The Best Klance Fanfictions

Why We Stay

find the original story here! - https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916648/chapters/34553226
by elfenphoenix

okay this is going to be sad lolllllllll

(prolouge)

Coran watched with a frown as the paramedics hauled the tarp-covered bodies out of the room, as one officer patted the back of the crying woman who had found the dead, as another explained to the landlord what had most likely occurred.

There were no smiles to be seen anywhere-- though, in Coran’s line of work, there rarely were. You’d think he’d have gotten used to it, after decades of being a reaper, but he hadn’t. Every case was unique, and every case capable of leaving a lasting impression on his memory.

He turned to the boy sitting atop the wardrobe, completely unnoticed by any of those hurrying in and out of the room. He stared blankly down at his feet, as if equally unaware of those around him.

Coran cleared his throat, but still the boy didn’t look up.

“Well, I suppose it’s time for you to go, uhhh…” Coran peeked at his list, “...Lance. Come on, I’ll show you the way. The journey isn't so hard, I promise you that!” He extricated his right hand from the folds of his robe, holding it out to the ghost.

At this, finally, Lance looked up, but his gaze was still blank. He stared emotionlessly at Coran’s hand, then turned away.

“Go away.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’ve been assigned!” Coran explained, doing his best to sound cheery. “See? Here’s the list for Reaper 476-- that’s me-- under entry seven-thousand eighty-four: Lance McClain. That’s you, correct?”

Lance still didn’t look at him. “No.”

“I’m not here to hurt you, my boy.”

“I know,” Lance answered, his voice shaking. “I’m just… not ready to go yet.”

He pushed Coran’s outstretched hand away from him, watching the police officers begin to escort the woman and the landlord out of the building.

Coran closed his eyes, pulling his hand back. There was procedure for souls that resisted the Passing, but for the most part it was up to the respective reaper. And Coran didn’t think this boy was going to hurt anyone.

“...alright. I won’t force you to come. But remember; you can’t stay in this world forever. Here’s my business card-- whenever you’re ready to go, just let me know! I’ll be here faster than you can say ‘budgie smugglers!’”

He gave Lance what he hoped was an encouraging smile, setting the card down on the wardrobe, then patted his shoulder. “It’ll be alright, son. Eventually.”

“Eventually,” Lance repeated, watching the ambulance pull out of the driveway, not bothering to turn on its lights or sirens.

As Coran turned, opening a shadow-gate to his next case, he looked back, frowning, at the newborn ghost.

Yes, every case is different, he thought. Every story unforgettable. He doubted, very much, that this one would be an exception.