Archive of Our Own

Keith couldn't hear anything over the blood pumping in his ears.

This battle had been going on for too long. He'd been cut, grazed with a bullet, had an ion cannon shot at him, and despite everything, with all of their efforts, the battle was still going on. It was never ending.

While the fight began in the air, they had to move onto solid ground to try and stop the assault on the planet itself. Keith could barely remember why they were fighting in the first place - but he knew that protecting this planet was incredibly important. Hundred of soldiers and sentries littered the ground, soaked in motor oil and blood, and yet more still appear. As if they were being trained and created all at once. He could feel the strain of every one of his muscles, the sweat collecting in his suit, the way his body begged for reprieve. But he couldn't stop.

People were counting on them. On him. Hundreds of coalition members fought alongside them, protecting this planet from the Galra; and he'd lost too many good people in this battle today already. Allies he'd shared drinks with, at galas and banquets he didn't even want to be at. There was only one thing that could get him to stop and slow down now.

The strangled sound of Lance's scream over the comms.

"Lance? What was that?"

Between the sharp metallic sounds of blades hitting armor, he could hear Lance's ragged breathing and cursing under his breath.

"Minor wound."

"Lance."

"I'm fine. Some dude threw a dagger at me, sliced my shoulder a bit. It's not too deep, but it is bleeding a lot."

Keith could hear the exhaustion in Lance's voice, but just from the sheer honesty of his statement, he knew how badly it was affecting him. His team couldn't keep fighting like this.

He took a moment. A quick breath, a pause found in between the rush around him, to gauge everything in his surroundings. He let the pounding of his heart mimic the drone of silence just long enough for a plan to formulate.

"Lance. Retreat to Blue, I'll meet you there and patch you up. In the meantime, Pidge, test out your new frequency jammer on the sentries — see if we can at least disable them so we can focus our efforts on the higher ranking soldiers. Shiro, cover Pidge. Hunk, when those sentries disable, we'll only have a few minutes to spare in the confusion. I want you to focus on gunning down as many soldiers that are left standing. Guns blazing, bombs if we need. Does everyone understand?"

He hears a quick round of affirmatives before nodding.

"Good. Go, now!" He ordered before immediately beginning his retreat to Blue. He kept an eye on his surroundings as he moved, slicing down as many enemies as he could. Blue isn't too far thankfully, just at the outskirts of the bloodbath, but that doesn't make it an easy trek.

His focused wavered, and an enemy twice his size made easy work of catching him off guard. He was cornered for a moment, blades clashing and pinning him to his knees. He struggled — groaning under the weight when, with a quick flash, the weight fell instantly. He stood quickly, looking up and meeting Lance's eye line.

Lance stood triumphantly atop Blue's foot, slowly lowering his gun and giving Keith a smirk. Smug ass. Keith felt a bit of tension leave him, rolling his eyes and grinning lightly as he jogged the rest of the way to Blue, Lance covering him the whole way there.

When he reached Blue, he was met with Lance's wide grin as he was pulled into the cockpit.

"I looked pretty badass out there, didn't I?" Lance smirked, putting his bayard back and using his now-free hand to put pressure on the wound with a slight hiss.

"Yeah, yeah, Sit down." He grabbed the first aid kit, trying to move quickly. Lance at least could see his haste and listened, taking a quick seat.

He opened the first aid kit while Lance continued chatting. Keith couldn't deny that it brought him some sense of relief to hear Lance being so chatty. It's better that way, a silent Lance is never a good thing.

"Do you ever wonder how the castle keeps fixing up our suits? Like, they always seem perfectly pristine when we get suited up, even our armor!" Lance asked as Keith sprayed disinfectant over the wound. He hissed slightly, but continued, "I mean, I knew Altean technology was incredible, but seriously. I wish I could put all my laundry into whatever magic-fixing system the castle has."

Keith hummed, ignoring the slight shake of his hand as he prepared the thread and needle.

"Keith, the Galra — they've started retreating!" Pidge informed him, and Keith took a moment to turn, glancing out at the field below them. Surely enough, the remaining soldiers had begun retreating to their ships, but Keith couldn't let out a breath of relief just yet.

"Head to your lions, and be prepared for any air-assaults. Don't let your guard down just yet."

He refocused on Lance, setting the needle into place before looking up at Lance.

"Grab my shoulder. Squeeze as hard as you need to."

"I'll be fine. I trust you, babe," Lance grinned. Keith just nodded, carefully beginning the grueling process of stitching up Lance's shoulder. Lance squeezed his shoulder hard, and he could hear the groans Lance tried to hide.

"Y'know," Lance spoke through a clenched throat, "this is almost romantic. If you think about it."

He frowned. "Run me through that?"

"It's like," he cleared his throat to cover up a hiss, "the only way to save me is to do the last thing you want. To save me you have to hurt me and all that."

He continued his careful work of stitching the slash of Lance's shoulder, pausing occasionally to clean up the blood so he could see where he was stitching.

"I guess so, yeah. I do hate having to hurt you," He looked up and met Lance's eyes, smiling softly at him. "But it's worth it, though this wouldn't kill-"

He could see the moment Lance's eyes shift from Keith to the monitor behind him.

He saw the moment the fear hit Lance all at once.

Neither of them had noticed the static pouring through the comms.

He saw Lance's mouth moving, but he didn't hear him, too focused on his eyes zeroing in on their doom.

An ion gun. Aimed straight for them.

Not primed. Not warming up.

Because it had already fired.

He felt Lance's arms wrap around him, and he did the same, trying to protect Lance's body with his own at all if possible. The fear settled deep into his bones, and he shut his eyes tightly.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

.

.

.

The moment never came.

They kept holding each other, and a minute passes. Then another. And another.

And yet, they remained.

Still shaking, Keith opened his eyes and pulled back. Slowly.

"Are - did we die?"

Keith looked around. The interior of Blue looked… fine. Disabled and out of power. But not shattered and ruined. Her monitor was down, so they had no view of the battle around them anymore. Their comms were still down. But they were here.

"No. I- we're fine, I think." He took a deep breath. He doesn't understand how they're fine. But… they are.

Lance went to move, but Keith put a hand on his chest.

"Hold on. Let me finish stitching you up, then we'll go figure out what happened, okay?"

He could see the resistance in Lance's eyes, so he did his best impression of a pleading look.

"Fine. But we're going out there the second you're done."

"Alright," Keith nodded, before going back to work.

He tried to work quickly, because the silence was killing him too, but he could see the bounce of Lance's leg and the way his fingers tapped anxiously. The rest of his stitching was done in silence, as quickly as possible.

As Keith sprayed down the wound once more, Lance hissed and groaned in pain, louder than before.

"Keith, I'm dying-"

"What? Are you injured somewhere else? Where?" He moved around, looking over Lance to try and find some other wound.

"No," he sighed, pouting slightly, "I just really wanna get out there and figure out what's happening."

Keith groaned, lightly smacking Lance's chest, "Don't scare me like that." He huffed, bandaging Lance's arm before standing and helping Lance up.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just - I'm anxious! I don't like not knowing what's going on!"

"Me neither," he sighed. He steadied himself where he stands. He's still shaking, and he's still completely exhausted. He knew he was bleeding somewhere himself, but he couldn't bring himself to focus on that right now.

Lance noticed though.

"Are you sure you're okay to go back out? You don't look the best," he wrapped his uninjured arm around Keith's waist, eyes full of concern. His eyes scanned over Keith, but Keith shifted away from his gaze.

