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estro-gem · 7 months

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Jax x Ragatha: The snake and the water spring

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis.

Author's note: I found this show by chance and I took a great liking to it! So now I did a thing, instead of studying for upcoming exams, because I love making things difficult for myself, apparently.

I have no idea what the fandom is like, but I'm playing it safe just to be... well... safe. I just loved the concept of this show so much that I couldn't help but be inspired by it! It got me thinking and I let it all out in this... thing.

I want to write more one-shot fics about the other characters and how they fit into this au too, but I don't know when I'll be able to.

WARNING! None of these characters are mine and everything mentioned and described is purely made-up fiction; inspired by works that are not my own. Nothing should be considered canon or taken seriously - we are all here to have some harmless fun! No age restrictions. I think this might be appropriate for all ages...?

Please show some love and support for Gooseworx; the creator of The Amazing Digital Circus!

I definitely butchered Gooseworx's characters by adding unnecessary 'relationship dynamics' and deviating from their original personalities. I promise that the actual show and characters are so much better than they are in my false portrayal of them.

SUMMARY:

A fanmade take on the events following Pomni's arrival and after the crew had dinner together. This is focused on Jax's point of view, but still written in the third person.

Jax confronts Ragatha after the pilot episode's 'dinner' and does his best to comfort her in a way that works for them. That's it.

Please enjoy!

THE SNAKE AND THE WATER SPRING

Jax was a desert snake.

Nothing but a cold-blooded pest that lived to find his next meal.

When one is left to die under the scorching sun, you can’t stomp on the sun for creating a desert, but you could stomp on the desert snake if it added to the pain of surviving in said desert. The Digital Realm was nothing but a desert sun – a cage with no exit and an evil with no target.

It was no secret why so many had lost their minds here.

Jax took on the role of being the snake. It was never announced or planned, but it was deemed necessary by all who came to know the realm. The inhabitants of The Amazing Digital Circus craved any sense of control; something they could hold accountable for their torment – something they could punish. A menace, parasite.

Evil with a target: Jax.

It was fun to act out while everybody went about their lives. He could unapologetically be the worst being known to man and thrive on the rage and hatred of all he had affected. If they hated him, he was fulfilling his role perfectly… and that meant they could stay sane and do their parts as he did his. Less people would be lost to insanity… and the group would grow stronger.

Everyone had a role in their system – an oasis was established, with Ragatha as the heart of the oasis; their very own water spring.

But when a new invading creature bursts into the oasis with no knowledge of this system, their system would be doomed. Pomni happened to be that invader. Everyone could collectively, yet silently agree that she was acting by her own careless devices since she arrived a few hours ago. She greedily soaked up their water source and left it barren, dry, and suffering.

Granted, Pomni didn’t know how their oasis worked, but it didn’t change the fact that she disrupted everything by showing up. She would have to catch on quickly and prove herself useful, before anyone else loses their minds.

They lost one of their own already… and they almost lost their beloved Ragatha; Jax’s equal and opposite.

Their precious water source.

Snakes offered venom, while water springs offered hope of life. They all desperately needed Ragatha to survive. While most would assume her to be fine after being fixed by Caine, Jax knew better than that. He saw her reluctantly stand aside Pomni to support her – beautifully acting within her role as she always would, but it was clear that Pomni still didn’t understand how scarce the water was by then. Rags was spread thin enough by handling the extra stress and enduring the continuous pain of being corrupted by the abstraction, but that didn’t stop Pomni from practically having a mental breakdown at the dinner table.

Jax saw that coming from a mile away. Thank goodness he silently took the open seat next to Pomni, silent in his insistence that the ragdoll should keep her distance for the time being. He’d give anything to destroy the little jester for abusing his doll. Ragatha was acting perfectly normal at the time – her masked smile perfectly set on her face – until it was time for them all to retire to their respective bedrooms.

Jax wished that he would’ve just dragged her after him when he booked it from the abstraction earlier today. Pomni would have been the perfect distraction for them to escape and get Caine.

He stood at Ragatha’s door after dinner.

Jax made a point to ring the doorbell this time. Usually, he’d just pluck out a key and saunter in like he owns the place, but with what happened today, he’d make an exception. Everyone has their limit – and someone has already reached their limit today. They couldn’t risk losing another one. Especially not Raggs. They all really needed her.

When she didn’t open, he tried the bell again. Nothing.

Well, time for the key, then.

He shoved his hand down his front pocket and fished out the doll’s room key. The bunny didn’t waste time opening the door. He wanted to see what state the girl was in, despite dreading the possibility of finding an abstracted amalgamation on the other side.

Silence.

Not even a creak was heard from the hallway. The room was lit up as it usually was, so that was a good sign, at least. Jax couldn’t see an obvious black body of eyes – another win. But where was Ragatha? He did see her walk into her room, so she had to be here.

He walked around, keeping his cool, casual composure fixed, despite no one being around. It was effortless at this point. It became a way for him to focus on what he could control in this crazy digital prison; himself.

He couldn’t, however, control his ability to spot a blasted ragdoll, it would seem. He scanned the room again, until his eyes fell on her ¾ bed. Could she-?

The bunny rolled his eyes at himself as he lowered himself onto his knees – maybe he could convince himself that he was not phased by the situation. Bending down, he peered beneath the bed frame.

Jax sighed in exasperation. Or was it relief? Both?

Ragatha was in the state she was in before retiring to her room. No gliching, no extra eyes.

Just Raggs.

She didn’t look good, though. The doll was curled up beneath her bed and blindly staring ahead of her. It didn’t look like she was breathing – not that they needed to anyway, but it was uncanny to see Rags like this. She was their voice of reason. She was a water spring in this desert.

If she dried up, their desert would be doomed.

Jax silently stood up and walked back to the open door again. No need to make a fuss over this. He took hold of the door handle and shut it from the inside. Key in hand, he locked the door and nodded to himself. Ragatha needed a raincloud… and he’d have to fill that role now. It’s the least he could do after leaving her to fend for herself when they found the abstraction today.

Why didn’t she run with him? Why did think she could fix someone whose mind was broken beyond repair? Why didn’t she just leave the rookie as bait?

Because that just wasn’t her role, was it?

If it weren’t for her nature – her role – none of them would have made it this far. It dawned on Jax, once again, how close they were to losing their beloved doll. How close they were to being stuck with an invader who knew nothing about what it took to survive in this hell hole.

Enough.

Back to the bed, crouched down and silent Jax positioned himself to lay down and simply look over the red head from a relative distance. There was enough space for the doll to crawl out of hiding without having to touch him. The bunny still hadn’t said a word. It’d be stupid to talk, and he didn’t feel like making the effort. He just wanted things back to normal again – well… as normal as it could have been.

Now Kaufmo is gone, a new creature was invading their home, tearing it up from the roots and tipping the delicate scales of the balance they worked very hard on creating. All because of a lunatic ringmaster having the bright idea of creating a fake exit-door. Someone better get that jester on a tight leash to get her to fall in line, like the rest of them were forced to.

He knew he, for one, wouldn’t mind roughing her up a bit. It was his specialty – his role. The parasite. The menace. The instigator.

Evil with an actual target.

The sound of shifting and movement had Jax blink out of his own head. Ragatha was slowly and dumbly making her way out from under her bed. Her eyes were still fogged over and her face still eerily blank, but at least she came out of hiding out of her own will. In a matter of seconds, the doll was out from her hiding place and settled on the floor beside Jax. She was staring him in the eyes now, waiting for the bunny, silently pleading.

Jax hadn’t had his aloof-douchebag persona engaged since he locked Ragatha’s door. She didn’t need a menace now – she needed to be grounded; revitalized. She needed a dark raincloud to fill up the water spring they all needed.

He didn’t look forward to what needed to be done, but he wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it.

He moved to stand up and held out a hand to help her up. He took note of the way her hand was shaking when she took his and gently guided her to the bed. The red head was the first to sit, then moved to lay down on her back and numbly stare at the ceiling. With a deep breath, Jax gathered himself mentally and cautiously crept onto the bed and positioned himself to briefly hover over her, before lowering his full weight onto Ragatha.

He had his head in the crook of her neck, on the left shoulder with his ears folding back to floppily droop to his upper back… with his left hand resting on the opposite shoulder. His body, although slim, enveloped hers and caused her to sink slightly into the mattress. His legs just loosely laid over and aside the ragdoll’s. It was more important to have his weight resting on her torso anyway.

For a long moment, they just motionlessly laid on the bed like this. To an outsider, it would look like they fell asleep atop each other or simply cuddled together very closely.

An outsider wouldn’t see that Jax was focused on the slow process of Ragatha’s body relaxing under his weight and her breathing slowing to a regular rhythm. An outsider wouldn’t have known that this was hardly the first time they’d done this – how long it took Jax to learn that this make-shift deep-pressure therapy was the most effective grounding technique for Ragatha to collect herself again.

They wouldn’t understand that Jax didn’t do this out of wanting to, but rather out of necessity.

Jax didn’t like to be touched. If anything, he was very capable of merely tolerating it. Everyone in the circus knew that he was touch-averse; some even used that as leverage to mess with him if the situation called for it. It was a necessity that he endured to keep his doll sane – to keep anyone of importance here in the circus, sane. Their whole lives revolved around mental strength. It was all just a matter of staying sane.

The laid there for what felt like a lifetime.

Slight shifting beside Jax alerted him that the doll was moving her arms – previously stiffly pinned to her sides. This was good, she felt comfortable enough to move around now!

