Interlude: A Word Between Friends

Lance looked at the picture of Sven, himself, and Keith in their dorm room at the Academy that he kept at his bedside. They had been sixteen years old then, only four and a half years ago, but it seemed like an eternity. It had been their last year before being shipped off to separate assignments. They had always managed to meet back at Galaxy Garrison whenever they could to strengthen their already strong friendship, because every soldier at war knows that a friend can come between themselves and death, between sanity and insanity. Be it physical or emotional death, Lance knew that they had kept each other afloat during hard times. But now...one of them was gone and he didn't know what to do. And from the way Keith was walking around these days, or hobbling rather, he didn't either. They hadn't spoken to each other for days.

He knew Keith blamed himself for Sven's death. If he hadn't been captured, if they hadn't decided to save him, Sven would never have stepped on that landmine. So many ifs made Lance feel like he was grasping at straws that were never there to begin with. He grappled with each possibility, his heart growing heavier each time he thought of Sven. He had been so young, as most soldiers were who died in the line of duty. The older ones were heavyweights who usually opted to stay out of the danger of the frontlines.

Lance turned to his side and looked at the half-empty bottle of vodka on his night table. He couldn't even remember drinking it. He glanced at his chronometer and saw that it was fourteen hundred hours. He was supposed to be outside supervising the building of something or other, but he couldn't bring himself to get out of bed. It was conduct unbecoming an officer, but he never cared much for military protocol. Allura would take care of it because even though they had their differences, she understood what he was going through. He touched his face and felt a good two days growth of beard on his cheeks. He didn't care. Sven was on Doom, his bones probably being picked clean by vultures and the last thing on Lance's mind was his appearance.

"We hadda pact, Sven," Lance muttered, his words slurring. "We weren' supposta die 'fore we had at leas' one gray hair. Lass' time I checked, you hadda full heada black hair. You broke the pact."

His door chimed at that moment. He sat up and his head spun. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. The door chimed again.

"Whozit?" he called.

"It's me," Keith's voice replied, sounding flat and emotionless.

Lance pressed a button on his night table and the doors slid open. Keith came in, his arm still in a sling. He walked like a battered man, which he was, but he kept his back straight. He entered the room and immediately wrinkled his nose when the stench of alcohol and other unpleasant things met his senses.

"Jesus, Lance," he said disgustedly. "What the hell have you been doing?"

Lance threw him a droll look. "Whaddya think?"

Keith sighed and picked up the bottle of vodka. He capped it and put it back up on Lance shelves. He picked up the used shot glasses and put them in the dish dispenser. They disappeared as soon as he put them down. Then, with only the one hand that he could use, he cleared an armchair of clothes and junk so he could sit down.

"Make yourself at home," Lance said dryly.

"Already done," Keith said. "Planning to come out anytime soon?"

"Nah."

Keith pinned him with a stern look. "You have to, Lance. The Arusians need you. They don't know what to do out there."

"They'll figure it out. Lemme battle my demons."

"Get drunk you mean."

"Same difference."

Keith took a deep breath. "Sven is gone, Buddy. Sitting around in your room isn't going to bring him back."

"I think imma hava go at it. Just to try somethin' new." Lance eyed him. Even drunk, he could keep his head straight if he wanted to. "I could say the same for you, Friend. What's with the new facial decoration?" he asked, putting a finger on his jaw at the same spot Keith's scar was.

The commander's lips thinned. "I didn't say forget. I said, move on."

"That scar'll make you not forget?"

Keith shrugged. "It's only a piece of the suffering Sven must have gone through during his last moments."

"We all have little problems, don't we, Keith?" Lance sighed, leaning against the headboard. "Me and my drinking, you and your little keepsakes. Do you still have the broken vase your dad threw at you?"

Keith's silence was all the answer Lance needed.

"We all have our baggage," Lance said quietly.

"Poor little rich boy," Keith sneered, his temper snapping.

Lance's normally genial brown eyes chilled and narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've lived a charmed life, Lance. I don't know why you make it seem like you've got nothing going for you. Baggage...the only baggage you have is that you have too much money and you spend it all on liquor."

"Some people have coin collections, I have liquor. So what? Quit the drama, Keith. Sorry I wasn't beat up by my dad but last time I checked, that doesn't mean I can't have problems."

Keith's nostrils flared in anger and Lance glared at him. They stared at each other while Keith debated whether to get up and leave or stay and stick it out. He opted for the latter. He came here for a reason. He took a deep breath and fought back his anger. It was what he was good at.

