Keith woke slowly, the way you do after days of exhaustion-his body heavy, but the stabbing pain in his ribs dulled now to a deep ache.
For the first time since the sparks had rained down, he didn't feel like he was drowning.
He shifted carefully, testing his strength. His legs felt stiff, but they obeyed when he swung them over the edge of the bed. His bare feet touched the cold metal floor, grounding him.
The med bay was quiet, save for the low hum of monitors. He was alone—no, not alone.
Keith's eyes caught on a figure slumped awkwardly beside him.
Lance.
The chair was tipped slightly back, like he'd been fighting to stay upright and lost. Now he was sprawled half on the chair, half on the floor, one arm crooked under his head, the other stretched toward the bed. His fingertips brushed the edge of Keith's blanket, like even in sleep he refused to let go.
Keith froze, staring. His chest tightened in a way that had nothing to do with the injury.
"Idiot," Keith muttered softly, though his voice came out rougher than intended. "You're gonna wreck your back like that."
He shifted, careful not to groan at the pull in his ribs, and tugged at the blanket around his shoulders. It took some effort—his hands were clumsy, his body still weak—but he managed to drape it over Lance.
Lance stirred, mumbling something incoherent, before turning his face further into his arm. A faint snore escaped him.
Keith let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He sat back against the mattress, eyes lingering on Lance longer than he meant to.
That's how Shiro and the others found them.
The med bay doors slid open with a hiss, voices carrying in before the group fully stepped inside.
"…told you he'd be awake by now," Pidge said, her tone matter-of-fact.
"Yeah, but I didn't expect this," Hunk whispered loudly as they caught sight of the scene.
Keith looked up, startled. Lance was still out cold, blanket draped over him, sprawled ungracefully at Keith's side. Keith, pale but upright, looked caught in the act of something private.
Shiro's mouth curved into the faintest smile, though his eyes softened as he took in Keith's color. "You're up. That's good." He stepped further in, his voice steady but warm. "How do you feel?"
Keith shifted uncomfortably under the attention. "Better," he admitted. His hand drifted unconsciously toward the edge of the bed, close to where Lance's fingers still brushed the blanket.
Pidge raised an eyebrow. "Looks like someone didn't move all night."
"Or even when he hadn't eaten, he told us to get him something. This is the first time he's slept." Hunk added, grinning despite the heaviness that had been hanging over all of them. "He barely left your side, man."
Keith glanced down at Lance, who let out another faint snore at the worst possible moment. Heat prickled at his ears. "He… didn't have to."
"No," Shiro agreed gently, his gaze flicking between the two of them, "but he wanted to."
The words hung there, heavier than the quiet hum of the machines.
Keith didn't answer. He just adjusted the blanket a little higher over Lance's shoulders, careful not to wake him.
And for once, no one commented.