Her left hand gently snaked up to the bunny’s head and slowly, softly petted his ears in a longitude motion. Her right hand wrapped loosely around his middle-to-lower back – motionless. This was bad, Jax did not like being touched like that!

While he was fine with the rhythmic touches of Ragatha’s left hand, he despised the idle position of the right hand resting on his back. He couldn’t prevent himself from tensing up in discomfort.

Bad touch, bad touch, bad-

This caused the ragdoll to tense up and rip her hands off him as if he burned her.

Oh no you don’t! We are not starting all over again.

He slowly pulls away and propped up unto his elbows, hearing Ragatha’s breathing pick up as she presumably spirals into her own thoughts on how he was going to leave her like this. Jax cast down a disapproving look. He broke his gaze to unceremoniously take her right hand – now clutched close to her chest – and intertwined their fingers, before resting his head on her left shoulder once again. He close eyes as he use his free hand to put her left hand on his head again, waiting for her to resume her petting.

Good touch; this was a good touch. Please understand.

Thankfully, Ragatha relaxed… and continued her previous slow, rhythmic motions. Slowly, Jax felt her relax once again and he indulged into her need for touch by stroking his thumb over hers occasionally.

Soon they fell into a rhythm; Ragatha would pet Jax’s ears 3 times, then it was his turn to stroke his thumb over hers. Then they would repeat the routine. This also helped Jax cope with the touching; the routine. The rhythm.

It felt like hours ticked by as the two just practiced their little unspoken routine. Jax grew used to it after a while, almost forgetting that his new mattress was now a sentient ragdoll and completely tuned into their rhythm of touches.

Pet… pet… pet… thumb. Pet… pet… pet… thumb.

Jax didn’t like touch, but he loved routine.

The doll and the bunny’s time together, once nothing but grounding techniques, grew to become an intimate exchange of touches and caresses – all wrapped in a routine, like a dance. Jax felt warm and fuzzy inside; for once he basked in the moment of enjoying his dolly. He lazily wondered if Ragatha felt the same. He shifted his head to look at her.

The doll looked down to meet his eyes when she felt him move. He could swear that she looked at peace, basking in the bliss of their closeness. For some reason, she looked like an angel. They all saw her as their angel. Had he successfully pinned a heavenly body beneath him?

Her gentle, longing gaze made a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt from his core.

This wasn’t the first time this feeling invaded his being when they did this – as rare as these moments were. He wasn’t sure when he started experiencing such feelings during these rare encounters, but as months crawled by, he felt drawn to his dolly more and more. Based on how she looked at him, he could only assume that she felt it too.

Something so foreign, yet so familiar.

He didn’t fail to spot the warmth rushing to her cheeks when their eyes met. She looked so ethereal beneath him, especially when her breathing picked up under his firm gaze. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were lidded. This time, it wasn’t fear or overstimulation. It was anticipation. It was desire.

Jax internally flinched at the tingly sensation when he smoothly burrowed his face into Ragatha’s neck. She shivered at the breath he let out against her skin. He could tolerate the touching a little longer, as long as he could see her crumble again. He wanted to see her walls crumble again.

“Jax- ”

Oh… he had to hear her again. More clearly, next time. This was torture, but she made him into her own personal masochist. His skin crawled at the sensation of her skin shivering against him, but he needed more. He could take it. Just a little longer – he just had to stand these sensations a little longer. He looked at her again.

Ragatha was reverting to a helpless puddle. The doll’s arms were gripping at the covers beneath her, successfully eliminating the bother of excessive contact that he despised. Jax didn’t know if she did it with that intension or without thinking, but either way, he was thankful. He really wanted more.

Why couldn’t he just be normal?

He lifted onto his elbows again and – dare one say – lovingly looked at her face. She could only peek back at him, breathing slightly faster than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shaky hand rise from the covers and hover next to his cheek, while her eyes pleaded for his mercy. He hesitated but bit the bullet to comply; leaning into her touch while desperately trying to ignore the odd tingles. Jax convinced himself to kiss her wrist and drowned himself in the pleasure of hearing her softly call his name.

He only heard it because he was listening so closely for it.

Yes.

DING DONG

In a flash, Jax braced himself up into a crouch and slammed his foot down with a mighty THUMP upon hearing Ragatha startle into a fit when the doorbell chimed. His hair on his back stood on end and his claws ripped through his gloves, leaving gouges in the covers beside the doll’s head.

His precious doll was disturbed again!

He heard her soft cry of fear and his blood boiled with a thirst for vengeance. Only he can make her cry out. He’ll skin the soul that dared to-

“Ragatha…? Can we talk?”

That DAMN jester!

“Jax?” a quiet voice trembled in his ear from beneath him. Jax stopped glaring at the door to softly glance down and see what his little doll wanted.

“Don’t…” Raggs sounded like she was begging while being held at gunpoint, whispering despite their rooms being enchanted to not hear anything from the outside when the door is shut.

Jax wouldn’t dare let that thing inside. Raggs was upset enough as it is.

“Look, I know it probably wouldn’t make a difference…” Pomni’s voice came from the other side door again, “…but I’m so sorry for running off… Again… I saw that exit and I had to see if it was real. No one else believed me and I started to think that I was losing my mind. You understand that, right?”

Jax placed both his hands down on the mattress, blocking the doll’s view of the door as if it could block the sound of the voice from reaching the Raggs’s ears, still hovering over her. He knew that his dolly didn’t want to hear anything the harlequin had to say now – he had half the mind to get up and bash the newbie’s head in.

“I hope we can talk about this some time. You are probably tired after such a long, crazy day.” Pomni’s voice died down near the end, “It feels like you’re the only good person here.”

She really is, but she’s too good for you. Selfish leech.

Jax looks down to the girl, still stiff as a board beneath him. Her eye was shiny with the swell of tears. He melted at the sight – anger simmering down. She was just a sweet little rag dolly, she didn’t deserve any of this, but oh, he was so happy to see Ragatha finally emote something again. She was OK again. Their water source was filled once again, now threatening to spill over. He’d happily welcome the flood.

He needed her.

The sound of fading footsteps causes Jax to rip his eyes to the direction of the door. His hearing was better than the dolls, probably thanks to being a rabbit.

Good riddance.

Ragatha seemed to relax at the sight of Jax deflating his stance, reading that Pomni probably left her door. She hesitantly reached up to cup Jax’s cheek. Jax followed her hand’s motion and scoffed, cringing at the invasion. He’s had enough touching for a week. It sucked to leave his doll so soon after being distressed again, but he couldn’t bring himself stand any more of this. He quickly got up and smoothed out his clothes, but not without missing the flash of hurt in the doll’s eyes. He felt bad, but he had to be strong with the new girl around, so straining himself now would only make matters worse and mess up the whole system.

Still, seemingly bored, Jax stood in his spot while rocking on his heels and looking off to the side, only sparing her a glance. Raggs sat up by then. She looked a little worse for wear, but it’s an improvement from hiding under her bed. She rested her elbows on her knees with her chin in her hands. The hurt in her eyes was long gone, but she looked tired. Poor thing, Jax shared the sentiment.

He felt her eye bore into the side of his face and the bunny couldn’t stop himself before he rolled his eyes and looked to her again. He could’ve choked on air when he saw her face, but the years of steeling his demeanor left no trace of his inner turmoil.

Raggs sported that longing look in her eyes again.

They were so close this time – closer than they’ve ever been before. Each time they spent together on nights like this, although few and far between, they grew closer… and hungrier. Neither understood what it was, but they never had the chance to just collapse into it, tonight being the closest to that.

But there was always something, right?

Jax allowed gaze to soften. His doll offered a small smile that almost ripped his heart out if his chest. It was drenched with melancholy of something she knew they could never have.

Because their roles in their little ecosystem didn’t allow for it to ever be theirs. It would never work.

This was survival.

The rabbit steeled his demeanor once again, but this time, his doll’s face didn’t fall.

Good, as it should be.

Jax walked to the door and fished out the key from his front pocket. He didn’t bother looking back. If he did, he wouldn’t have the will to leave anymore. When he opened the door, though, he couldn’t help but mumble out teasingly.

“See yah later, Doll~!”

He wished that he could shout his affections for her out into the void instead.

“I’m not your doll.” Ragatha responded, voice still wobbly and tired, but perky regardless. She knew just how to indulge him.

Yes, she is… she always will be.

Fanart: Evil with a target

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

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the-goddessfighter12 · 10 months

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you look sad.. he

(I don't know what this is)

#the mandela catalogue #good omens 2 #crossover #myart #crowley #alt gabriel #WRONG! Gabriel #red #angst #???#tmc #analog horror #👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️#alternate #demon

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cheianimatez · 20 days

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whydidyoubetrayme.jpg

(Warning: Analog horror content, scary picture (that ain't scary at all 💀))

Summary: After getting the character you wanted, you yeeted Gaming out from your team. One day, you opened Genshin, only to see this monstrosity

"Why did you leave me here?"

"You promised you'll never replace me with another Pyro user"

"\/\/ |-| Y |)1D ⅄0n B€†®4y

|\/|€ ¿"

01001001 00100000 01110100 01110010 01110101 01110011 01110100 01100101 01100100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00101100 00100000 01010100 01110010 01100001 01110110 01100101 01101100 01100101 01110010 00101110 00001010 00001010 01010111 01101000 01111001 00100000 01110010 01100101 01110000 01101100 01100001 01100011 01100101 00100000 01101101 01100101 00111111

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #analog horror #gaming x reader #angst #sagau

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too-much-yike · 8 months

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i heard an audio on tiktok and my hand did this thing???? is this normal?????

#analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #tss virgil #tss logan #logan x virgil #virgil x logan #ts virgil #ts logan #thomas sanders #rare analogical angst from sage

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sanderssidesficprompts · 5 months

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Any two (or more) Sides making up after a fight

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muyru-iru · 1 year

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The continueing of the breakdown...

Gabriel my man, my bro...

#art #au #the mandela catalogue #tmc #character design #mandela catalogue #alternate gabriel #analog horror #adam murray #angst #digital art

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moodmoodthecrabking · 1 month

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melancholic grace chasity moodboard with sapphic and christian themes requested by anon

#moodboard #grace chasity #npmd #grace npmd #sapphic grace chasity #HI I HAVE THOUGHTS ON THIS ONE #FIRST OFF: HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ANON #i wanted to include like 'my God my God why have you forsaken me' (bc grace thinks liking girls is analogous to Jesus on the cross'#or even like an annotation of psalm 139:14 with 'why like this'#but i COULDN'T. very unfortunate. so i hope you like what i've done instead!!#couldn't include a Bible verse. SAD. bc i there is lament in the Bible but all the aesthetic stuff focuses on the final part (praise)#instead of lament in its entirety. crying out to God and THEN coming back to Him #i don't have the girls kissing in most of them bc i wanted to get across the yearning and the angst.#but there was one with girls kissing in the church so i had to and fortunately i think it still fits the vibe #anyway thank you anon this was fun i hope you like it #sapphic #christian aesthetic #melancholic #melancholy moodboard

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givehimthemedicine · 1 year

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who wants to sob with me about how El in the lab is basically living in a Harlow monkey experiment?

[info below the cut if you're unfamiliar. tl;dr very sad and unethical contact comfort and maternal deprivation experiments on baby monkeys]

El being torn from her mother and raised in a sterile environment full of cold hard surfaces with probably no loving contact ever -> El clinging to her stuffed animal in the lab because it's literally the only soft object available to her -> El spending her lab recovery phase (s1-2) swaddling herself in big warm clothes and blankets and soft textures ->

El reacting emotionally to Brenner's touch because it's the closest thing she's ever known to the contact comfort and parental love she craves innately even though she hates and fears him ->

El with irreparable social deficits due to isolation -> El not being very good at interacting with her peers and tending to stay apart from the group -> El getting bullied ->

El being in the fetal position in so many lab scenes -> El continuing to curl up in a ball when stressed even outside the lab because she's never had anywhere to turn for safety or comfort ->

El craving touch and clinging to her friends and parental figures for the love and comfort and reassurance she never got as a child -> me sobbing forever

Using methods of isolation and maternal deprivation, Harlow showed the impact of contact comfort on primate development with his ethically controversial experiments in the 1960s.

Infant monkeys were taken from their mothers and raised in a laboratory setting, with some infants placed in separate cages away from peers. In isolation, the monkeys showed disturbed behavior, staring blankly, circling their cages, and engaging in self-mutilation. When the isolated infants were re-introduced to the group, they were unsure of how to interact, and did not stand up for themselves when bullied.

Even without complete isolation, the monkeys raised without mothers developed social deficits, showing reclusive tendencies and clinging to their cloth diapers. Harlow was interested in the infants’ attachment to the cloth, speculating that the soft material may simulate the comfort provided by a mother’s touch.

Harlow took infant monkeys from their biological mothers and gave them two inanimate surrogate mothers: one made of wire, and the other covered in soft terry cloth. Harlow found that the infants spent significantly more time with the terry cloth mother than they did with the wire mother, even if the wire mother provided food and the cloth one did not.

Infants also turned to inanimate surrogate mothers for comfort when they were faced with new and scary situations. If an alarming noise-making toy was placed in the cage, infants with surrogate mothers would retreat and cling to them for comfort before exploring; infants without surrogate mothers were paralyzed with fear, huddled in a ball sucking their thumbs, rocking, or screaming.

#I know it doesn't exactly fit the analogy but duffers if that's why you named her mom Terry i'll be there soon #eleven #gifs #mine #harlow monkey experiment #angst #lab feels #lizlemon[crowdbooing].jpg #the alarming toy / clinging to surrogate mother part -> elmike and dustin's hammer thing #I'm gonna have to do a whole other post about that instead of writing a novel in the tags #anyway: I'm crying #and this has been on my mind since the first time I watched s1 years ago #I didn't realize until making this post how often she's curled up in a ball in the lab #brenner i'm reanimating your corpse so I can kill you again #btw i'm carrying el around in one of those front baby sling things. yes at her current age. it's a workout but it's necessary

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yourchemicallyimbalancedromance · 7 months

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Burned Bridges

Summary: Virgil runs into a wasted Janus at a party that his best friend, Roman, is throwing on Halloween night. A locked door forces them to confront their heavy past.

Ships: past analogical, present prinxiety

CW/TW: Alcohol, smoking, homophobia and bullying, Human!Virgil, Human!Remus (mentioned), Human!Roman, Human!Remy (mentioned), Human!Janus, Human!Logan (mentioned), unsympathetic Virgil, unsympathetic Janus, sympathetic Roman

It was October 31st and instead of binge watching horror movies by himself in the dark of his room, Virgil found himself standing in the corner of his childhood bestfriends house, early 2000’s pop music blasting in the background. He hadn’t dressed up and hundreds of people were bobbing up and down in a sea of red plastic cups, costumes, and glow stick bracelets, screaming the lyrics that came out of the speakers Roman had bought. He’d forced Virgil to go with him to buy them after begging him to come to the party because, in his words, “you never get out of the house, it’ll be fun! Especially if you meet a cute guy”

Virgil laughed after he said this, only responded with “yeah, whatever you say, Roman.”

Tequila suffocated anything that represented a pleasant smell out of the room. He was holding a drink himself, taking sips of it occasionally; not because it tasted good—at all—but because he had a hunch he wouldn’t want to remember the events of tonight.

His throat burned. He knew he wasn’t supposed to sip Tequila, normally he chugged it, but he liked the distraction of the pain and the warmth that filled him after every taste.

He desperately looked around for a familiar face. Last he saw Roman was when the party had started four hours earlier. It was now 2 AM and he had done nothing but drink, take shots with Remus and a few of his friends, be forced to dance by Remy, and stand in the corner waiting for it all to be over.

He chugged the rest of his drink and stood there for a moment, sinking in the environment around him, ultimately deciding to hide in the bathroom until the party was over. He took a few shaky steps into the crowd of people, shoving past drunks and the occasional stoner. He never really understood why Roman hung out with these kind of people, he honestly doubted that he knew most of the people in his house anyway.

He found his way to the bathroom and shoved it open, quickly closing and locking it, sitting on the cold tile floor.

In his rush, he hadn’t noticed Janus, wearing a Harry Potter costume, who was also sitting on the floor.

“Fuck, Sorry I didn’t know you were—“

Janus cuts him off “Vrrrrrrgggllll” he laughs, the name on his tongue slurring together.

“Look I didn’t know you were in here, I’ll just leave.” He states bluntly, getting up to open the door, wishing he still had his drink, he really didn’t want to remember this. He tried to force down his unresolved anger but it came out sharp in his voice.

“Vir-gil,” Janus hiccups “can I tell youuuu a secret?”

Virgil tries to unlock the door but it’s jammed, no matter how hard he pulls or twists the knob, it won’t budge. He sinks back down to the floor, annoyed. “Whatever Janus, sure” he says

“I think you’re still angry at me” he blurts out, giggling a bit, eyes drooping.

“Yeah, I am. You fucked me over, really bad. Who wouldn’t be.” he spits. He had his knees to his chest, his back to the door, trying to stay as far away from Janus as he could.

Janus struggled to stand up, grabbing onto the shower curtain and slipping, falling back down, pulling the curtain and rod down with him. Janus just giggled. “Oops.” was all he said.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Fucking hell, Janus. Can you stop being a nuisance for two minutes?” He screams.

Janus looks at him for a moment before registering what he said, mumbling a “sorry”

With anyone else, Virgil would’ve felt sorry for yelling, but Janus was the exception. He deserved it, worse than that even.

“You ruined the one good thing I had and you expect me to feel fucking sorry for you?” He snaps.

“I-“ Janus hiccups “I didn’t mean to” the light and carelessness in his eyes from earlier, gone. Now replaced with only a hint of it behind dull pupils.

“Yeah?, well you did. You think ganging up on me and Logan didn’t fucking ruin our relationship? You think the constant harassment inside and outside of Uni wasn’t fucking enough for me to have atleast a little bit of anger towards you?” he was practically screeching but he didn’t care, the music would cover it anyway.

Janus was staring at him, almost emotionless apart from the look in his eyes, which were starting to water.

Virgil got up to try the door again when Roman suddenly opened it, looking from Virgil to Janus and then Virgil again. He gave him a “what the actual hell is going on????” look and Virgil just shook his head, shoved past Roman and into the crowd.

Roman stared at Janus for a minute, taking notice of the curtain and curtain rod astray on the floor. He didn’t say anything, just closed the door and ran after Virgil.

———————————————————————

After a few minutes of searching inside, he found Virgil in his front yard, sitting on the stairs, smoking a cigarette.

He sat down next to him and a thick silence hung between them. Virgil blew out smoke into the cold air before clearing his throat. “He was acting like we were best friends again, can you believe it?” He laughed in exasperation.

Roman could believe it, Janus had always been an asshole in College and even before that, that was kinda his thing, which was why he was surprised when Virgil had suddenly decided to become friends with him one day.

“He’s so funny dude, like literally one of the best people I’ve ever met” he had said

Roman had just smiled and laughed in return, knowing how awful he was to his other friends.