"I'll be fine. At least until we figure out what's going on."

Lance frowned, but it's not like he could fly them back to the castle with Blue down like this.

Lance kept a hand on Keith's back as they made their way to Blue's cockpit door, both pulling out their bayards in preparation for whatever they'd find.

"You ready?" Keith asked.

"Always." Lance grinned.

Keith hit open the cockpit door, and they both braced themselves for… nothing.

It was dark and cold and silent, except for the faint sound of rushing water. And definitely not where they had just been battling.

They looked at each other, frowning. Keith stepped forward, placing a hand on the wall in front of them. It's… familiar and a deep reddish brown. The sound of rushing water was coming from somewhere behind them.

Lance let his hand rest on the wall as well, and within moments, blue designs and illustrations lit up the cave walls around them.

"Oh, my god," Lance sobbed out, pulling his hand back, "Are we-?"

"It's Earth," Keith confirmed. "But that- this doesn't make sense. How did we get here?"

Lance took a deep breath, "Maybe we really did die."

Keith frowned, pulling his hand down from the wall, "Come on. Maybe it's just a trick or something. Let's see if we can find our way out."

He took careful steps as he walked an arch around Blue. Her eyes didn't light up at all, and her particle barrier was down. The cave felt lifeless without her glow. He could see the waterfall, and he let his eyes drift up to the ceiling of the cave. Except…

Maybe he was misremembering things, but he could have sworn they fell through the floor. He could have sworn that they fell through the floor when they all came here, but now, the ceiling-slash-floor of the cave seemed perfectly fine. Thankfully though, there's just enough of an opening by the top of the waterfall for them to go through it.

Lance took his hand as they activated their jetpacks, flying up and making their way out of the cave fully. They settled on top of the mouth of the cave, giving them a good vantage point of the land around them. And it's all… the same, it's Earth.

"Lance…"

"We're home," Lance gasped softly. "We're actually home."

Keith frowned, looking out into the distance. "Something's not right about this…"

"How did we get here? I- I need to find my family-"

"How did we get here? How did the Blue Lion get here? I don't-" Keith's breath caught in his throat. A spot in the distance catches his eye. He gripped onto Lance's arm tightly.

"Lance. This isn't right. Something's wrong."

Lance frowned, "What are you talking about, Keith? What's wrong?"

He took a deep breath, shaking his head, "This can't be real. There- that-"

"Excuse me, gentlemen."

Keith felt his blood run cold. His eyes widened, and his throat closed up.

He didn't want to turn around because this couldn't be real. He knew that voice. He knew who was behind him.

His father.

He does turn, and he looked exactly as he remembered him. Well, a bit younger actually.

Lance turned with him, and he had no clue about Keith's inner turmoil. Lance kept a hand on his back at first, but the click of a gun had both of them lifting their hands up.

Thank the stars that Lance is there, because Keith can't get a single word out.

"Woah, sorry. We mean no harm or anything, just passing through."

His father chuckled, holding the gun steady, "Now, you know I can't just believe that. I heard you," he pointed his gun at Keith, "mention the Blue Lion. How do you know about that?"

Keith frowned, murmuring more to himself than anyone else, "You know about Blue?"

Lance took over, "I'm her paladin. We're paladins of Voltron. We don't know how we got here, but I'm Blue's paladin. Look, this armor I wear, it's her color and I can summon her bayard and everything."

"How do I know you're not tryin' to take her?" His gruff voice spoke, eyebrow raised. Keith never realized just how fucking terrifying his dad could be. "I'm Blue's protector here on Earth, it's my job to make sure no one is tryin' to steal her out from under me. So give me some reason to believe ya."

If there was a level between extremely confused and totally fucking lost it, Keith was somewhere there right now. He had no clue about Blue until he was seventeen, yet somehow, his dad knew about her?

Maybe he shouldn't be too surprised. After all, his dad's first instinct upon meeting a crash-landed Galra was to fall in love with her.

Keith felt like his brain was overheating. He ran out of brain power at least halfway through the fight, he still didn't know what was going on, how his dad was here, how they were on Earth, hell, if this was even real.

Maybe that's what the ion gun did — even though he knew that couldn't be true, he watched that ion cannon obliterate one of their ally ships — maybe they were in a joint-coma or something.

He could hear them talking still, but he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, and his body already felt too weak to handle anything else. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he couldn't feel his legs. He was still bleeding somewhere, and all of his muscles felt like they were collapsing, All he could do was stare at this ghost — his father — as memories poured through his mind over and over.

He forced himself to think back to the Marmora trials, trying to spot the line between reality and mental games, but he only found more confusion. Because in the trials, his mind could only create so much. There was nothing outside of the memory of his childhood home, just white void and vague sounds. But here… everything looked real, he could see as far as the wide horizon, that tiny home of his in the distance, not burned down like it should've been.

Even the air smelled right, the only way home could ever smell with the dry air and dust and distinct, almost chalk-like scent that would be brought up with every footstep. The same scent that becomes overwhelming when you fly through the air on a hoverbike — or when you're trying to run back in after your father into a burning home as you watch the banisters cave in.

He kept working through the senses Sight, smell, sound, feel, taste. He focused on his dad. He looked right. He didn't look too perfect, the slight haze his mind likes to add in his memories; he still had the grit of himself, and Keith could see everything from the dirt under his fingernails (where they held the gun), to that one, tiny patch of gray in the scruff of his beard.

The next sense was easy. He couldn't feel much right now anyway. But what he could feel was the crunch of the dust and gravel beneath his boots, just as familiar as the day he left. As far as taste, he couldn't focus on any taste outside of feel of the cotton in his mouth. He didn't know if it was the shock or the dehydration that was getting to him.

Every sign pointed to this being real. But it couldn't be. There was no way it could be. How could it be?

He didn't know, and he wished Pidge was here because at least they'd be able to figure out some tech or scientific thing that could tell him if this is real or not.

He was glad he had Lance here at least, because Lance could get through to him like nobody else could.

" -eith. Keith. Babe- hey."

Keith's eyes focused back in. He didn't know when he'd fully lost the conversation at hand, but Lance was standing in front of him, holding his hips steady.

His dad was watching them with a curious glint in his eye. But he wasn't holding up the gun anymore. How much did Keith miss?

"What?"

Lance took his hand, gently squeezing, "Are you with me?"

"I… think so." He frowned, eyes dancing around once more as he whispered, "What's going on?"

"He's still suspicious of us, but I told him about my family and Earth, so he at least believes we're not immediate threats."

He nodded, slowly. "Right. Okay. I- Lance, is this real?"

Lance's eyes darkened, and he moved his hands, checking Keith's head, "Did you-"

"No. Well- yes, but- no. Lance-" He paused, glancing behind Lance. His dad was staring them both down, caution and suspicion clear on his face. Keith leaned his head down into Lance's shoulder, using it as cover as he activated his comm.

"Something is wrong."

Lance followed his lead, carefully hugging Keith and rubbing his back as he responded into their direct line.

"What is it?"

"This is going to sound crazy, but, Lance, that's my dad."

It takes Lance a second. He goes through a whole mix of emotions. From confusion, disbelief, shock. Before finally, he chose not to question Keith at all.

"Then… this can't be real, right?"

"I don't know — I can't tell. Everything seems real. I-" Keith paused, leaning deeper against Lance. Fuck, he couldn't even keep a straight line of thought for more than a moment.

Lance rubbed his back gently, "Okay, we have to figure this out later. You're not okay right now."

