Note: This is part 2 of “nobody has to know (nobody but me)”
Lance is glad he doesn’t have to hide the fact that he can lift Shiro off the ground without physically touching him, or that he can make snow flurries fly around the room to add some fun to their daily training sessions (and maybe make Keith slide on his ass halfway across the room). He’s glad that he can finally be himself in front of his team, his space family.
That doesn’t mean he wants them to know about the other things. Or why he ran from those things. He’s in space, so far away from home. The team doesn’t need to know about something that’ll never affect them.
Of course, things change when Lance is captured by the Galra. Things change when something from his past, a past he ran away from, shows up out of nowhere on the Castle and helps the team get him back before it’s too late, even though it already is.
Things change when the murderous son-of-a-bitch responsible for the slaughter of his people, of his brother, follows him into space and finally has a lock on Lance – and this time, Lance has nowhere to run.
This time, the Beast has its eyes on Lance, and he has nowhere to hide.
Written 2018, last remembered edit 2019.
Lance is having the absolute worst case of déjà vu on the worst day possible.
He only notices what’s happening when he finds himself staring in confusion at Hunk as the resident cinnamon roll attempts to explain to Coran exactly why his previous efforts to bake cookies have ended in dismal failure and possible erosion of the Paladins’ tongues.
(The burnt grass taste was only the beginning).
Pidge is absently nodding along to whatever Hunk’s saying as she tries to drown herself in the Altean equivalent of three gallons of coffee, because death by caffeine is always infinitely better than rejuvenation by the brewed Altean tea at a dozing Keith’s elbow. Lance prefers coffee himself, but he doesn’t quite understand Pidge’s intense hatred for tea. It’s akin to vampire’s hatred of garlic. It makes no sense.
Shiro’s talking in a quiet voice to Allura, seeming to be mildly concerned about something, and not really paying attention to Hunk and Coran. Allura probably spent the entire night trying to figure out how the Galra are wormholing close enough to the Castle’s various changing locations that it’s become a genuine concern. Shiro probably helped her come up and test out theories whilst simultaneously trying to get her to go to bed, despite also not planning to sleep anytime soon himself.
Keith’s staring blankly at his bowl of food goo, very obviously still asleep yet somehow awake enough to animate his physical body into mimicking conscious movement. It honestly must take an insane amount of skill to train so much, so often, and not actually get that much sleep, yet still maintain such good-looking skin. Your pores are not supposed to be that clear when you commit the great sin of using an all-in-one bar of soap on your skin.