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Keith wasn’t a heavy sleeper. Not like Lance.
It was the shaking that really woke him— a shudder at his left side accompanied by soft whimpers. Keith sat up, glancing over at Lance, who was facing the window. “Lance?” he asked gently, and then, when one of the whimpers turned into a choking sob, “Lance!”
Keith put his hand on Lance’s shoulder and rolled him over onto his back. His eyes were still closed, and he whispered between sobs, “Keith, please, don’t…”
“Lance,” Keith tried again, his heart skipping. “I’m right here, wake up.”
Lance’s eyes opened slowly, coming to rest on Keith right as a sob tore through his chest. He looked pained— physically pained— and it made Keith irrationally upset. There was nothing to fight, nothing he could do. It was only a dream, after all, but seeing Lance so shaken was not something he was great at dealing with.
“It was a dream,” Lance said through tears, as if he were convincing himself. He glanced around at their room in the Garrison, but the familiarity of it hardly did anything to lessen the terrified look on his face.
“Yeah, just a dream,” Keith said, rubbing his hand up and down Lance’s arm— it felt natural in the moment, like he had to keep Lance warm. “You’re alright. Everything’s fine.”
Lance was still crying, and he wiped brusquely at the tears on his cheeks. “Alright,” he said, a sob-induced gasp jolting his shoulders. “I’m… I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“Lance…” Keith shook his head. “You scared me.”
Their eyes met and Lance swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t… don’t apologize,” Keith said, moving a little closer to brush some hair off his forehead. Lance leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. “What were you dreaming about?” Keith asked.
Lance’s eyes snapped open and then immediately shot away from Keith. “It was just a nightmare,” he muttered. “Nothing to worry about.” He started to roll over again, but Keith stopped him, pulling his shoulder back.
“Lance, come on. Don’t give me that. You… you said my name.”
Lance stiffened under Keith’s touch, but reluctantly, he made eye contact again. His face was still red from crying, and his eyes held a deep-rooted sadness that panicked Keith a little— as much as he tried to suppress it. “I don’t want you to be upset,” Lance said. “You can’t take it as a… sign, or anything. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Now Keith really was panicking. “What do you mean? Lance, you’re worrying me.”
“No, no,” Lance said quickly, grabbing Keith’s hand and squeezing. He took a large breath, and then explained, “I was dreaming about the time that… we fought in the astral plane.”
Keith’s grip on Lance’s hand tightened, and he bit at the inside of his lip, trying not to get too caught up in the emotions he felt over what had happened only a few months ago. “Oh,” he finally said.
“It was terrible, Keith,” Lance breathed, and Keith could tell he was about to cry again. “I couldn’t save you this time. You were so far gone… I couldn’t do anything to help.”
Keith hesitated, not sure if he wanted to know the answer to the question on his mind. “Did I… did I kill you?”
Lance’s throat worked as Keith waited. “It doesn’t matter.”
But it did. The thought haunted him, the idea that he could have actually… killed Lance. What if he had? He shuddered. It was too terrible. He hated the thought that he was in any way responsible for the pain of someone he loved.
His eyes rested on the scar cutting across Lance’s shoulder. A scar he was responsible for. A scar he barely remembered giving. He touched it softly, his fingertips just brushing Lance’s skin, and Lance gasped a little, meeting Keith’s eyes.
“Keith…”
“I’m so sorry,” Keith burst, his eyes welling up. “I can’t stand the thought that I ever hurt you,” he admitted. “It just tears me apart, whenever I think about it.”
“Keith, it’s okay,” Lance tried.
Keith shook his head, squeezing Lance’s hand in both of his. “No, it’s not okay. It’s not okay, Lance, because you’re having nightmares, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t bear it if you were scared of me.”
Lance reached up to touch Keith’s cheek, where another scar— the one Shiro had given him— stood starkly against his pale skin. “I’m not scared of you,” Lance assured him, “because it wasn’t you I was fighting. Not really. That’s what was so scary about it— the thought that I might not get you back. But I did.”
Keith’s shoulders fell as he sighed, and Lance, with a small smile, pressed a kiss to his lips. Keith still got hung up on the sweet, simple touches Lance liked to give him— the ones that still meant so much to him, and that he had to assume always would. The feeling of the kiss lingered after Lance pulled away, and Keith was overwhelmed with the need to reciprocate.
“I can’t change what happened,” he said slowly, “but I want you to know that without you…” he shook his head, almost not believing how lucky he was to be here, sharing a bed with him. “You saved me, Lance.”
Lance chuckled, moving his thumb across Keith’s cheek. “I was just the only one dumb enough to face you like that.”
“No,” Keith said adamantly, wanting Lance to understand. “I mean from the beginning.”
Lance’s grin dropped slowly, and he cocked his head, waiting for Keith to go on.
“I don’t even want to think about what my life would be like now if you hadn’t insisted on carrying Shiro out of the desert that night.” He allowed himself to chuckle at the memory, and Lance smiled again.
“It’d be a lot less dangerous.”
“A lot less exciting,” Keith corrected playfully.
Lance stared at him for a moment more, and Keith noticed that, at least for the time being, the sadness had mostly left his eyes.
“I love you,” Lance said softly. “You know that, right? That I’m in love with you?”
Keith smiled. “I’d hoped you were. I would’ve hated to be in love all by myself.”
Lance went in for another kiss, pulling Keith down with him on the bed, and, wrapped in each other’s arms, they drifted gently back to sleep.