Roman didn’t say anything this time either, just shook his head.

“I hate him so much, Ro. He’s awful. He ruined everything. Logan hasn’t spoken to me in almost a year because of the shit he pulled before we graduated.”

Roman sighed, “I know, Virg…but he’s not necessarily known for being a good person, I thought you knew that” he says softly.

Virgil took a drag of his cigarette and breathed out, “obviously not.” He said a little annoyed.

Immediately he regretted it. “Sorry” he said, tapping his cigarette and letting the ashes fall.

Roman gave him a reassuring smile, “it’s okay”

Virgil put his cigarette on the concrete step they were sat on, getting rid of its light and throwing the butt into the grass. He put his head in his hands. “Life’s rough, man. I don’t even miss him anymore I’m just upset because he made me really, really happy. Sometimes…I feel like it’s my fault? for introducing him to Janus.”

“It’s not your fault at all. It’s his. Honestly? I don’t even know why he’s here. I didn’t invite him, someone else probably did.“ Roman says the last part sheepishly, a little ashamed that he let Janus in his house with his best friend that he hurt irreversibly.

Virgil turns to Roman, staring at him longingly in the eyes. They were beautiful. Hazel with green specks around the edges. Maybe it was the tequila, or his exhaustion, or his desperation to feel loved by someone, but he slowly moved a hand to Romans face.

“Can I?” He whispered

Roman looked at him for a moment, weighing his options. He did like Virgil, but what if he was doing this in a drunken haze? What if he was just using him to get over Logan? He didn’t believe he was truly over their relationship just yet.

Despite these fears, Roman shook his head and their lips locked. He let himself melt into it, let himself enjoy the moment. He tasted of alcohol, honey lavender tea, and Marlboro Reds.

After a moment, Virgil pulled away; A look of blissful happiness on his face.

Roman was still holding onto the moment, staring through Virgil.

He looked at him, worried. “oh god I’m so sorry did you not want—“

Roman interrupted him, “No! no I did..I really, really did.” He smiled, genuinely.

Virgil returned it, “That’s good.”

Roman paused for a second “so…does this mean we’re dating?..” he asked “cause you’re drunk and I just don’t want-“

Virgil took Romans hands in his. “I’m just a little tipsy, Honey, but I know what I want, and what I want is this.” he says gently.

“Okay.” Roman responds, hopeful.

“I’m gonna head home, alright? Text me, I’ll respond as soon as I can” Virgil says

“I will, love” he says. The nickname feels odd leaving his lips, especially being used on someone who’s been his friend for 22 years, but he says it anyway.

Virgil gets in his car and pauses.

Romans phone dings after a minute or two and he takes it out of his pocket, reading the message before watching Virgil’s car leave his driveway.

Virgil<3: “I promise I want this, and I want you. Some tequila and a little heartbreak doesn’t change that. 💜”

Roman smiles, puts his phone back in his pocket, and goes back inside.

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soc1850 · 7 months

Text

“you’re just being para-! expressing an unhealthy amount of concern.”

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #virgil angst #paranoia #virgil paranoia #paranoia theory #I love him ur honour #anxiety #virgil anxiety #analogical #dark side virgil #fanart #art #Thomas sanders #tss #sasi

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silversyn115 · 3 months

Text

"This is the part where you run."

HEHEHEHEHE THIS PIECE IS SUPER MESSY AND A BIT BOTCHED BUT I WANNA SHARE IT NONETHELESS

Comic for this AU is coming soon

Let the angst begin. ;)

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not-sure-what-im-feeling · 8 months

Note

Analogical? 👀

“Just fine.”

Combined all of these! Here’s my writing, and it’s some Logan just in time for world teachers day!! Y’all get to decide if it’s platonic or romantic, I just had fun writing it <3

Ended up writing 1,197 words and I’m rather proud of that

Uhh as for warnings, crying and Logan repressing his feelings? I’m not great with warnings apologies.

Read on ao3:

Logan took a small, shaky breath. He was fine, after all. Perfectly fine. He was Logic. No room for all those icky feelings for him. They would just get in the way. Thank goodness he didn’t have any. That would be a disaster.

Logan didn’t feel anything. Of course he didn’t. And that was why everyone was able to nag and tease and remark constantly about every little thing. He was Logic. How could you hurt the feelings of someone who had none? Logan was the most unfeeling of them all—he just had to remind himself of that.

He was Logic. Stoic, precise, perfect. Not a mistake to be made. The chances of him making a mistake were infinitesimal. That being said, the smallest chance is still a chance. But did they really need to dwell on his mistakes so much? As if he hadn’t already? There is no room for error in a machine built on logic, but, sadly, Logan was not a machine.

So Logan stood there, beside the stairwell, lips pursed tight together, breaths shaky, and eyes glistening with the ever so slight glimmer of what might be tears—not that Logan would cry. He loosened his tie a bit, noticing the way the air in the room felt heavier, and the way everything seemed so distant, yet the muffled voices of the others were so incredibly loud, he noticed the unfocusing of his eyes. He noticed so terribly much, and yet he couldn’t think of a single thing to do. The computer’s processing unit seemed all jammed up.

The voices of the others were heard, yes, but not understood. However, when he heard his name a couple times, Logan took that to mean it was time to register what they were saying.

“Logan?” Patton’s voice rang out, “Logan, are you alright?”

Logan shook himself ever so slightly, and then responded. “Yes, yes, completely fine. Thank you, Patton.”

“Are you sure about that? Because for the last minute or so you’ve been completely unresponsive.” Virgil then said.

Logan paused. “I’m fine. Let’s just get back to work. I’d rather not talk about all… this.”

Patton began to say something, but Virgil cut him off. “You know what, Logan? I think you need to take a break. Go to your room, have a nap, read a book, whatever, but you clearly aren’t okay. And that’s combing from me.”

"Virgil. I do not need to stop. I need to help Thomas. I'll be fine. I am fine." Logan was adamant, but Virgil was stubborn too.

Still, Logan clearly didn't want to be seen as anything near emotional. His hands shook with a slight sense of feeling, but he clasped them together in an effort to hide that.

"Please, Lo, just take a break?" Virgil's voice got softer. It was still stubborn and pushy, but much more gentle and more of a request. "We both know it'll help you. Ignoring yourself will only hurt Thomas."

Patton and Roman just watched the odd "fight" play out before them, Thomas a bit more confused in the middle of it all.

"...Fine. I'll sit the rest of this episode out. You guys certainly have made it clear you're just fine without me." Logan said, then, without any other goodbyes, he sunk out.

"Well, he couldn't have left a substitute?" Roman said, though his face all but matched the joking tone of voice he used.

"Can't you just shut up? I know you can't do this, but have you ever thought of thinking of others, Roman?" Virgil snapped.

"Uh, guys, can you not fight?" Thomas asked.

"Yeah, kiddos, that won't help anything." Patton agreed.

Both Virgil and Roman huffed a "fine", as the four left in the room continued on without Logan.

Logan, however, went to his room without much adieu. He sat, angry and hurt and uncomfortable and with more emotions than he knew how to deal with, in the chair at his desk, looking at the sheets of planning on how he could help. Not that any of them would see the light they deserved. Thomas never followed through with the plans he made. The others wouldn’t listen.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, at his desk, trying to keep the emotions from rising to the surface. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, crying quietly, as he tried to stifle the noises he was making. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, sobbing, with no regard to the gasping hiccupy breaths he took shook with emotion. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, before he was half pulled from his tears, glasses off his face, by a knock at his door. And he wasn’t sure how long he sat there, uncertain what to do, before his voice cracked as he said “Enter”.

The door opened, and Virgil walked in slowly, as if approaching a timid animal caught in a trap. Logan futilely attempted to wipe the tears from his face as the light and Virgil came into his room. He straightened his back, folded his hands in his lap, and tried so hard to be as stoic as possible. It didn’t last long. He shook, before the illusion shattered and the mask dropped, revealing the pain Logan was feeling.

Virgil walked over, pulling the spare stool Logan had tucked into a corner out and sat down. “Logan? I know you aren’t alright. You don’t need to hide it.” Virgil said, before adding what he thought Logan would say. “You shouldn’t repress things after all.”

Logan didn’t answer, didn’t even look at Virgil, but he did nod in agreement. “Of course I shouldn’t,” he mumbled, “But showing little emotion and repression are different, Virgil.”

Virgil huffed, but sighed after a moment and spoke again. “Logan… we care about you. I care about you. I just want to make sure that if I can help you, you’ll let me. Now. How could I help you?” It was a question, but even with Virgil’s comforting tone, it was persistent and stubborn—something Logan respected.

Logan paused. He wiped away the tears better, and cleaned his glasses before responding.

“Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’m not sure. I’m not the one who usually asks for help.” He said, before adding under his breath: “Not that I need help.”

“Alright… we could start with talking about it. What do you say?” Virgil said, and Logan finally looked up. Virgil looked so warm and inviting, and Logan felt, for the first time in a while, like he was safe. Safe in a way he couldn’t exactly explain. He didn’t often feel endangered, but this was a place—a person—that he could trust with anything he needed to say.

Logan nodded, and Virgil stood, reaching out his hand for Logan to take. Logan took it in his hand, standing up with the other, before they pulled each other into an embrace of hope and security. When they pulled away from each other, Virgil pulled off his hoodie, wrapping it on Logan.

Logan, with red eyes and a hoarse voice from his sobs, said, “Let’s talk.”

