Fix-It Snippet
The room wasn’t as dark as it should have been, when Keith woke up. He rolled over in his sleeping bag, squinting at the small glow in the corner of the room. It outlined the silhouette of his roommate, hunched over in front of the mirror, desperately rubbing at his face. Keith pushed himself up, just slightly, trying to get a look at what Lance was doing, without alerting the man of his presence. Finding it a fruitless task, he forced himself out of the warmth of his bundle and across the icy floor. Lance still didn’t notice him.
As he got closer, he noticed the anxious shaking of his companion’s shoulders. He had his face pressed close to the mirror, rubbing the marks on his cheekbones raw, clawing at them with rosy, aching fingertips. He sniffed once, pure anguish driving his fingers to scratch more. The Altean marks were dimmer than usual, buried beneath quite a few layers of foundation, but they remained completely visible. Lance dipped his head forward, his hairline meeting the cold of the mirror, and he gave up trying to cover the marks.
Keith approached lightly, kneeling silently next to the man. “Hey, buddy,” he started. The brunet didn’t lift his head or respond. The retired black paladin reached his hands out, cradling Lance’s chin and rubbing the makeup off his cheeks. “What’s the matter?” The other man tore his head away again, dragging his sleeve along his nose.
“Why?” He’d merely breathed the word, but it was agony to hear. “She said she loved me, why won’t she let me move on?” His lips released a strangled noise, and Keith watched as he pushed the heels of his palms against his eyes to stop the tears. “I can’t even-” His voice had fallen into a squeak, killing his sentence. “I can’t even look into the mirror without seeing her! She’s attached herself to everything that was ever me; I can’t even be my own person! Who does that to someone they love?”
The black paladin’s heart broke. Lance was right. It was cruel to place a constant reminder across someone’s face. It was a curse. It was a scar. It was something that would never go away, like a ghost haunting someone who’d done them wrong. Except Lance had done no wrong. He’d loved her with everything he had, to the point of neglecting his own insecurities and even dying for her. And what had she given him in return? Two scars under his eyes and a lifetime of misery.
“I don’t know,” Keith had finally answered. He hated how weak that response was, how little it would help. But it was all he could think to say, because the real answer was “no one”. No one would do that to someone they love. But the utterance of such a fact would reveal something far worse to Lance: that Allura never loved him. She’d taken pity on him, maybe. Or maybe she simply confused a feeling of friendship with love. Maybe she just needed someone, anyone, after Lotor. But love would never be a word that described her feelings for Lance. She’d never felt as strongly for Lance as he had felt for her. She wouldn’t have cursed him if she had.
Keith pulled Lance into a hug. He knew the feeling, he reminded himself. He thought back on all the times he’d watched Lance pine after someone else and he remembered the ache he’d felt. The way it felt like his chest was caving in when he had to listen to Lance say he’d gotten a date with a woman who never cared for him. His heart had stopped for a moment, before thrumming way too fast. He had to watch the man he loved fall for a woman who would never love him back. Who had never felt so much as an ounce of remorse for breaking his heart countless times.
He tried not to, but he bore grudge against Allura. She’d gotten affection she didn’t even want. She’d mocked Lance ceaselessly when he flirted with her; she tossed his love aside like it was nothing. She’d torn Lance’s heart and pride to shreds time and time again, and Keith had watched the man he loved crumble every time. He’d picked up the pieces of Lance’s heart, telling the man he was a valuable team member, telling him he did have something to offer. He’d put the heart back together over and over, all for Allura to ultimately toss it aside, just like before.
He rubbed Lance’s back, letting him sob against his nightshirt. The brunet wrapped his arms around Keith’s torso so quickly and so tightly, the black paladin had the air knocked from his lungs. Lance bunched the shirt in his firsts, ducking his nose further against Keith’s chest.
“I’m sorry,” Lance murmured. Keith bowed his head and pulled the man closer. He shouldn’t be sorry, he’d done nothing he needed to apologize for. “I guess I don’t deserve to be happy.” He was so wrong, so so wrong.
“That’s not true,” was all he could manage as he pulled the brunet closer, resting his forehead along Lance’s scalp. “You deserve to be happy. You deserve so much more than you got.” There was nothing else to say. He let the brunet cry until his tears were gone.
He’d picked Lance’s broken heart up every time she’d carelessly tossed it aside. And here he was, picking up the same shards she’d somehow managed to scatter without even being alive. Even now, even in death, she managed to keep Lance broken and to herself.
Part of the Fix-It fic I’m writing. More will be added to AO3 when it’s ready.