Apprehensively, Lance turned to the older man. Keith tried to keep his eyes down, knowing he had no fight in him right now.

"My partner here needs some help. We were in a battle before we got here. We'll be willing to continue this discussion later, but first, please, he needs help. Just — if you could show us the way to the Galaxy Garrison, we can get some help, and then we will figure everything out," Lance did a good show of sounding both authoritative and pleading. However, it didn't help much.

"That might be a bit of a problem. The Galaxy Garrison hasn't opened yet, it's still bein' built."

Keith didn't get a chance for the shock to settle in. Last thing he could recall was the ground rushing to meet him, and a tight grip just barely keeping him from kissing the dirt.

When Keith finally stirred awake, he figured he was dreaming.

The spare room he laid in looked exactly how he remembered it growing up. It was simple, just like the rest of the house, all soft brown walls and matching furniture, either bought secondhand or built from scratch. The house always smelled the same. Leather and wood, the gardenia candle his dad would burn to cover the smell of smoke from his work uniform, and the dust in the breeze coming in through the open windows.

He glanced out the open window. Everything looked exactly right. Not a single detail was distorted.

He was home.

He sat up slowly, looking over himself for a moment. He'd been changed out of his paladin armor, and he was wearing clothes that he recognized as being his dad's. It felt unsettling. They lost most of his dad's stuff in the fire. He hadn't seen these clothes in years, and he never was able to fit into them in the first place. Now… they were only a bit too big.

He'd been bandaged up. In a lot of places. He knew he hadn't been doing good, but this seemed extreme. He was bandaged on his head, his left bicep, right shoulder, his stomach, and his left thigh. He had too much adrenaline before to really feel the pain, but he could feel the ache now.

It still felt like a bit much. Lance's handiwork, he's sure.

Speaking of Lance, the boy was knocked out against the bed. He looked surprisingly peaceful, sitting in the small side chair with his head on the bed, cradled by his arms. He still wore most of his under suit, but his regular armor laid on the ground next to him. His suit was partially unzipped, and he wore one of Keith's dad's old hunting jackets.

He reached out and lightly carded a hand through Lance's hair. They still had so much to figure out, and he was still so completely and utterly confused. But right now, they weren't in any immediate danger, for the first time in hours.

This place felt safe, there were no enemies here chasing them, no guns pointed at them or blood spraying. It was just the quiet of the night, the oil lamp burning low to the side, and Lance's soft breathing to his left.

Soft footsteps, and a knock on the door, drew his attention away from Lance. His dad stood there, in the open doorway, and once again, Keith felt like he couldn't breathe. He felt five years old all over again, sitting up and waiting for his dad to come back from a late shift. Sitting with a book under the covers while he was supposed to be asleep, and somehow, always getting caught. He looked back at Lance, only to cover the tears welling in his eyes.

He needed to get it together.

"Glad to see you're awake. You nearly took quite a fall there. Looked pretty bad off," His dad spoke, making his way into the room. "Thankfully, your boyfriend here really cares about you. Carried you back here, spent a good bit of time patching you up."

Keith wanted to stay silent. He wanted to remain stoic, in the hope or fear that this is just some cruel trick. But he couldn't do that to his father.

"He's a real good man. I'm lucky to have him," He answered simply, lightly running the back of his fingers across Lance's cheek.

He heard the soft sound of his father settling into the other chair on the other side of the bed. "He told me a good bit about himself. You care to do the same?"

He turned his head, finally getting a better look at his father. It was almost unsettling.

There were details that, when he tried to envision, were just faint blurs in his mind. The scar on his eyebrow was darker and more jagged than he remembered, and the lines on his face were deeper set than he noticed as a child.He was too focused on all these details to really say anything, so his father spoke again.

"He said your name is Keith. That's my son's name too."

I know. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." There's clearly more to his statement, but Keith doesn't call him on it. The silence returned, and he returned to staring down at his hands.

"I don't… really have much to say, I guess."

His dad chuckled lightly, "Humble. Especially considering all the battlin' y'all seem to get up to in space."

"How do you know about all of that? Space and Blue and… all that?"

Keith knew the answer. But he wanted to hear it from his dad, the way he was supposed to.

His dad gave a slight smirk, eyes softening, "Well, the love of my life is up there, fightin' everyday."

He nodded softly, staring back down at his hands, "Does she visit?"

"No," he hummed, and Keith looked up at him. Because he didn't sound sad or upset. Not like Keith spent his entire life being. "It's dangerous for her here, and it's dangerous for me if she stays here. She didn't want to leave, but the government was getting suspicious. It was safer for our son if she left. She'll be back, one day. I don't mind waitin' for her."

"Does your son know?"

Keith kept his head down to hide the budding tears.

His father goes quiet for a moment, before letting out a soft sigh, "As of now, no. But I try to tell him every day how his momma is out in those stars, fightin' to give him a better life. To protect him one day."

Keith choked up, thankful for the long bangs he could hide his face behind. He took deep breaths, trying his hardest to regain some sense of composure. So much for trying to hide any sense of emotional attachment he had to this situation.

Lance shuffling next to him brought him out of it. He blinked slowly, sitting up.

"Keith?"

Keith gently ran a hand through Lance's hair, "I'm here. Come up."

Lance nodded, still waking up slightly as he moved to share the small bed with Keith. As he woke up slightly, he took note of Keith's tear-warmed face.

"Is… everything alright?"

"Yeah," Keith answered. "I think I'm just overwhelmed. Post-mission come down and all, you know?"

"Right," he nodded slowly. He took a moment to look over all of Keith's bandages, while Keith just breathed slowly.

Once Keith calmed down, he placed a gentle kiss to Lance's cheek, before looking back up at his dad.

"Sorry. It's just… been a long time since I saw my family is all."

His father nodded, looking over him slowly, his eyes holding some deep understanding. "Well, I'm sorry if I struck a chord or somethin'."

"No, it's not your fault, I just-"

"Pa?"

Keith's head shot up, and he went pin straight. In the doorway, a small boy stood. He must've been just about five. And Keith knew that face. He'd seen it in the mirror so many times growing up.

More importantly, Keith knew this memory. Growing up, he thought it was a dream. Waking up to two Space Rangers in the middle of the night, the stories his dad told him about how they were helping his mom get back to him.

They weren't random space rangers. They were him and Lance. How could he never realize?

"Excuse me, boys. I'll just be a moment." His dad stood, walking over to the little boy, rubbing his eyes with his fist.

When the door was mostly shut behind his father, Keith let out a soft breath.

"Was that…"

"Yeah," Keith ran a hand down his face, "I don't know how I never put two and two together."

Lance shrugged, "Well, timelines are weird. Maybe you're only just now seeing the memory because this is the first time in the timeline this has happened, so current you has to develop the memory that past you had in order to keep a paradox from forming."

Keith looked up at him, chuckling softly, "I love when you go all smart on me."

Lance smiled bashfully, burying his face against Keith's shoulder. After a moment, he settled, wrapping his arms around Keith's waist gently.

"Seriously, though. How are you handling all of this?"

Keith sighed quietly, leaning back into Lance's hold, "I don't think I am handling it yet. It's… a lot, for sure. Mostly it's fucking surreal."

"I believe that," Lance snorted softly, "I mean, even I find it pretty surreal."

"Oh yeah? Is that why you were apparently talking to him a bunch?" Keith smiled slyly at him.

Lance flushed, "Hey, in my defense, I ramble when I'm nervous, and you were knocked out. Also… I wanted to make a good impression."