#sanders sides #logan sanders #ts logan #virgil sanders #ts virgil #sanders sides fanfiction #my writing #ts logan angst #analogical

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shsy7573 · 11 months

Text

Quiet

Part two, by shsy7573

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time they saw Lance was 12:00 the next day. He dragged himself from his room after much prompting from the team that it was really time for him to wake up.

He didn’t look like he’d slept for seven hours. In fact, he looked like he’d barely even slept one. But when they asked him if he was feeling alright he smiled and insisted he was fine.

Because he was. Totally and completely fine. He’d gotten out of bed, and he was only feeling slightly weighed down by the quiet that followed every sound. That roared in his ears every time he stopped to take a breath.

And sure, it’d taken him three hours to pull himself out of bed. But he was still feeling just fine.

They didn’t have to worry about him. He never wanted them to worry about him. These were Lance’ problems and he could deal with them on his own.

He was fine. Even though he could only stomach two mouthfuls of food goo. Even though he could barely focus during team training. Even though his body willed him to do anything but be a contributing member of society. Even as he felt the quiet creeping up, and up, and up through his veins. He was fine.

He was always fine.

It was 15:30 when Lance went in search of something to drown out the quiet. He made the usual rounds.

First Hunk. But Hunk was busy, and Lance didn’t want to bother him. He didn’t even ask.

Then Pidge. But Pidge was crabby and he didn’t want to annoy her. He slipped out as she cursed insults at her game.

Then he found Coran and Allura. But they were reminiscing about Altea and Lance didn’t want to intrude.

Then he spotted Shiro and Keith. They were having one of their teaching, bonding, brotherly moments. Lance didn’t even announce his presence.

And through it all Blue called out to him. Begging him to talk to her. To let her in. To tell someone about the heaviness, the despair, the loneliness. To talk to her about the quiet.

But Lance refused. It was one thing to find others to distract him from it. It was another to tell them about it. To spread it to them like a disease. To bring them down with his own stupid bullshit.

And Blue would have it even worse, because they shared a mind.

So he refused, and he retreated back to bed.

The next day came by fast. Probably because he slept through the rest of the last one.

His mind woke up at 6:00. Lance couldn’t drag his body out of bed until 10:30.

He put on some moisturiser. Threw on some clothes, and left his room. With his hands in his pockets, he walked down to the lounging area, where everyone was already in full conversation about something. He watched for a few moments, not quite feeling up to joining in on the antics.

And then someone noticed him.

“Lance!” Hunk rejoiced, “you’re awake! We missed you at breakfast again, buddy.”

“And dinner.” Pidge added grumpily

And Lance did what he always did. He smiled. He smiled and waved as he stepped into the realm of socialisation.

“Yeah, sorry. I must be coming down with something, I keep falling asleep,” he lied.

“Well hopefully it’s not too serious. We’ve got that big infiltration mission coming up soon,” Shiro proclaimed, walking over and pressing a hand to Lance’s forehead.

“I’m fine, Shiro,” Lance said, batting the hand away, “I promise.”

The Black Paladin furrowed his brow, “if you say so.”

“Just don’t get the rest of us sick,” Pidge muttered.

Lance lifted his hands in surrender, “I’ll try my best, Pidgeon.”

Shouldn’t be that hard considering I’m not really sick.

But that seemed to be the end of the conversation, and Lance was thankful for that.

Until another one started. “Have you eaten yet today?” Shiro asked.

Suddenly a ping of hunger stabbed Lance in the gut, and he was painfully aware of the fact that he hadn’t eaten much at all in the last give or take 48 hours. Let alone this morning. He just didn’t have the stomach for it.

He shoved his hands in his pocket. They were shaking.

“I… yes?” He lied. It didn’t sound very convincing. He’d blame it on the weariness of hunger.

“Lance, you need to eat.” Shiro said. Lance sighed, looking at his feet.

“Why don’t you come with me buddy. I’ll make you something really good. I know that goo stuff isn’t the best when you’re sick,” Hunk placated. Wrapping an arm around Lance’s shoulder and leading him away.

“K,” was all Lance was able to reply. As they walked the quiet thickened. As Hunk sat him down the quiet thickened. As he left to prepare the food the quiet roared, suffocating him. Choking him with its intoxicating will to just give in.

His hands were quivering badly now, and he felt himself sweating cold. Forgoing food for so long may not have been the best idea.

When Hunk presented him his dish, Lance forced himself to eat it semi-normally. He didn’t want Hunk to think he didn’t like it. He did. He loved it. And he was hungry. He just didn’t feel like eating.

But he did. And he told Hunk it was good, which it was. And he felt some of his strength returning.

When he stood up he didn’t feel as wobbly, and he smiled at Hunk as they went to locate the others again.

But still, between every footstep and every heartbeat and every inhale or exhale of breath it was there. It was too much. And Lance pushed onwards, spurring Hunk into a ramble about his culinary genius. The way Hunk’s eyes lit up as he explained his passion for food made the quiet duller. Its grip is weaker. Its edge duller.

And Lance smiled more warmly.

He carried on through the day with a cloud shrouding his view of the world. And he tried his best to ignore the quiet. To focus on the small sounds. To not let it consume him entirely.

He forced himself to train.

He forced himself to do castle chores so that he didn’t sit with idle hands. Alone with his thoughts.

He forced himself to stay up and eat with the team, before retiring to his bedroom for the rest of the night.

The next morning, he pried himself out of bed at 8:00. Going to breakfast and shovelling food into his mouth.

The team split up, and Lance found himself once again in search of companionship.

It went about as well as the last time he tried.

He barely made it to lunch before retreating to his room.

He barely managed to force himself out of bed to eat supper.

He didn’t stay awake long enough to partake in the team’s movie night.

The next few days felt pretty much the same. Some days he’d get up early and face the day with a smog over his brain. Some days he’d hide away as long as possible before he felt he’d worried the team enough. Some days he’d train. Some days he’d seek out others. Some days he’d show up to evening meals with the team, and some days he’d go to bed in the afternoon and not emerge again until morning.

And then the day of the mission came up, and he forced himself out of bed at 5:00. They were supposed to leave at 7:30, so he had two hours to get his shit together.

He splashed water on his face, performed his skincare routine, threw on his Paladin uniform and headed downstairs for breakfast with the team.

He forced lumps of food goo down his throat. Put on the same old act of cocky, goofy, slightly irritating, humorous Lance.

He got into Blue, insisting over and over again to his Lion that he was fine.

And at 7:30, they set off, and Lance's brain snapped into mission mode. The quiet receded to the outskirts of his mind. Still there, but not enough to cloud his judgement.

They approached the Galra base from its blind spot. Sneaking up in the cover of the blinding rays of a nearby star.

They’d planned this out for weeks. They knew exactly what to do. They landed on the rings of the planet next to the base. Keeping their lions in the blindspot of the sun. Then, they all piled into the Green Lion, and snuck right up close to the ship.

Pidge dropped off the Paladins, along with some BLIP tech and Galra scanners before flying back to the planet’s rings to monitor the Paladin’s progress from a safe distance.

Hunk and Shiro tackled the first floor, aiming to find the base’s prisoners and set them free. Meanwhile, Lance and Keith made their way as stealthily as possible to the control room.

They were proceeding cautiously through a long, empty corridor when Keith turned to Lance, both their mic’s off, and started talking.

“Has there been something going on with you lately?” He asked. Looking over his shoulder, before lowering his voice even more from the mutter it was at.

“No,” Lance replied, lying through his teeth, “why?”

“I just… you’re not around as often. You don’t talk as much. You just seem less… yourself.”

Lance rolled his eyes, “I told you all I was getting sick didn’t I?” He questioned. Suddenly grateful for that lie. “I just gotta wait for it to pass. You don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna compromise the mission.”

“That’s not what I—“

“You guys have incoming!” Pidge whispered through coms, and the two Paladins both ducked behind the pillars on each side of the wall.

They listened as marching footsteps slowly approached from the direction they’d been coming from.

Lance listened to the sound, holding up his fingers and slowly, silently counting down from three.

When his last finger fell, he and Keith both jumped out from behind their cover, catching the sentries by surprise and disabling their control panels before they could scream for help. Not that they could, really. They were robots.

Keith and Lance continued on, locating the control room not long after that.

“Okay,” Keith whispered in his ear, “you take out the two on the right, I’ve got the big one on the left.”

“Copy,” Lance responded. He manoeuvred himself into position, waiting for Keith to signal their go.

That went as well as the altercation before. They incapacitated their opponents easily —or, as easy as it was to fight the Galra— and Keith walked over and inserted a small flash drive-esk thing into the panel. Pidge talked Keith through the process of downloading Galra data while Lance kept watch.

And as he stood near the entrance, coast supposedly clear, he began to feel heavy again as quiet surrounded him.

His shoulders slumped and his eyes scanned the hallway lazily. Nothing. No footsteps. No eyes. No lights. Nothing to focus on.

He couldn’t turn his microphone back on. He knew he’d get distracted by what was happening. He had to stay focused. He couldn’t give in to the need for an out right now.

But as it turned out, the quiet was just as distracting as the others, because he didn’t even realise the blast heading for him until Pidge called over the coms.

“LANCE WATCH OUT—“

A beam collided directly with Lance’s shoulder, and he was sent careening backwards. He landed on his ass, and lifted his bayard to shoot down the hallway at the figures approaching.

“Lance? You good?!” Keith asked, turning around.

The Blue Paladin forced his way-too-heavy-for-the-motivation-he-had-right-now body to its feet, and continued shooting at their oppressors.

“Yeah, I’m good. Keep doing your computer-y thingy” He hissed, but in reality he could feel pain radiating through his shoulder.

