Goodbye

The snow fell slowly outside the window. Tiny, white, perfect flakes, dancing in the wind like a million teardrops. The sky was gray and the land was still. No human dared to brave the cold nor did any animal, so no movement could be seen. To the observer in the other side of the window, the otherwise picturesque scene in front of him was dead.

As dead as his friend.

Admiral Keith Rossdale steepled his fingers, his dark eyes squinting as he stared at nothing. He was still dressed in full admiral regalia with the additional pinnings of a monarch. He sat tall in his seat, his military bearing unmistakeable, but the expression on his face was far from the usually calm facade he wore. Lined and worn, his handsome face was finally showing signs of his age. And he felt it too.

What were the final moments like, Lance? Were they like you thought? An incredible rush? Were you afraid....did you scream for help....?

He leaned over and covered his face with his hands.

Quietly, the doors to his study opened and moments later, he heard the soft russle of a woman's skirt. He lifted his head as Allura neared. Her blonde hair had streaks of gray now, but she was still as beautiful as when he'd first seen her. She gazed at him with worried eyes. It had been four hours since Lance's funeral and she had been playing hostess with those who had attended while Keith had disappeared. She had wanted to seek him out, but something told her that he needed to be alone for a little while.

"They've left," she told him, reaching out to touch his cheek. "Pidge and Myra, and Hunk and Leslie are staying in the guest suites. They'll be here for the week."

Keith nodded. Allura knelt down next to him, her hands clutching his. Her blue eyes were shiny, they had been since the news of Lance's accident reached Arus, but she kept her tears at bay.

"Come to bed, Keith. Staying up all night won't help."

He looked at her with dull eyes. Allura sighed and took him in her arms.

"It wasn't your fault, Sweetheart," she murmured in his ear. "It wasn't anybody's fault. It was an accident."

She felt him let out a deep shuddering breath. He pulled her onto his lap and buried his face in her shoulder.

"I know it wasn't," he said hoarsely. "But I lost my best friend, Allura. He's been my best friend for more than half my life. I---I...."

"Shhh..." she soothed, putting a finger to his lips. "I know...I know..."

The doors slid open again. A young man loped in the room. A hunk of dark blond hair fell into his eyes and he looked at them from sad sky blue eyes.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing, Dad," he said.

Allura stood from her husband's lap and smiled at their son. He had her coloring but Keith's features. He was already causing a fuss among the single ladies in the universe.

"I'll be alright, Matt," Keith assured him. "Go on to bed."

Matt kissed his father's forehead and his mother's cheek. "Goodnight. And Dad...I'm so sorry."

Keith nodded, unable to speak. Matt left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Allura stood and pulled Keith to his feet.

"Let's go to bed, my Love," she said.

"I'll be there. You go on ahead." He kissed her. "I'll be up in a few minutes."

She took a long look at him and then nodded. Keith turned back to the window as she left. Lance had been there through thick and thin and it was only after his marriage to Allura did they grew apart. Keith stayed on Arus while Lance headed out to the far corners of the galaxy to get his thrills. Always the daredevil, Lance would not even think twice about risking his life over breaking some record. Keith always had his heart in his throat when he checked his messages, expecting to see some notice of his friend's death. Lance lived longer than he expected him to--but that didn't lessen the hurt. Keith sighed deeply and opened a desk drawer, pulling something out.

He held the small photograph gently as if he was afraid it would break. It was a picture of two young boys, their arms around each other as they mock wrestled for the camera. He smiled and a tear dropped down onto the photo, onto the young face of a friend that he would never see again.

"Goodbye, old friend."

THE END