"You did?" He tilted his head, "Why?"

Lance pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, humming, "Even if he doesn't know who you are, I still want him to like me. He's your dad, after all. I'm on thin enough ice with your mom."

Keith snorted softly, leaning his head against Lance's. "That's… really sweet. And my mom loves you."

"She spent all of last week's briefing glaring at me!"

"Exactly! If she didn't like you, she'd be trying to challenge you to combat."

Lance took one look at Keith before the two of them were bursting into quiet laughter. Under the soft, cool desert breeze, and the faint orange glow, it felt like they were in their own little world. Keith pressed his forehead against Lance's, gently taking Lance's hand.

"I'm so glad you're here with me," he whispered, "I think I'd be losing my shit if I was dealing with this alone."

"You aren't losing your shit?"

"Shut up," he laughed, squeezing Lance's hand, "You know what I meant."

Lance chuckled softly, "Yeah, I do. I'm glad I'm here with you too. At least for the chance to get to meet your dad."

"Yeah," he hummed softly, slowly pulling apart, "It's weird, but… it's nice. I feel like I'm seeing him for the first time in a way. My memories of him are so… faded."

"You don't have any photos or anything?" Lance asked softly, his hand coming up to gently brush his thumb over Keith's cheek.

"No," he shook his head softly, "I know some existed, but… with the fire and everything, you know?"

Lance frowned, nodding softly, "Yeah. There weren't any in the shack?"

"Nah," Keith smiled, memories flooding back into his brain, "he only used the shack to wash up after coming back from work. Always told me that he didn't want to risk me smellin' like smoke all the time."

A soft knock kept Lance from answering, both boys turning to face the door.

Keith's dad stood there, cradling a young Keith gently in his arms. It was odd, to see himself, so unburdened by the life he is yet to have. He looked so peaceful.

"I gotta take this kiddo off to bed. And frankly, I'm an old man. I'mma nod off myself. There's extra snacks and water in the cupboard. Holler if you need anything."

They both said their brief good nights, with Keith barely avoiding a slip up of calling him "Pa", before the door finally shut. Even with them both having just woken up, they were both still pretty exhausted.

Lance gently pulled Keith down over his chest, keeping his arms wrapped loosely around the other boy. He took a deep breath, settling against him.

"We'll make it through this," Lance reassured him quietly, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

"We've been through weirder."

Lance snickered softly, burying his face against the top of Keith's head, "we definitely have. I mean, really, it was about time we dealt with a bit of time travel."

Keith snorted, devolving into quiet laughter once more. Once they'd both calmed down enough to be considered sleepy, Keith looked up at Lance, a gentle, love-struck expression on his face.

"I love you so much."

Lance leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, "I love you too. We'll figure everything out in the morning, alright?"

Keith nodded, finally allowing himself to really relax. And if the combination of the smell of his childhood home and being wrapped up in the arms of the man he loved had Keith drifting into the best sleep he'd felt in years, that was between him and the stars.

Keith woke up warm.

There were warm arms wrapped gently around his frame, a warm blanket tossed over his legs, and a warm heat coming through the still-cracked window. The early desert heat was always so calming, before the sun rose to the top of the sky and it became overwhelming. After the cool air of the nights, the gentle warmth the early morning provided was the epitome of home for Keith. Keith was pervaded by warmth, even through the scent of a fresh, hot pot of coffee rising to his nostrils and cutting through the dust and wood.

He carefully untangled himself from Lance's arms, not wanting to disturb his sleep, and he took a moment to remember how to use his limbs. He carefully stretched his legs out, being careful not to mess up any of his bandages.

Once he felt stable, he stopped in at the bathroom to freshen up, and he felt haunted by the familiarity of halls that, to him, no longer existed. Ghosts of his memories flashed before him, as if he could see himself running through the halls after school or running to show his dad something cool he found in the dirt. He placed a hand on the wall, memorizing as much of the texture and nicks in the paint as he could.

He continued moving along towards the kitchen, and despite the scent of hot coffee, the house was completely empty.

It didn't matter too much. He still remembered where everything was.

He grabbed his favorite mug, an old red tin mug his dad would bring when they went camping, and poured himself a cup of coffee, taking a moment to breathe the scent in deeply of real, human, coffee.

The coffee they got out here was the cheap stuff, but even that tasted heavenly compared to the faux counterpart Hunk had managed to make out in space. He savored the slightly acidic bite of the coffee as he walked around his old living room, a mix of longing and nostalgia filling him as he tried his hardest to memorize every crack in the floorboards and take in the real proof of a childhood he could barely even remember.

He was staring at a photo on the wall — him in his dad's arms in the woods, holding up a black stone — when he felt arms wrap around his waist and pull him close. He didn't even flinch, just melted into Lance's arms.

"Mornin," he hummed softly.

Lance just grumbled softly, burying his face into Keith's shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to any area he could reach. He took a deep breath before placing his chin on his shoulder.

"Good morning, babe. How're you feeling?"

"Mm," Keith shrugged, "Alright, I guess."

"As normal as you can feel?"

"Yeah."

Lance nodded softly, squeezing Keith closer while keeping his hold gentle.

"Is that coffee?"

"Yeah. Actual coffee," Keith lifted his mug towards Lance's face, "want a sip?"

Lance nodded, straightening up to take Keith's mug. He takes a slow sip, humming in appreciation before handing it back to Keith.

"Man, that's good. I'm shocked you didn't add a bunch of sugar to it."

Keith snorted softly, "I was too excited about the concept of non-space coffee for the thought to even cross my mind."

Lance chuckled, draping himself back on top of Keith once he handed the mug back. He looked at the wall that still held Keith's attention.

"That's you and him?"

"Yeah," Keith nodded softly. "I remember that day. It was my fifth birthday, so he took me camping like we did every year. I was determined to set up the fire on my own, so while my Pa set up the tent, I went into our pack and snagged the striker. I took all the dry brush, made this huge pile of brush and wood, and I got to work finding a good piece of flint. And I did."

He chuckled softly, "It's what I'm holding up in the photo. Because all I saw was a nice and shiny piece of flint. But after I got the fire going, and burnt up a bit of my hair in the process, my dad came over to make sure that I was okay. And what he showed me was that I didn't just find a random piece of flint, but a flint arrowhead. And he said to me 'Keith, I can tell you're your mother's son, because only you and her could search for something simple and end up findin' a weapon.'"

Lance laughed softly, nodding, "Yeah, he definitely has a point with that."

"He definitely does," he smiled softly, "I didn't know we had a photo from that day. I didn't even think we had this many photos in general."

"Really?" Lance frowned, holding Keith a bit tighter.

He nodded, "Yeah. None of them survived the fire. The only reason I really remember what he looked like was from the newspaper clippings after he died."

"I'm sorry," He whispered, "I can't imagine how tough that must've been."

"It's-"

His statement is cut off by the door opening. They both straighten, looking up as his father walks into the house.

"Ah, boys. Glad to see you're awake. Had to take the kiddo out to school. Y'all ready to head back to Blue?"

Keith nodded, "Just need to get our armor back on."

"Alright, well, I'll be out here when you're ready," He spoke gruffly, moving to take a seat on the couch with a newspaper. Lance had to pull him away, too entranced by a sight so familiar.

Putting their paladin armor back on was a bit of a process given the sheer amount of bandages covering Keith's body, but Lance helped with the whole thing. His hands were gentle as he helped pull Keith's undersuit on, and Keith had to hold back a shudder from the feeling of the stiff, blood-dried, fabric.