He ignored it, sending more beams of blue energy towards the Galran centuries.

One good thing about this base: the entirety of its population were robots. The only biometric signatures on the ship were that of the prisoners.

A couple more well aimed shots and the robots were deactivated. Lance breathed heavily, lifting his free hand up to press his shoulder. He winced, biting back a yelp. Probably dislocated. He could deal with that later.

“You guys alright up there?” Asked Shiro over coms.

“We’re fine,” Lance replied, though his breathy voice wasn’t super convincing. “Just got into a little spat. How’s the prison break going?”

“Good.” Shiro reported. “We’re just loading the last of them onto the escape pods now.”

As if having perfect timing, Keith turned around, holding a disconnected chip in his hand. “Good, then we’ll all meet at our exit point at the same time.”

And they did.

As they all swarmed back into the hull of the Green Lion, Lance was aware of the quiet. Nobody spoke, concentrating on evading the many Galran ships that were now patrolling the base.

He couldn’t take it.

“So… that was close, huh?”

“Lance, shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Pidge spat as she veered out of the path of an energy beam.

His mood sank again, “right… sor- AGH!” he exclaimed in pain as they made a harsh turn, and his bad shoulder was rammed into Keith’s elbow.

Light danced on the edge of his vision as white hot pain radiated from the area.

“Lance?! Are you okay?” Kieth asked.

Lance nodded. Gritting his teeth against the pain as he raised a shaky, unstable finger to his lips, before pointing at Pidge.

Keith gave him an exasperated look, but was forced to stay silent as the lion veered right again and he fought to keep his footing.

“Just a couple more minutes guys! Then I can turn the cloaking back on!” Pidge said as she dodged out of the way of another ship.

The entire hull shook as the Green Lion was hit. Hunk gripped tightly onto the wall, grabbing Shiro with his other hand before they could be thrown forward. Keith caught himself on the back of Pidge’s chair.

Lance was not so lucky. He was sent sailing over the top of Pidge’s chair and right on top of her lap. This many people in a Lion’s cockpit was definitely not safe.

“Lance!” Pidge screamed, kicking at him as she struggled to keep Green under control. “Get the hell off me!”

Her foot shoved him to the ground, and he couldn’t help the scream that escaped as he landed on his dislocated shoulder.

“My Cub! Hurt!” Blue fretted. He could hear her concern.

No, Blue, it’s fine I— “FUCK!”

He screamed in pain again as the ship lurched back and his shoulder was sent ramming into the bottom of Pidge’s chair.

He was trying to get up, but with only one hand and the ship being jostled around like crazy he didn’t think he could.

“Danger! I will protect!”

Blue, no! Stay— he couldn’t keep a proper train of thought Pidge kicked him away again. He’d managed to stand up, but fell on top of her again as the ship barrel rolled.

“Lance, stay off me!” She spat as she steered the ship sideways.

Lance’s back slammed into the side of the cockpit. He felt dizzy and disoriented. He wasn’t even sure where he was.

“My Cub! I’m here!”

“Blue no!” He shouted, voice raw with pain. But it was too late. Blue raced past the Green Lion, blasting ice at the surrounding ships.

But there were too many of them. Too many for a pilotless lion to take on her own. Sure maybe if he had time to concentrate and guide her, but he could barely get out two words before being flown across the length of the Green Lion’s cockpit!

“What’s the Blue Lion doing here, Lance?! This wasn’t part of the plan!” Keith exclaimed. Very much panicking.

But Lance’s mind was fogged with pain and he couldn’t hear anything over the sound of Blue’s cries as she tried desperately to save them.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Pidge exclaimed as now she was not only fighting to defend them, but Blue as well.

“Dammit! Blue! Get out of here, I’m fine!”

“No! Cub always say that! Not fine!”

“This time I am Blue, please! I promise! You’re just hurting yourself!”

“My Cub is hurt! I will protect! Hurt with you!”

“BLUE, DAMMIT I DON’T NEED—“

“LANCE, WHAT THE HELL’S GOING ON?!”

“There’s more of them!”

“We’re getting swarmed!”

“I can cloak now, but we need to get the Blue Lion out of here!”

“FUCKING HELL!” Lance screamed. He turned on his jet pack and finally, finally was able to right himself. Pain screamed down his entire arm and his head was pounding and despite all the yelling his head still felt so goddamn quiet!

“Pidge, line me up! I’m gonna eject over there and fly her myself!”

“You can’t! It’s too dangerous to go out there Lionless!”

“You got a better idea!”

“No, but that one’s stupid.”

“Well I am fucking stupid, so I don’t give a shit. Just do it!” Lance yelled. He didn’t leave much room for arguing as he made his way towards the ejection pad.

“Lance, I’m not doing it!”

“Pidge is right, it’s too dangerous!” Hunk agreed

“Lance, get your ass back here!” Keith demanded.

Lance hovered his hand over the eject button. “I’m gonna fucking press this, so if you want me to have a chance at surviving you’re gonna fucking line me up!”

Pidge let out a yell of anger, but she had no choice. She looped Green around, then aimed her towards the Blue Lion’s mouth.

Lance watched, waiting for the exact right moment.

“See you guys on the other side!” He yelled, ramming his hand down on the button and feeling his body being shot out into space.

For a couple, terrifying moments, he was surrounded by nothing but stars, Galra ship, and space lions. And then, Blue, in her desperation to save him, opened her mouth and collected him into her safe embrace. Sheltering him from the battle and from the screams of his friends who were 100% still arguing his decision despite it already being made.

Gritting his teeth as his shoulder pain intensified tenfold, he ran to his pilot chair, sat down, and began trying to get control of Blue.

“I made it!” He called over intercoms, barely caring to hear the response as he commanded Blue to action.

“Lance! Oh my god! When we get back to the ship I swear I am gonna fucking kill you!” Pidge screamed in his ear.

“Yeah well, let’s focus on getting back to the ship first, alright?!” Lance suggested, trying his best to dodge the fire of the Galra ships.

Pidge was screaming over coms, “how do you suggest we do that?!”

“You get cloaked and go to the other lions!”

“And leave you behind?!”

“I’ll be fine! I can evade long enough for everyone to get to their own lions and provide support! But none of us are gonna get out of here if you don’t hurry the fuck up!”

As if to reiterate his point, another shot landed on the Green Lion’s side.

Pidge growled in irritation, before responding. “Fine! Just don’t fucking die while I’m gone!”

And then the Green Lion disappeared, and Lance was all alone. It was just him, Blue, and the quiet.

And, of course, an entire Galra fighter fleet, but that's besides the point.

Lance was just starting to doubt that his plan would actually get him out of here alive when the rest of the Paladins returned with their lions.

He’d never been so happy to see the giant, metal, multicoloured lions in his life.

“Lance! Get out of there!” Keith yelled as he shot a fire beam towards some of the ships flanking Lance.

They fought together, and with all five of them, they managed to escape only slightly banged up and, by some miracle of the universe, alive.

Soon, the Galra base, as well as the ships, were out of sight.

And as they journeyed back to the castle, the quiet crept in once more. It settled over the static on the coms. Its presence the same as all the other times it had reared its ugly head. It was always the same. The same heavy feeling. The same unbearable silence. The same feeling of swimming through a river of molasses. Limbs heavy as the ocean.

“Lance.” Said someone over the coms as the Castle came into view. The tone was small, quiet. Lance wasn’t quite sure who it was, until they continued speaking and he recognised the familiar rasp of Keith’s voice. “That was… incredibly stupid.”

Lance didn’t reply for a moment. The quiet in the hull felt almost too difficult to penetrate with his own voice.

“I know.”

“You could have been killed.” Kieth continued.

“I know.”

Lance flew through the suffocating silence. His hands were definitely not shaking.

“Is your shoulder alright?”

“It’s fine.”

That was a lie. It hurt like hell, actually. But he wasn’t going to make the team worry any more. He hated it when they worried.

They returned to their hangars, and Lance forced himself out of the pilot seat. Slowly dragging himself down and out of Blue’s mouth onto the floor of the large room.

He commanded his feet to carry him towards the med bay. And was met halfway by the rest of the team. The very worried, very pissed off team.

He stopped as they appeared in the hallway before him, leaning on the wall as they made no move to let him by.

Pidge stalked forward first, face contorted was a mixture of concern, fear and anger. She punched him in the gut.

“What the hell was that! Fucking throwing yourself into space in the middle of a battle! Do you know how fucking idiotic that was!?! No- you know what- of course you do! You just get a kick out of giving us all a fucking heart attack, don’t you?! Fucking—“

And then she was hugging him. Wrapping her small arms around his body so tightly that he struggled to breath.

Lance couldn’t force himself to find humour in her fit, though. He was too strung out. His shoulder hurt, his brain felt like mush, the adrenaline of battle had subsided and, most importantly, he had fucking fucked up again. He had worried all of them so much. He had compromised the mission by not being able to keep his shit together, and tell Blue to stay the fuck where she was.

He couldn’t even bring himself to smile.

Shiro stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Lance’s very much shaking body.

“Why don’t we get you to a healing pod. We can talk about… all this after.”

Lance nodded mutely, and allowed himself to be guided silently to the med bay. The quiet clung to him like a wet blanket. No matter how many ways he twisted his mind, he just couldn’t pry it off him. He didn’t have the energy to try.

So, as he changed into the appropriate clothing for the healing pod, and stepped himself inside, Lance stopped fighting. He was going to be medically unconscious for at least half a varga, so he figured the quiet could have its way until then.

For now, Lance would let the quiet win.

Just until he had the energy to fight again.

