himself, but he knows. He knows that if he doesn’t take this time to himself right now to calm down and think it all through he won’t be able to handle it. He won’t be able to help anyone, useless seventh wheel or not.

Lance grabs his pillow off his bed and throws it as hard as he can into the wall across the room. He gasps, but it doesn’t feel like any oxygen is traveling into his airways and down his lungs. He holds his breath, unwilling to become a gasping, shaking mess. He doesn’t need this right now.

But it isn’t about what he wants, or what he needs, he thinks bitterly. It never has been.

Ever since the Garrison. Even before, but Lance misses his family too much to think of them in anguish.

It’s about Keith, he admits to himself. Once again, he thinks, knowing he’s being petty and inconsiderate and god he hates himself sometimes, it’s about Keith.

“Keith,” he says through a tense jaw, voice small and sharp and dripping in envy, as if saying the name itself will help him start breathing again.

It feels like it’s always been about the stupid mullet head, Lance realizes, pinching his fingertips harshly in order to anchor himself.

to read the rest go to http://archiveofourown.org/works/11741835 where i uploaded it cause it was longer than 1k =)