It was a silent, sweet exchange, Lance's hands carefully and gently running over Keith's body, peppering kisses where he could.

Lance knelt in front of Keith, helping put his shin guards and leg armor on. When he was done, Keith reached a hand out, cradling Lance's cheek gently.

Lance kissed his palm gently, leaning his face into his touch, "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "I think I'll be alright for now."

"Tell me if you're not, okay?"

"I will," he hummed, pulling him closer. He kissed him softly and sweetly, with so much love behind it.

Lance kissed him back with just as much love, slowly pulling back.

"You ready, Samurai?"

"As much as I can be, Sharpshooter."

The trek to Blue was filled with an overwhelming sense of deja-vu. Especially since his father was dressed in the uniform Keith gave to Shiro, letting them ride the spare hoverbike he had been teaching Keith how to fix up.

Blue's particle barrier was still down, but her eyes held a faint glow to them.

Lance smiled, walking up and gently patting Blue's paw, "Hi, gorgeous."

Her eyes flickered weakly in recognition, and Keith watched as Lance closed his eyes, setting his forehead against the metal of her leg.

"What's he doin'?" His dad asked quietly.

"The lions can communicate with us," Keith hummed softly, "when they're weak, it's harder to understand them. He's focusing on their mind link to understand her better."

His dad nodded in understanding, and they both went quiet as Lance continued to focus. A few minutes later, he leaned back, walking to Blue's service panel.

"Keith, can you grab the maintenance kit from the cockpit?" He called out as he opened up the service panel. Keith jogged over, heading into Blue's cockpit. It was eerie to see her lights so dimmed, but he didn't focus too much on that, grabbing the tool kit and meeting Lance back outside.

"So, apparently, Blue panicked," Lance spoke, opening the tool kit and starting to work on the wires, "When she saw the ion cannon aimed for us, she knew she couldn't get out of the way fast enough, so she protected us and herself. She shorted out her power supply before the ion cannon hit and used that power to send us back to a time when she knew it would be safe. So, back when she was being protected and isolated on Earth. Since she wasn't using a lot of power in this time, she knew this version of herself would have enough power to safely receive us."

"But she was on Earth for years, why now specifically?" Keith asked.

Lance chuckled, "Basically, you know how your phone will sometimes be dormant but still updating and saving randomly in the background?"

"… Right."

Lance rolled his eyes lightheartedly, "Basically, she auto-saves these moments of time, so if something breaks in her coding, she can default back to the last version. So when that ion cannon hit, she used up all of her energy reserves to send us to a previous version. She saved us."

Keith nodded, "Okay. So how do we get back?"

"Well, since our Blue sent us here, this Blue has information on our Blue. So we essentially just need to restore her power supply, hope and pray that Pidge has done the same to our Blue, and she can send us to our Blue when her power supply is restored."

"How long will that take?"

He tilted his head a bit, "Well, Pidge will have it figured out pretty easily. They also have a more direct form of power she can use. The problem is me figuring it out. But I've spent a good bit of time messing around with her wires with Pidge, so I should know enough to find it. Problem is we're going to need something with enough energy to give her a boost. Like jumping a car."

He nodded, putting a hand on his chin as he thought to himself. He turned, looking up at his dad.

"Do you still have an old camping generator?"

His dad looked confused for a moment, staring at him oddly. A moment later, he nodded slowly.

"Yeah. I'll go grab it."

He turned, making the trek out of the cave. Keith turned back to where Lance currently had his head inside Blue's maintenance panel, fiddling around with the wires.

Keith was thankful for the amount of times he'd read through the maintenance manual, because as Lance fiddled with her systems, he asked Keith for various different tools from the kit to hand to him.

It went on like that for a good twenty minutes before Lance came out from Blue, holding two thin wires in his hand and taping them to the side of Blue.

"Now we just need to supplement her power supply," Lance smiled, leaning back against Blue.

"You think this will work?" Keith asked nervously.

Lance nodded, "The hardest part will be her converting the energy from the generator into energy she can use. It'll probably take a bit of time, but it shouldn't be too tough. It'll probably give us time to change your bandages."

Keith nodded softly, bringing his knees to his chest from where he sat next to Lance.

"I can't save him."

"Hm?" Lance frowned.

"My dad. He… has no clue how little time he has left. And I can't do anything about it."

He wrapped an arm around Keith's shoulders, pulling him in, "I know."

"I want to. But it won't do anything. I can't change the future, even if I tell him the exact time and date. It'll just… happen. I can't bring him with us."

"I know. Trust me, if the roles were reversed, I'd be trying everything in my power to save my family. But you have more self-restraint than me," Lance frowned, "At least you're getting a bit more time with him."

He nodded softly, "I have so much I wish I could say to him. But it's not like I can tell him who I am."

"Maybe it doesn't have to change anything. He wouldn't understand, but you could still try to tell him."

"Yeah," he nodded, leaning his face against Lance more, "I'll think about it."

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith, kissing his head softly.

"I don't mean to make everything about me with this situation. I'm just… overwhelmed."

"You have no reason to feel bad," Lance chuckled, "I mean, you're seeing your dad for the first time in literal years. It's a lot to handle. That's what I'm here for, you handle what you can, and I'll pick up the pieces of what you can't."

Keith looked up at him, smiling softly, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Lance hummed softly, leaning down and kissing him gently.

Keith smiled, kissing him back softly.

When they pulled away, he smirked up at him, "You know, you really have done a good job at handling this. I love when you go all smart Lance on me."

Lance flushed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, "Nah, I've just been spending too much time around Hunk and Pidge."

"And? Doesn't mean you're not smart," Keith hummed, "Don't play down your strengths."

"You're right, sorry," he kissed the top of Keith's head.

"Damn right I am."

They both dissolved into quiet laughter, the sound echoing around them in the cave.

"None of them are going to believe us when we get back," Lance noted, still chuckling softly.

Keith snorted softly, "They'll probably be pissed once they do."

"Especially Shiro. He deserves a little Earth-side vacation more than any of us."

"Yeah," Keith laughed, "He might make us do extra training out of spite."

Lance groaned, "He so will. He's so petty."

Keith chuckled, nodding.

They continued chatting lightly until Keith's dad returned with the generator after a short while. Lance got straight to work, opening up the generator to connect some of the wires with Blue's.

Nice to finally know why his dad bought a new one.

Once he'd connected the wires, he carefully turned on the generator, and after some brief sparking of the wires, Blue's lights began to gently pulsate.

"Yes! Haha!" Lance cheered.

"Holy shit! Lance, you did it!" Keith cheered with him, wrapping his arms around Lance's waist. Lance hugged him back tightly, grinning down at him.

"I can't believe that worked!" Lance grinned, kissing the top of his head. Keith could feel eyes on his back, but he chose to ignore them.

"I knew you'd figure it out," he hummed softly, pulling back slowly. "How long until she's charged up?"

"Not sure. Few hours at least," he shrugged.

"Let's wait back up at the house," his dad spoke, "Get y'all cleaned up, plus I don't want any passerby's seein' the bikes out here and getting suspicious."

Keith nodded, turning to Lance. Lance wrapped an arm around his shoulders as he began to walk them through the cave, and they rode to the house in comfortable silence.

Once back, Lance made quick work of Keith's bandages. His father brought a fresh round of first aid supplies before leaving them be. Keith didn't know what he was doing exactly, but he could hear him moving around the kitchen occasionally, which helped ease his anxieties slightly.