Lance tipped forward as the healing pod slid open.

For a moment, he was free falling, and he didn’t have the energy nor the care to catch himself.

But then something else kept him upright.

The Blue Paladin looked up to see himself limp in the arms of Keith Kogane. For a moment, his mind didn’t register it. Didn’t register the vulnerability he was in. Didn’t care to do anything but stay there. Limp. Unmoving. Cold.

Quiet.

But then his senses caught up with him, and his face flushed, and he found his own feet supporting him as he pulled away.

“Keith?” He questioned, shocked.

And then he remembered.

“You—“ he looked behind Keith to the rest of the team, “you waited?”

“Of course we waited, Lance. We wanted to make sure you were okay.” Hunk said, coming forward and bringing Lance into his embrace.

“Oh… well, I’m fine.” Lance supplied, hugging Hunk back before pulling away again. The bitter cold fatigue of the healing pod coupled with the viper grip of the quiet as it coiled around him made him eager to push past whatever conversation they wanted to have and get to his room.

“Look, I know what I did was stupid, but there weren't a whole lot of options and I couldn’t get Blue under control until I was able to actually be in control. I’m sorry I scared you guys, but I knew what I was doing… mostly.”

His voice was flat. Monotone. Exhausted. It wasn’t Lance. Not like they were used to.

Shiro sighed, “It’s okay, Lance. I can tell you’re tired, and I’d rather not get into a whole lecture. How about we just let it go and move on, okay? I think that’s what’s best for everyone at this point.”

Lance nodded, very grateful despite his inability to express it. He couldn’t express anything right now. He was too cold. Too tired. Too numb.

He brushed past everyone, walking in a slow, mechanical gate all the way up to his room. He collapsed onto his bed, and curled up tightly in his assortment of blankets. Twisting his whole body between them until he felt every pocket of cool air snuffed out by their warm embrace.

The quiet made itself at home in the familiar confines of Lance’s bedroom. Lance didn’t give a shit.

He closed his eyes, ready to sleep off the events of the day, and move on with his life.

Sadly, he was aware that his brain wouldn’t allow him to just forget about it.

For now, though, it was nice to pretend that it could.

He got up at 8:30. And by up I mean up, out of bed, dressed. Lance was feeling stubborn today. Stubborn, and slightly terrified. He didn’t want to spend another day holed up in his room, with nothing but the quiet to keep him company. Because he hated the quiet. And even though moving through it was hard. Even though breathing in it seemed near impossible. He felt like he had to.

After yesterday, he had expected hostility. Irritation. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Every time he said something, or made a joke, or tried to participate, the others would look at him disdainfully. They would barely allow him to interact. Their worry from the day before morphing into anger now that he was for sure okay.

But Lance was feeling stubborn today. So when mealtime ended he stayed with Hunk, who went to the engine room to tinker.

The clacking of metal and scraps comforted Lance. He picked up a small, miniscule object and began rolling it between his fingers.

“Hey Hunk, what is this? It’s kinda squishy.” Lance asked, and to demonstrate he squeezed his fingers a bit to feel the compression of the material.

“Lance don’t—!”

The ball exploded in a brilliant ray of multi-coloured paint. Splattering the stuff all over him, Hunk, and the workspace.

Lance sat there for a moment, then smiled. “Paint bomb! Cool!”

Apparently Hunk didn’t think it was cool. At least, not when it was… everywhere. “Listen, Lance. Maybe you can— I don’t know, go do something else.”

His voice wasn’t… aggresive, but it was curt. Sharp. On edge.

And Lance felt heavy again. His shoulders sagged, and he got to his feet. “Oh… yeah, sure thing, buddy.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked out of the engine room. The quiet lulled around him. Thick and suffocating, like the smell of ax body spray. Lance shook his head. He pushed through it. Trying to force it to let up, but it stayed. In all it’s soul consuming glory, it stayed.

So he ignored it instead. It weighed him down, but he pretended it didn’t.

He found Pidge next. He was nervous to talk to her. She was scary when she was pissed. But his fear of the quiet outweighed his fear of being yelled at.

Yelling was better than silence.

Anything was better that the quiet.

“Hey, Pidge?” he questioned, walking over as she preformed a roundhouse kick on the video game they’d got from the space small.

“Not now, Lance. I’m busy. Whatever you need help with, get someone else to do it.”

Lance shook his head. “I don’t need and help. I was just… I was just wondering if I could chill with you for a bit.”

His voice was casual, but hopeful. He begged her to say yes. He needed her to say yes.

“I— I’m not really in the mood right now.” Pidge stated, he saw the movements on her controller falter.

“Oh…”

Pidge paused the game, turning around to apologise. To say she just wanted some alone time after yesterday. She didn’t mean to be snippy with him. She was still more worried than irritated. But Lance was already walking away. His posture slumped. Defeated. Dejected.

Pidge stared for a moment, then hesitantly went back to her game.

Lance found Coran next, but he was running a high intensity diagnostics test.

“Sorry, I just don’t think you’re, uh… skillset is required for this. I’m afraid you’ll only get in the way.”

Lance sighed, his eyes downcast. He knew what Coran really meant. That he was too stupid. Too much of a fuck up to be anything useful.

“K.” He murmured, before leaving the Altean to his work.

He missed the man’s guilty, worrisome gaze as Lance walked away.

With every rejection the quiet grew stronger. Like it was a butter churn, and each person who turned Lance away sent another stroke through the substance. Letting the silence cake in his lungs.

Then he found Shiro and Allura. They were talking in the control room. He walked in, straightening ever so slightly, but not making any more effort to conceal his misery.

He couldn’t.

“Hey guys.”

They didn’t even look at him.

“Feeling better, Lance?” Allura asked, though her voice was curt. Like she wanted to reprimand him instead.

“Mhm,” he hummed, but didn’t do much more.

“We’re just working on the castle’s defense systems. Trying to find ways to improve them. Coran is downstairs right now running a diagnostics test.” Shiro explained. Though Lance could guess he wanted to be able to focus.

Lance looked back down, dropping his shoulders again. “I just saw him. Suppose my skillset isn’t required here either.”

“Afraid not. Not to worry Lance, we’ve got this under control.” Allura assured, though she wasn’t paying much attention.

Lance figured he’d find no escape from the quiet here. In fact, this room felt more clogged with the stuff than the rest of the Castle. So, Lance hummed, turned, and left the team leaders to their business.

As he walked he found the mounting emptiness grow heavier, and heavier still. Lance struggled to breathe. He felt his eyes watering, but there was no outward emotion behind them. No screwing of the face. No sobs. Just misted eyes and he hauled himself down the Castle hallways.

He needed an escape. He couldn’t let himself be taken over. He didn’t want to. He hated this feeling. He hated the quiet. He didn’t want it!

So, when he found himself knocking on Keith’s door, I guess he shouldn’t have been so surprised. Normally he wouldn’t bother the Red Paladin if he was alone in his room. He hardly bothered anyone when they were alone in their rooms. But especially not Keith.

Lance needed some noise, though. He needed the quiet gone.

So he knocked.

And he heard Keith yell. Not hostile. Just prompting. “What?!”

Lance stood there for a moment or two, leaning on the wall beside the door, bracing himself against it. Then, finally, he managed to fight the quiet. Just enough to utter one word.

“Keith?”

His voice was dry. Exhaustion seeping through as he stared at the door.

Behind the door the Red Paladin sighed, “what do you want, Lance?!”

Lance didn’t have a concrete answer. He just needed a distraction. He needed to be away from the quiet. He needed something.

But he couldn’t tell that to Keith. And Lance was done with the lying. He couldn’t lie, and pretend he was fine. Not today.

He just didn’t have the energy.

So he didn’t answer. Instead, he diverted. Asking, “what’re you doing?”

“Why is that any of your buisness?!” Keith snapped. Lance could tell he hadn’t come any closer to the door.

Lance sighed, leaning his head against the wall. More tears filled his eyes, and in that moment, he was just…

Done.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

He could tell he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Keith and he was so tired of trying.

Of fighting.

Of pretending.

So he shoved himself off the wall and started walking away. He made the short trip to his room (and by short trip I really mean short. Like a metre or two), tears slipping from his eyes as he began to walk inside.

He heard the tell tale sign of a door opening behind him, but he didn’t care anymore. He didn’t even look back as he walked into his room and closed the door behind him.

The Blue Paladin flopped onto his bed and yanked his comforter around him.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

He was so sick of fighting.

The quiet was too much. He couldn’t get away from it. He never would.

Lance gave up. He was too tired. He fucking gave up.

And the quiet lunged in. Taking the hopelessness in his soul and milking it for everything it was worth.

Keith regretted his response immediately. He’d been in the middle of a good book. And I mean, a really good fucking book.

But even as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He didn’t want to snap at Lance, it just… sort of happened.

Guilt churned in his gut as he heard Lance sigh. It was a heart wrenching sound. So full of despair, and Keith couldn’t stand it.

He shoved a bookmark between the pages before tossing the book aside. The Red Paladin stood up and hurried to the door.

He opened the door just in time to see Lance retreating into his bedroom.

“Lance?” He asked. But the door to the boy’s room was already closed.

Keith didn’t know what to do for a moment. He stood there, feeling awkward. Out of place. Of all the people on the team, Keith was pretty sure he was the least equipped to deal with social situations like this.

On the other hand, Lance had seemed so… defeated. So resigned. So sad. Keith hated it. He wanted to do nothing more than burst into Lance’s room and demand he be happy because dammit if anyone deserved it, Lance did!