"I didn't come here for this," Keith said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said, about you being a 'poor little rich boy'".

Lance visibly relaxed, his shoulders sagging. "I know. I'm sorry I got so riled up. I've just been so...so..."

"Tense? Yeah. Death does that to people."

They both fell silent at the first mention of Sven's passing between them. Lance stared at his hands as if his life depended on it and Keith unconsciously lifted his hand to touch the scar on his jaw.

"I wishya hadn't put the vodka up there," Lance said with a sad half-smile.

"You've been drinking too much," Keith said distractedly.

"It's not your fault, you know," Lance said. "If we were to blame anyone, it's whoever put that landmine there."

"Whoever gave the order to put that landmine there."

"Whoever built the landmine."

They looked at each other and chuckled.

"Sven's mother, for having him in the first place," Keith said with a shake of his head.

"And then there were two," Lance exclaimed. "Don't die on me, Keith. I'm not gonna make it by myself."

"You have your family, Lance. If there was someone not going to make it by himself, it's me."

"You have my family, Keith."

Keith covered his eyes with his one free hand and sighed. He had cried at Sven's funeral, but he was done crying. It felt like he didn't have it in him anymore. There was just an emptiness that he didn't know how to fill.

"You guys are my family. I've lost a brother and I didn't realize how much he meant to me until he was gone."

"I didn't either," Lance said. "I feel like I wasted so much time screwing around someplace when I could have been spending time with him and you, doing stuff we used to do. Fishing, football...anything. If I could just have one more minute..." He choked and realized then that he was going to start crying. He quickly fought back his tears. He regarded Keith as a brother, but that was one thing he could not do in front of him and vice versa.

"I wish I could be with Oleg and Jess," Keith said, naming Sven's parents. "After losing Joe and Kat, they can't possibly be taking this well."

Lance shook his head, his tears stopped flowing for a while. "Here I was sulking when two of the nicest people in the world have lost their last son. Whadda hell kinda person am I?"

"I could have prevented it, you know."

"How?"

"Gone back for him."

"What makes you so sure that it woulda worked?"

"Then I would have died instead of him," Keith said.

"I'm gonna bring to your attention the fact that you could barely walk..."

"Doesn't matter. Sven's parents are suffering because he died. If I died, who would suffer?"

"ME! Sven! People do care about you. Allura'd probably go nuts. She was when you were just missing, you know. You're not as alone as you think. If anyone shoulda gone back, it's me. I was walking just fine." Lance watched as his hands began to shake. He hoped it wasn't a permanent ailment, but like Keith's scar, he wasn't adverse to having it around. My buddy's dead. And to show for it, my hands shake. To each their own keepsake.

Keith leaned back in the chair. He winced slightly as a bruise on his back complained at the contact. "So many things that could have been done for him. I can't stand it."

"It's no picnic over here, either." Lance felt his eyes well up again. "I miss him."

"Yeah," Keith said. "Me, too."

Lance looked thoughtful. "But ya know, Keith...I think we haveta let him go."

"I know. I just needed to grieve a little longer."

"Yeah. Me, too. He wouldna liked us grieving for just one day, right?"

Keith smirked. "He probably wouldn't have liked it at all."

They stared at each other for a few moments. Lance could see it written all over his friend's face that he would give anything, do anything to get Sven back. He had the same expression on his face, too. Instead, they were sitting in a room just talking instead of doing. With an enormous strength of will--he wanted nothing more than to be left alone with his vodka--he got up from bed and began picking his clothes up. Keith looked at him questioningly.

"I'm going back to work," he said. "Can't do much good sitting in here. Sven wouldna liked it."

"You should probably sober up then," Keith said. He tossed Lance a bottle of detox pills. "Here. For your permanent stash."

"Thanks."

"I'll get going. I'm sure there are data pads needing my signature."

"What about your injury there?" Lance said, gesturing.

"I'm left-handed," Keith said wryly.

"Right. Sorry."

Keith started for the door. Lance paused at the doorway to his bathroom and turned his head to look at his friend. Keith was standing a little straighter and the air of depression that had been hovering about him was almost gone. He turned his head to look at Lance and smiled. Lance smiled back. Everything seemed to look a little brighter. They would never forget the loss they had suffered, but made a new silent pact. It was time to let go of the pain and start living again.

"See you around," he said.

"See ya," Lance replied.

The End