As Lance carefully cleaned up Keith's wounds, he spoke, both to distract Keith from the slight sting and to check in on him.

"I know I keep asking, but… are you okay?"

"Yeah. They're not too painful, so."

"I'm not talking about your injuries, Keith."

Keith frowned.

"I know," he sighed, "I just… I don't think it's really going to get to me until we're back. Or almost back."

"That makes sense, and I don't doubt you'd need time to process it all." Lance stayed focused on his work as he spoke, and the lack of focus on Keith's actual words helped, a small reminder of how deep Lance understood him.

"Are you going to tell your mom?"

"I… don't know," he looked up at the ceiling, "Do you think I should?"

Lance thought for a moment, "I would. I think she'd like to know. At least to know how much your dad continued loving her."

"Yeah," he nodded softly, trying to fight the tension in his throat.

"I don't know. I think I'm just trying to keep it together right now."

"You don't have to," Lance spoke, "You know that, right? If you need to break down and just… feel. I'm here, is all I'm saying."

"I know. Thank you."

Lance hummed, starting to wrap Keith's wounds back up, "You don't have to thank me for that."

He just took a deep breath, trying to remind himself of that. Learning to rely on people again after all these years still felt so foreign to him, especially with the contrasting mental image of his childhood home, when trusting felt so easy.

As Lance finished up, Keith turned to him, "it's your turn."

"You already patched me up," Lance chuckled lightly.

"I gave you stitches while we were both adrenaline-filled and sweaty. I need to check them."

Lance sighed, "Fine. It's really not necessary."

"Don't care. It's necessary to me."

Lance rolled his eyes fondly and took a seat next to Keith. Keith carefully turned, trying not to mess with any of his recently-fixed bandages.

Lance carefully pulled his shirt off, and Keith forced himself to not be as weak of a man as he wanted to be, turning all his attention to the bandage over Lance's shoulder.

After taking care to unwrap the bandage, he grabbed the first aid kit, pulling out some disinfectant and antiseptic gel. He works delicately to avoid snagging his stitches while he disinfected the wound.

It's as he's applying the antiseptic gel that there's a soft knock on the door.

"Boys?"

"Come in," Keith replied, as if natural.

The door opened slowly, his dad holding two mugs.

"I've got to go pick up the little one, but I brought y'all some hot cocoa. There's food in the fridge, but I shouldn't be out that long."

"Thank you," Lance spoke, taking one of the mugs gratefully.

Keith smiled lightly, "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," He hummed, "Y'all have been away from home a long time. Figured you'd want something familiar while you wait to get back."

"…Yeah. Thanks."

He set Keith's mug down on the nightstand.

"How is he? Your son?" Keith couldn't keep himself from asking.

His dad smiled, a fond and loving look crossing his face, "He's the light of my life. Means the world to me. And he's real clever. Always tells me he's gonna find his momma out there in them stars. I reckon he will one day. If anyone can be that determined, it's definitely him."

Keith couldn't decide if his bubbling, overwhelming emotion was from joy or deep sadness.

"That's really sweet," he smiled weakly, trying to hide the bittersweet and complex wave of emotions coursing through him.

His dad smiled lightly back at him. His dad was always good at reading people, so for an attempt to hold his dignity together, Keith turned his head.

His dad walked out after a moment, and Keith let out a deep, shaky breath.

"Fuck," he sighed.

Lance rubbed his back gently, " I know there's no point in asking if you're okay. Again. But I'm here, If you want to talk about it at all, or maybe just a distraction. I'm here."

Keith nodded softly, leaning into Lance's side gently. He kissed the top of Lance's head, pulling back to finish wrapping up Lance's injuries.

"I know you are."

He doesn't say much else as he finished wrapping Lance's wounds. Lance set his mug down to pull his shirt back on, turning back to face Keith.

"I know it's probably not the best date night, but… I saw two porch chairs out front. We could sit out there, watch the sunset."

Keith smiled. He took Lance's hand gently, kissing it, "that'd be really nice… Thank you."

"No te preocupes, amor. No thank you's needed."

Keith had no clue how much time passed while they sat on the porch chairs. It was odd to sit in this chair and actually fit, but all the details matched his memory perfectly, The cracks in the off-white paint, the creak that only happened if he leaned a bit too far on the right side, the rusted nail right below the arm rest.

His dad came back after about an hour, but he didn't join them. He just smiled, mentioned that he dropped his son off with a friend — his work buddy, if Keith remembered correctly — and went back inside the house.

After some time, he brought out two plates. A simple meal, just some cheap steak seared up with some mixed greens, he explained before heading back inside. It took Keith a while before he could stomach taking a bite. Aside from how long it had been since he'd had Earth food, the mental idea of eating food his father made, after all these years, left a pit of grief in his stomach that he couldn't shake.

When the sun did finally set, harsh pinks cascading across a lilac and cerulean sky, stuttering in staccato as they were broken up by the rich orange and deep reds of the mountains and mesas across the desert horizon, the darkness brought the chill of night with it. Keith and Lance found themselves abandoning the porch chairs to sit on the stairs instead, if only so Lance had an excuse to wrap an arm around Keith while pretending to yawn.

Keith didn't mind the cheesiness of the action. He was too focused on the stars above them.

"We're out there. Right now," he spoke softly.

"Not yet," Lance hummed, "right now, we're both probably safely asleep with the people caring for us."

"Space distorts time. If an alien species across the galaxy looked at Earth right now, they probably wouldn't see us. They'd see… the Romans or the Greeks, creating rules and ideas that would define how we eventually did live."

"Like gayness. Famously a Greek invention," Lance noted, a mischievous grin on his face.

Keith snorted, lightly smacking Lance's side. "You really know how to lighten a mood. I'm serious, though. Time is weird when space and distance and stuff get involved."

"I know," Lance hummed, "honestly, given all the theories on how time travel could theoretically work, that's probably the only reason we're even here."

"Yeah," Keith sighed.

"Do you think if, when we get back, we might be able to see ourselves sitting out here? If we used one of Pidge's fancy telescope things."

"Maybe," he smiled, "it's kind of a nice thought. That there would be some evidence of us out there, visible from years away."

"Yeah. I mean, the way I see it, that's just how love and loss work. The person might die, but there's always pieces of them scattered through time. and since that remains, the love they had, and the love we have for them, always remains too. Like… the conversion of energy law, about how energy can't be created or destroyed. The energy we put into love is never destroyed when we lose someone. It's just converted into grief, because that love is all scattered."

Keith looked at Lance, watching the way the stars reflect in his eyes.

"That's a good way to look at it. Logical."

"Yeah. Sometimes, when logic doesn't have the answer, it can still decode the emotions we-" Lance gasped, and the stars in his eyes were overtaken by a soft blue glow.

"Lance?" Keith placed a hand on Lance's arm gently.

But the apparent possession only lasted a short moment before Lance came back to himself, posture relaxing as he came back to himself.

"Lance?" He asked again softly.

"It's Blue. She's ready for us."

Keith nodded, and they went inside, moving quickly. Keith's dad looked up at their swift movements, and Lance spoke first.

"She's ready. We can leave. We just need to grab our things and change."

His dad nodded, standing, "I'll get everything set up to take us there."

Everything seemed to move in a blur for Keith. He mainly focused on changing, the small act of putting his flight suit and boots on, one movement at a time. He could hardly tell if he was moving like a snail or if the room just managed to spin around him.

