Lance hadn't let go of Keith's hand and Keith fell asleep.
Every few seconds, the monitor at Keith's side beeped softly, steady but faint. It was the only thing convincing Lance that Keith was still here.
His grip tightened unconsciously, thumb brushing against Keith's knuckles. "You don't even realize, do you?" Lance muttered, his voice low, hoarse. "You don't realize how much you… how much I…" He trailed off, biting down hard on the words, because saying them out loud felt like stepping off a cliff.
He leaned back in the chair, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes until stars burst in the darkness. His chest hurt, like there wasn't enough air in the whole ship to fill his lungs.
"You always charge in, always act like you've got something to prove," he whispered. "And yeah, I tease you for it, because that's what I do. But the truth is…" His throat tightened. "…the truth is, I don't know how to do this without you."
The words spilled out faster, sharper now, as if the dam had broken.
"You don't get to scare me like this, Keith. You don't get to just...almost die, and leave me sitting here trying to figure out how I'd pick up the pieces if you were gone. Because I wouldn't. I can't. I..." His voice broke, and he pressed his forehead to the edge of the bed, his hands curling into tight fists. "I need you. More than I've ever needed anyone."
The door hissed open.
Lance jerked upright, heart leaping into his throat.
Shiro, Hunk, Pidge, and Coran filed in, their faces etched with worry, but when their eyes landed on Keith, their shoulders sagged in relief.
Coran was the first to speak, adjusting his lenses as he scanned the readouts. "He's stable. our Keith is tougher than he looks."
Shiro's gaze softened as he stepped closer. "The damaged conduit's been repaired. No more sparks. You're both safe now."
Lance swallowed hard. His grip tightened on Keith's hand again, almost defensively, like if he let go even for a second Keith might slip away. "Safe," he repeated, his voice rough. "Right. Sure."
Pidge exhaled, crossing her arms. "Don't know if I'd call it safe when you two scared the life out of us." Her tone was light, but her eyes flicked to Keith with quiet relief.
Lance thought of what Pidge just said. 'scared the life out of us'. "Really? Talking about scaring the life out of you?! Keith almost died!"
Hunk moved closer, resting a hand briefly on Lance's shoulder. "You did what you could, man. You got Shiro. You kept him alive long enough to get help. That counts."
Lance wanted to believe that. He really did. But the guilt still twisted in his chest, heavy and relentless.
Coran fussed with the equipment a little longer, then nodded to Shiro. "He'll recover with rest. Nothing a few days won't mend."
The others shared a look, tired. And slowly began to drift back out, murmuring reassurances to each other as they went. Shiro lingered a moment longer, his hand brushing Lance's shoulder in quiet support before he followed them.
And then it was just Lance again.
The silence returned, pressing in heavy. He looked back at Keith, so still against the stark white sheets, his face pale and drawn but alive.
Lance exhaled shakily and slumped forward, resting his head on the bed near Keith's arm. His thumb brushed idly across Keith's knuckles, grounding himself in that faint warmth.
"The power cord's fixed," he whispered, a bitter laugh catching in his throat. "But I'm not. Not even close."
The steady beeping filled the room again, each sound anchoring him to the fact that Keith was still here, still breathing.
And Lance stayed like that, hunched over, fingers curled around Keith's, waiting for the boy who drove him mad, and who he couldn't live without, to get better. Lance soon fell asleep, his hand clutching Keith's like it was his only means to live.