Lance was their happiness. Their ray of sunshine. He was their shelter against all the threats this war faced. He was the roof over their heads. Shielding them from the rain and snow. Protecting them when the elements became too much to bare head on.

He mattered so much to Keith. So fucking much.

So Keith took a deep breath, bracing himself, and strode into the Blue Paladin’s bedroom.

What he saw was… shocking to say the least.

Lance was laid on his bed, wrapping his comforter around him burrito style as he stared blankly at the room. Tears slipped down his face, and he breathed slowly, but other than that he did not move.

Keith paused. The atmosphere in Lance’s room was heavy. Extremely heavy. And quiet. Way, way too quiet for the boy Keith hand grown to love.

No- not love.

…

Actually, yes. Love.

Fuck! Not now brain! Keith scolded himself, pushing past his momentary gay panic to the situation at hand. Even though he had no idea what to do.

“Lance?” He asked. The boy twitched, and he turned his bloodshot, teary eyes to Keith. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t get up. He didn’t move. Not the way Lance would move.

Keith began walking towards the bed, and Lance made no effort to stop him. “What’s… what’s going on?”

The Blue Paladin didn’t respond. He just looked away, turning his face ever so slightly away. Keith could see shame in his eyes, and he felt himself moving on autopilot.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. You… can talk to me if you want,” Keith soothed, stepping toward and laying a hand on Lance’s shoulder. The boy looked back up at him with sad, pleading blue eyes. Keith could see it, the struggle twisted across his face as he tried to put some semblance of energy into speaking. But alas the boy seemed to not be able to find the strength, and Keith felt his heart breaking even more.

Keith knew that Lance was the type of person who found great comfort in physical contact. He was a hugger. The type of person to wrap his arms around somebody or lean against them as they sat next to each other. He was the type of person to show his affection by brushing hands as you passed them in the hallway, or placing a hand on your shoulder when someone seemed distressed.

So, that’s probably why Keith found himself crawling beneath Lance in his blanket burrito. He manoeuvred the comforter so that it still stayed tight around Lance, but allowed room for himself as well. Keith propped his body up against a pillow, and pulled Lance close against his chest.

The Blue Paladin turned his head into the warmth of Keith’s chest, his hands letting go of the blanket in favour of clutching the Red Paladin’s shirt. Keith found that he did not mind. It felt a little uncomfortable at first, but as Lance cried into his chest, the overwhelming need to comfort him overtook any other sensation Keith was feeling. The Half-Galra ran his hands through the team sharpshooter’s brunette hair in slow, soothing motions.

Lance seemed to relax as well. His whole body shuddered in, what Keith hoped, was relief as strong arms held him tight and close. Sheltering him from whatever had been weighing on his mind.

They stayed like that, silently drinking each other in, for a couple of minutes before Kieth heard Lance murmur softly into Keith’s shirt.

“Talk.” He pleaded. Gripping Keith tighter. As if he were afraid that the words would make Keith pull away.

Even though that was not Keith’s intentions, at all, he was still a little confused. “Talk? About?” He asked, keeping his voice quiet and soft.

“Anything.” Lance breathed. After a few moments he added in a much more desperate tone, “please?”

“Okay… why… don’t I tell you about the book I’m reading?” He asked. It was a question, he wasn’t sure if Lance would be interested in a topic like that.

But, Lance nodded slightly, not even making a jab at Keith for being a nerd. Keith took it as a yes. Whatever was bothering Lance, it must be pretty bad if he wasn’t even trying to make fun of Keith.

So Keith started talking.

“That’s what I was doing when you came by, you know. I kinda lose track of stuff when I’m reading sometimes.” He explained, before pushing on. “Anyways, it’s about this kid. He’s always been different from other kids. He’s got ADHD and dyslexia, and weird things always seem to happen that get him kicked out of schools. He’s got this cool mom and this deadbeat dad. But then his mom dies and he’s taken to this camp where he finds out his teacher is a centaur, the Greek gods are real and he is a demigod…”

Keith was sure he was being boring. Uninteresting. He was sure Lance didn’t care and he’d want Keith to talk about something else.

But, when Keith looked down he saw Lance peeking out from where his head was buried, just a little bit, to look up at Keith. He had relaxed even more now, and Keith took it as a good sign.

So he kept talking. Even when he was sure Lance was bored out of mind he kept talking. Because for whatever his rambling was worth, it seemed to help.

So he kept talking. Pushing away the silence with his words of grandeur, fantasy and adventure.

As he spoke, Lance’s presence seemed to become lighter. Happier. More like the Lance that Kieth had grown to love. The Lance, he realised, that he hadn’t seen much of in a long time.

That made Keith happy.

The more Keith spoke. The longer he laid there, running his long fingers through Lance’s hair, the farther away the quiet fled. Lance knew he had no idea how much he was helping, but the sharpshooter was grateful for him nonetheless.

When Keith’s narration of the novel he was reading came to an end, Lance was able to pull himself up, and drag himself off Keith’s lap. He unwrapped the comforter, and repositioned himself so that he was sitting beside Keith. His cheeks flushed a bit at the proximity, both now and previously. But he supposed he was kind of past the point of pulling away now.

He leaned against his companion’s shoulder as he spoke, “thank you, Keith. I…I needed that.”

Keith turned his head to him, and Lance felt sweat on his brow as the Red Paladin asked, “do you… wanna talk about it? You seemed… really upset.”

Lance wasn’t sure he wanted to. But… Keith was here. He’d seen Lance wrapped deep in the claws of the quiet… and he hadn’t run away. It hadn’t plagued him too. In fact, he’d made it go away.

So… maybe…

“You don’t have to. But you can… if you want.” Keith added as Lance pondered. The Red Paladin took Lance’s hand in his own. Lance wasn’t sure when Keith became so keen on physical contact, but he liked it. “I promise I’ll listen.”

Lance smiled, and apparently that was all the reassurance he needed.

He took a deep breath, resting his head on Keith’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt right. Being this close to Keith just felt… safe. Homey. Like he belonged there. “I… I don’t know how to explain it. I just… sometimes it’s just quiet. Too quiet. And heavy.”

He didn’t think he was making sense. But Keith listened regardless.

“And it’s like… it’s hard to do things. Like talk. Or move. Or just… function. And lately it’s been… I don’t know, it’s just been so much. And I just—“ his voice broke as tears filled his vision, but he carried on, “I keep trying to find people. Because hanging out with people usually makes it go away. But I haven’t been— it hasn’t— and then today I tried and…”

He whisked his tears away as Keith moved his arm around Lance and pulled him closer.

The Blue Paladin took a deep breath before continuing. “Today nobody wanted me around. And I just- I really needed— I didn’t want to be alone again. I didn’t want it to be quiet. I just needed someone but… but everyone kept telling me to go away and that made it so much worse.”

Lance was aware that he was shaking now. Keit’s grip tightened.

“And I just couldn’t… do it anymore. I was just so tired of pretending that I was okay. Of fighting to keep going despite how much I just wanted to stop. And I just couldn’t— I just wanted to give up and I couldn’t—“

He sobbed, and turned his head so that his face was buried in the soft, pale skin of Keith’s neck.

The hand returned in his hair, and Keith cooed at him softly.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here now. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Lance sobbed harder, and Keith let him.

He didn’t cry long. Most of his tears had already been spent, and also he just… didn’t need to. Having Keith here, it helped. He didn’t feel so alone in his mind. The world didn’t feel as chokingly silent.

It made the tears dry faster than they ever had before.

“Thank you Keith. For listening and… and for being here. I really didn’t… didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Of course. I’ll always be here for you, Lance. We all will. But…” he paused, unsure if this was the right thing to say. He shook off the hesitation, he had to know, “why didn’t you just tell us what was going on in the first place? You never had to be alone. We could have helped you.”

Lance shrugged, keeping his body situated comfortably against the Red Paladin. “I… I thought I could deal with my own problems. I didn’t want you guys to worry. I didn’t want to be a… a burden.”

Keith shook his head, “Lance, if you’re hurting, I want to be able to help. And I know the rest of the team feels the same. You can’t, — fuck— you can’t let yourself suffer all alone. Knowing that you’ve been struggling and I didn’t even know. I— it— it fucking hurts man.”

Lance sighed, but he didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure there was anything that needed to be said.

Keith sighed as well, letting his head lean against Lance’s.

“Just… promise me you’ll tell me when you’re feeling all… gloomy. No matter what I’m doing, I’ll help. And— and when you’re ready, I think you should tell the rest of the team. If I’m not here I want to know you’re gonna be okay.”

“I’d be okay.”

“No, Lance, I mean really okay! Not ‘I’m pushing through it and ignoring it so I’m fine’ okay!”

Lance wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“Promise me?” Keith pleaded, squeezing Lance’s hand tighter.

Wow, Keith begging was new. Lance didn’t think he could say no to it. So, feeling like he didn’t have much of a choice, he surrendered.

“Okay. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Keith breathed, his grip tightening again.

Lance, for the first time in a while, completely forgot what it was like for the world to be quiet. Lance relished the feeling. This feeling of complete and utter contempt. He knew it wouldn’t stay forever. He knew the quiet would return and he’d return to the daily battle of just existing in his own brain.

But the task didn’t feel as daunting anymore. Because Lance wasn’t fighting alone anymore. Laying in his bed, wrapped up in Keith’s warm embrace…

It was the farthest from the quiet than Lance had ever been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Note: Did I shamelessly plug Percy Jackson into this fic? Yes. Do I also feel like it’s in character for Keith to relate to a book about kids not knowing who they are and feeling different their whole life only to find out they are NOT completely human? Also yes!)

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