Lance prepared a bag for them in the meantime, after putting his own armor and flight suit on. Keith didn't pay much attention to it, once his own armor was on, he instead found solace in the grain of wood marking the floors.

"Keith? You ready?"

Keith looked up at him. And for a moment, he was struck with a strange urge, An urge usually only Lance had given him to feel.

The urge to stay.

"I don't… I know I can't. But…"

"You don't want to leave."

Keith shook his head, tears welling at the corner of his eyes, "… No. I don't. This is my first opportunity to have gotten more time with him. There's a million things I want to ask him, questions I want him to answer, stories I want to hear again, but… I can't. I can't save him," he sobbed softly.

"Oh, baby," Lance came to him, wrapping his arms gently around Keith, "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how it feels, but… I'm not going to tell you things you already know. I know you know you can't stay. So tell me what you do need."

Keith just buried his face against him, "I don't know that anything can… make this any easier," his voice was weak as he continued, "I can't change the past. I don't know what to say or do. Even if I did, it couldn't change anything."

Lance rubbed his back, "I know it's hard. But… just try to hold onto the good."

"I know you're right. I should… I should focus on the fact that I got another chance to see him, but I… I don't know how I can leave knowing he doesn't know what will happen. Knowing that it will always turn out the way it does. That I'll always have to live with… this."

"I know," Lance whispered, "I'm sorry."

For a while, Lance just held him. He kept him close while Keith tried to hold himself together. He could do this. It hurt like hell, but he had to do this. He can't change anything. He could only hold onto what he had left of his dad. And that would have to be okay.

Even if it didn't feel okay right now, even if it felt like every scar grief had ever given him had been ripped open anew, filling his body with ice cold blood until he was choking on it. It would have to be okay at some point.

He finally pulled away from Lance, wiped his eyes, and took a deep breath. He nodded.

"Okay. Let's go."

The ride through the desert was short and silent. Keith tried to drink it all in, tried to memorize every tiny detail, every grain of sand, every singular hair on his dad's head. He felt broke open all over again, like he was nothing more than a ten year old, searching for any scrap of a receipt his dad signed that may have survived the rubble.

But the closer they got to Blue, the more the grief eased. Whether it was because of nerves in trying to get back, or just Blue trying to calm his pain, he wasn't sure, but he was thankful for it nonetheless.

Lance started checking in with Blue, entering her cockpit and checking on her engine systems, and preparing for their temporal journey back. Keith didn't really know how to help, so he just stood outside Blue, waiting for any instructions Lance might have for him.

Which also meant, he stood right next to his father.

The silence wasn't awkward, but Keith felt tense regardless.

"So, uh, if you don't mind sharin', what's space like out there?"

Keith's head whipped over at the question, trying to not let the shock and hesitancy show on his face. But at least it was a question he knew how to answer.

"It's… amazing. Everything I wished it would be when I was a kid. It's been… a lot, given all the fighting and stuff, but the small moments make it worth it. The planets and people are really cool to witness, even if there is a learning curve to it all."

"I'm sure. I had to teach Krol's a lot about human etiquette for a while there."

"Yeah?" He chuckled, "Makes sense. Galra are really different to get used to. I would know."

"Do you work with 'em?"

"Sometimes we do. Me more so, but… yeah," Keith didn't elaborate. He'd already said what felt like dangerously too much.

"I see. What about him?" He gestured in the general direction of where Lance was, "Did he follow you into space?"

"Sort of. I didn't really know him much back then, but. Yeah."

"Really? The way he looks at you, I figured y'all had been together for years."

"We have now. But it took us a few years to get there. Being one of like… four other people you know out in space helped for sure, but… it wouldn't have worked as well if he wasn't as amazing as he is."

His dad nodded, and the conversation went quiet. Lance walked out of Blue, jogging over.

"Alright. We're set. She's, uh, she's ready to send us back."

Keith nodded, straightening up, "Okay. Let's do it then."

Keith turned back to his dad, "Thank you, again, for letting us stay with you and stuff."

"Yeah, thank you," Lance smiled, "You've been a fantastic host."

"No thank yous needed, it was the least I could do. Y'all stay safe up there in them stars, alright?"

"Yes, sir," Lance grinned, saluting to him.

They go to turn, to leave, but his dad speaks up again before they can.

"Actually, Keith… can I have a word with you, before y'all leave?"

Keith looked at Lance. Lance looked back at him, gently encouraging him to agree.

"I'll go make sure we have everything," and with that, Lance walked away, leaving them alone again.

It took a while before Tex said anything. But he didn't hold back in the slightest when he did.

"You know… if you were my son. I'd tell you… he's a fine man. And he's a man I'd willingly give my blessin' to. I can only hope your parents say the same."

Keith couldn't breathe. "What?"

"I'd also say, y'know, if I were your dad, that I'm mighty proud of the man you've become. And it's been an honor to get a glimpse of the man he gets to be. You're doin' great out there, protectin' the universe and stuff. It's a dad's biggest honor to see his son grow up to be such a good man," he placed his hands on his hips, sighing lightly, "basically… you've grown into a great man, Keith. I'm proud of you."

Keith gulped around the lump in his throat, and he found that not a single sound could escape his lips. He could feel that ball in his chest crashing down in him, overriding all his systems and sense of thought or reason. So he did the only thing each firing neuron in his body told him to do.

He hugged his dad.

And his dad hugged back.

"I - how —"

"I'd know my son anywhere," his dad spoke, arms tight around Keith's back. Keith couldn't hold back the slight sob in his chest from bubbling up, and through it all, his dad gently rubbed his back, a familiar comfort.

Keith closed his eyes, and for a moment, allowed himself to feel that comfort he hadn't felt in over half his life.

Eventually, when words came back to him, he let out a soft, "thank you."

"Of course, kiddo. You be safe out there, alright?" He pulled away slowly, smiling with just the hint of tears in his eyes, "And if you see your mom, you tell her I love her, and that I'm waitin' for her, whenever she's done bein' a hero."

He could never tell her the second part. He knew how much it hurt her when she found out. But he will tell her of his love. That much he can promise.

Keith nodded, wiping at his eyes, "I will. I promise."

His dad ruffled his hair lightly, "Now get goin'. Lots of universe needs savin' out there."

Keith nodded again, smiling softly, "Thanks, dad. I… I love you. I'll be safe."

"I love you too, kiddo."

Keith gave a wave and turned before another onslaught of tears could escape him. He made his way into Blue quickly, and Lance placed a supportive hand on his back.

"You ready?"

Keith nodded, allowing his tension to release with a deep exhale. "Ready."

At first, it seemed like nothing happened. A weird shimmering sensation passed through Keith, and he felt a little off balance, but, aside from that. They were in Blue still. If anything, the only change was her seemingly losing power again.

“Did it… work?” He asked.

Lance went to respond, but before he could, Blue shook with the sound of her roar. Her systems slowly started to kick back on, and right as her monitor kicked in, showing the sterile grays of the castleship, the door to her cockpit launched open, the rest of the team barging in.

“Oh, thank God,” Shiro gasped, immediately pulling Keith in for a tight hug. Keith hugged him back a bit tighter than usual, and he was vaguely aware of questions and the sounds of Hunk and Lance chatting.

He let Lance take the lead on answering what the hell happened, and thankfully he had enough indiscretion to not mention them seeing his father. From the look Shiro gave him, Keith could tell he knew they were excluding information, but whether it was because of how exhausted Keith looked, or just out of a lack of reasoning, he didn’t push further.

