The Color of Death is Blue

The Lovely Memories

Lance pulled the blankets tighter around his body. The moonlight shone through the large window in front of the couch, casting a dim blue onto Keith's skin. With his back leaning against the armrest and his cheek on the back cushion, Lance watched Keith's chest rise, bringing his crossed arms with it. His head rested back as he sat in sleep.

It was rare for Lance to see Keith that vulnerable. He always waited for him to sleep first. It brought a light smile to his face, because that meant he trusted him. The apartment felt calm and still with the night sky. Lance took a deep breath to stretch his lungs, then closed his eyes softly and started to sing.

Step one: wake up
Now open your eyes
Now float to the window
Open the blinds
Now never mind

The cold shiver on your overexposed spine
Still lying on the bed where you left it,
Soaking up the sleep from the mattress.

Keith's chest resonated with a gentle chuckle. Lance opened his eyes to look at him, raising his head off the cushion. He was staring at the ceiling, a curious smile on his face.

"What," Lance whispered, hand fiddling with the bird-freckled blanket.

He tilted his head to look at him, his grey-purple eyes glowing in the light. His hand gently stroked Lance's calf, "That song makes no sense."

The corners of Lance's mouth curved upward and he returned his head to the couch, closing his eyes. "That's what makes it pretty."

"We're here." Shiro clicked the car into park and removed the keys.

Lance opened his door and stepped into the sunset air. Tightening his grip on the gun, he slammed the car door and joined the group as they headed up the road to the Galra hideout. Gravel crunched beneath their boots and Lance adjusted his mask to allow for easier breathing.

When they reached the back entrance, they crouched against the rusted, wavy metal wall. They only had a small window of time to enter before the guards found them. Coran scooted around to pick the lock. Lance kept looking from side to side, his heart pounding on his ribcage and climbing up his throat.

"Are you trying to make me stare at your ass?" The coffee mug knocked the table as Keith set it down.

Lance turned away from the pancakes on the stove, swinging his hips. His pink shorts barely reached his thighs and his grey sweater hung off his wrists. He smirked, tilting the spatula in his hand, "What if I said yes?"

"You cheeky bastard," Keith said, shaking his head. He stood up and leaned his head toward Lance's ear, "If you continue your attempts at seducing me, I'm gonna do this."

Lance yelped as Keith pinched his ass. He turned and smacked his shoulder with the buttery spatula as he retreated with a laugh. "You little perv!" He tried to sound angry, but his mouth smiled wide, showing his teeth as he giggled.

The lock clicked and Coran opened the door. He motioned for them to enter as he kept lookout. Lance quickly found cover behind a large silver case when he stepped inside. Shiro kept him close, scanning the hallway. Lance tried to control his breathing and calm his sweaty gloved hands, waiting for Shiro's silent orders. Lance's jumpy eyes watched Coran retreat to the woods as the door shut behind them.

Shiro tapped his shoulder and motioned to follow. Lance complied and stayed on his back, hands clasped on his gun and eyes scanning every inch of the area. The light was dim and greenish, giving off a dark aura. The yellow hues in it made Shiro's vest and hair give off a faint glow. Everything in the building had a deep shadow.

Shiro swiftly pointed his barrel down each side of the crossroad, then turned right. They continued down the damp halls, passing multiple doors. A few casted a line of yellow across the soles of their shoes, but most of them were dark. Shiro suddenly stopped with a hand up ordering Lance. His eyes darted around as he listened. Then, after a moment, they jumped left, hastily finding shelter behind a pile of bags and coats. Lance's cheeks were damp with sweat from the mask, making it harder to keep his breaths quiet. Lance's stomach churned as he heard footsteps tap the concrete floor.

Lance rubbed his tired eyes as he sat up on the couch. A faint whine sounded from the wall- the culprit of the sudden wake-up. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his eyes adjusted to the dark. After a moment of silence he almost lied back down, but the noise triggered again. Lance stood with a sigh and looked around the apartment to find the source. Across from Keith's room was a bathroom, and a small ray of light spilled into the tiny hallway. Lance hesitated, but gave in to his curiosity. His bare feet pattered on the cold hardwood as he approached the sound. He pushed on the cracked door with his fingertips, opening it slowly.

Keith's back was leaned against the tub. He wore his black sweatpants and his white shirt was piled on the floor next to him. A hand clutched his bare, convulsing chest and his wobbly legs were bent, heels digging into the tile. He looked up at Lance with wide eyes and an open mouth as he gasped for breaths.

Lance sighed and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. After watching the scared boy, he knelt down to sit cross legged on the bathroom floor. Leaning forward, he stared into Keith's sweaty face, "You're broken too."

It took a few tries for Keith to find his shaky voice, "I'll be fine, please leave."

Lance lowered his eyes to Keith's chest and reached for his clenched hand. Locking their fingers together, he pulled it to him. With his other arm, he slid himself between Keith's legs, letting them relax on his knees. The back of his fingers stroked Keith's hand in a calming motion, "I'm not gonna leave you like this."

After the heavy footsteps passed them, Shiro leaned over to Lance. Pointing to a metal door with a square window, he whispered, "That's where they're holding him."

Lance tried to jump up, but Shiro's hand shoved him down. He motioned for Lance to follow as he inched forward. Before he could cross the hallway, a man's scream made them stop in their tracks. Shiro quickly turned back to Lance and squeezed his shoulder, digging his fingers into his collarbone, "Do what I say."

Lance's chest ached with dread, but he gave him a nod. Shiro returned one, then turned back to scan the hallways. As they crossed over, the sound of grinding metal and screaming could be heard through the walls. Shiro grasped the door handle and silently opened it. The sounds amplified without the barrier, bringing tears to Lance's eyes. They entered the room and found shelter behind a few boxes. The space was set up like a makeshift theatre. Shiro and Lance were hidden on the metal catwalk that wrapped around the walls. Dirty railing boxed them in, displaying a gruesome scene below.

Lance had to mentally prepare for the sight. The foul smell of iron and rotten metal permeated the humid air. Another heart wrenching shriek pierced his ears, causing him to flinch. Antagonizing voices yelled over him, toying with his mind.

Shiro nudged Lance's shoulder. His frightening eyes were full of annoyance and anger, "Pull yourself together!"

Lance's face scrunched up in agony as he shook his head. Tears wormed their way into the leather of his mask. I can't do it! I can't look!

He leaned his face close to Lance's ear. "You chose to come, you little fucker. Deal with it. Let's go."

Lance took in a sharp breath and blinked away the tears. Shiro was right. The two shared a mutual nod, then army crawled to the edge of the platform. Lance thought he was ready, but nothing could have prepared him for the agonizing scene below.