Now that they were back, Keith felt the weight of the whole thing start to press against his shoulders. His ears were filled with a muted ringing, cutting out the sound of Lance’s talking and the team’s questions. He could feel his wounds aching, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the wounds or his temporal displacement that he began to feel so weak in his knees.

The weight wrapped around him further. He wasn’t even sure if any of that was real or just some. Weird pod dream. Or maybe the afterlife.

The weight crushed his chest slowly. He couldn’t breathe. Images of his dad, more clear than ever before, flashed across his mind, contrasting with images of fire and cracking woods and ash.

The weight gave one final push.

For the second time in the past two days, he felt the ground kiss his knees, and arms wrap around his chest, before the sky went black.

The first sensation Keith recognized was the muted humming of florescent lights. He had enough brain power to be briefly annoyed at Alteans for being so technologically advanced, yet not having found a way to make lights silent.

The thought didn’t last long. But neither did any of his thoughts in the moment.

The next sensation he recognized was the taste of his mouth. Stale and unpleasant.

The smell of sterile air, disinfectant lingering in his nostrils.

Then, the sensation of cold, seeping into his bones.

Next, a twitch of his fingers brushed against fabric on his leg, a tight knit compression fabric spanning his whole body.

Finally, his senses gave way to sight.

The lights were too bright, even with the dim of the cryopod, but when that shimmering blue dissipated, even more so. He couldn’t gauge his surroundings as the lights blinded him, so he was thankful for the arms that wrapped around him as he fell forward.

"Hey, kiddo. Deep breaths, I got you," Shiro spoke, holding him up safely.

Keith allowed himself to be weak, to lay the weight of his bones, his exhaustion, and his sorrow, into his brother's arms.

And he cried.

Shiro had the grace to wait until Keith had calmed down and had some food in his stomach before he asked him the most dreaded, expected question.

"Are you okay?"

Keith just frowned, using his spoon to push around the residual food goo.

"Okay. Stupid of me to ask, you're obviously not. But, do you want to talk about it at all?"

Keith sighed, letting his spoon rest in the bowl and pressing his eyelids in with the palms of his callused hands.

"No."

Shiro wasn't stupid. And if there was anything Keith knew about his brother after all these years was that nobody else knew how to reach the hidden core of problem quite like Shiro did.

"You must've been pretty close to your house if you guys saw Blue on Earth."

"Stop," he spoke meekly. Shiro did, to his credit. Eventually, Keith spoke again.

"How do you survive the guilt of… not being able to save everyone? Like Ulaz."

Shiro frowned softly.

"You don't… but it gets easier to live with. Because you will never be able to save everyone. But you remember those you couldn't. You don't forget them just because it hurts. You just have to be willing to find a reason not to let that guilt crush you."

When Keith finally was allowed to collapse onto his own bed, he found the silence overwhelming.

Thankfully, silence never lasted long in his room.

"Do you also feel like every one of your atoms is getting manually rearranged?" Lance asked as he walked in, rubbing at a raised bump on his arm, "Coran's convinced we're going to pick up some time flu."

"He may have a point," Keith hummed, sitting up slowly, "I feel like shit."

"Well, you also had a shit ton of internal bleeding. So the rapid fixing of that could be more to blame than some space flu," Lance hummed, sitting next to Keith on their bed, dropping his bag on the ground gently.

Keith just shrugged in response to that.

"So… how do you feel? I know that wasn't easy for you," He looked at Keith with no judgment or sympathy, just genuine concern.

"Aside from feeling like a horrible son? I feel like I just had to lose him all over again." Keith tried to give his words some bite to them, but it was a battle he lost before he could even attempt it.

"You're not a horrible son."

"A better son would've warned him."

"Keith-"

"No. It's true. I can't change the past, but I could have at least fucking tried something!"

"And when it wouldn't work? Do you really think it would help you to give yourself that false hope?"

Keith glared at him. "It'd be better than having to look him in the eye, knowing I could try to stop him, and then-"

"And then what? Huh? You stop him from running in to save you, what happens then, huh? You don't survive this time, and then where does that leave anything?"

"He'd still be around at least!"

"But you wouldn't, Keith!"

The silence felt defeating.

"Keith, you know as well as I do, that as long as your father was the man he was, there would be no stopping him. There isn't a single timeline where your father wouldn't willingly sacrifice himself to save you. You know nothing would change that. So stop calling yourself some horrible son, as if the only reality in which your father wouldn't save you is one where he simply isn't the man he is."

Keith couldn't hold back the sob. He felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of tears he'd cried in the past few days, but nevertheless, he couldn't stop the flood.

The worst part is he knew Lance was right. If he didn't, his dad wouldn't have died in the first place. Saying anything wouldn't change that.

"I'm sorry," Lance spoke, arms gently and tentatively wrapping around Keith, "that was harsh of me. I'm sorry."

"No. I-" He hiccuped in a breath, "I needed to hear that. I know you're right."

Lance didn't focus on that. Instead, he focused on calming Keith down, slowly breathing until Keith could match his pace.

"I'm still sorry. Even if you needed to hear it, I shouldn't have snapped like that."

"It's okay, I- I know you meant well by it." Keith rubbed his eyes, leaning his head against Lance's shoulder, "I'm sorry I'm such a fucking wreck right now."

Lance chuckled, "You are doing three times better than I would be if I was in your shoes, trust me. If I were in your shoes, I think I would have been crying from the second I saw his face until now."

Keith allowed himself to laugh, and this time, the silence that fell over them didn't feel so suffocating.

Eventually, though, Lance did speak up again.

"Actually. Uh. Speaking of things I would have done if I were in your shoes… I did something you're either really going to like, or you mmmmight be pissed about."

Keith pulled back slowly, eyebrow raised. "What are you talking about?"

Lance went to speak again, but instead, picked up his bag.

"If it were me. And I had no real physical memories of my family. And I was presented the opportunity…" He pulled a framed photo out of his bag, "I'd probably engage in some low-grade kleptomania."

He handed the photo to Keith, and Keith felt that lump in his throat reforming all over again.

Because it was the photo in the hall. Him and his dad. Camping on his fifth birthday.

An actual, real photo of them. A memory no longer confined to the gallery halls of his own mind, but here, in his hands, and able to forever be kept as a true artifact of his life, proof that he existed, proof that his dad existed, proof of some semblance of a childhood that, for years, he tried his hardest to forget because it felt easier than acknowledging how different the contrasting tones of his life had been.

Keith saw his hands shaking more than he felt them, his entire body alight.

"Oh, uh. And this," he pulled out the shirt his dad had lent to Keith, an old shirt from the firefighter's union with his dad's name and badge number.

Keith stared in awe. Like seeing an object from his dreams just suddenly manifested in front of him.

"Lance. I. I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything. I just… when you talked about the photo going missing and everything, I figured it would be fine to… bring it back with us, if it was just going to disappear anyway."

Keith set the photo down, wrapping his arms so, so tightly around Lance.

"I- thank you," he sobbed out softly, and for the first time in a few days, his tears were from something positive instead of crushing guilt.

"Of course," Lance whispered, hugging him back tightly, "I love you. So much."

"I love you too, thank you."

Keith sobbed again, clinging to Lance with all his might. And if he tried hard enough, in his mind's eye, he could see a home in the future. With photos covering the walls, of a happy family, of him and Lance, the whole team. And right there, in the midst of it all, the photo of him and his dad, smiling without any awareness of what their future would hold.

And for the first time in years, Keith felt like he might be able to live with the grief.