The Best Klance Fanfictions

The Future's Full Of Clones

"Um, guys," he said tentatively. "What is that?"

Keith spun his lion around, eyes peeled for what Lance could possibly be talking about, though it was soon very apparent that he didn't need to be looking so hard. It was obvious.

What looked like a hundreds foot tall sandstorm was racing towards them. It swallowed up Galra ships, their purple lights winking out of existence as the wall of sand and dust and who knows what else raced past them, obscuring them in what was most likely a terrifying cloak of darkness. Piloting in that would be terrible - no one would know where they're going, ships would collide with friend and foe alike.

"Let's get out of here!" Pidge shouted, the first to follow her own order. She spun her lion around and began racing away from the fast approaching wall of sand, and the rest of them quickly followed her lead.

Keith was closest to the sandstorm, but Red was also the fastest, so he should've been fine. Should've been able to catch up with everyone else, surpass them if he wanted to. But he couldn't.

"C'mon," he urged, glaring at the backs of the other lions; blue, yellow, green, and black, slipping farther and farther out of his reach. But he couldn't speed up, couldn't catch them, even as he leaned against the thrusters as hard as he could, even as he chanted encouragements at Red through their mental link.

God, Shiro had been right. He should've stayed in the sky, should've been up high enough to see this coming, to warn everyone...

He could hear his teammates calling out to each other faintly, their voices sharp and urgent, but for some reason he couldn't make out the words, possibly a problem with his communicators. Maybe the dust-

Because yes, the dust. It wasn't just behind him, it was creeping up before Red, his field of vision first turning brown, then darker and darker as more of the sand rushed past him, obscuring his field of vision. He kept pushing forward, sure he'd be out of it soon enough, sure he'd catch up with the other lions, except Red was slowing down, it felt like. Growing groggy and irritated, the sand getting between her joints, into her exhaust.

Desperate, she let out a roar, as if she could scare the sand away, but it didn't fix the situation at all. It grew darker all around them and Keith knew it wasn't safe to keep flying, knew he could crash right into another ship or something worse, if he wasn't lucky. And still he kept flying, a tight ball of panic making itself known in his chest. He ignored it, sure he'd be fine in just another second, another two...

Red only just had time to convey something along the lines of alarm and concern before they were sinking abruptly - plummeting, really. No matter what Keith did their descent didn't slow, and it got to the point where he stopped trying to direct Red and started clinging onto his armrests instead, hoping to make the impact the least amount of jarring as possible. What made it worse was having no idea how high up he was, how far he was falling, when he was going to hit the ground.

And so he just fell, and fell, and fell.

And long after he thought he should've stopped falling, by now, surely, he crashed.

A deep, insistent throbbing in his head was what finally pulled Keith back to wakefulness. It was like a thread he could cling to, a line he could pull, and from there he could find his way back, swimming through the darkness and confusion towards the light.

I must have hit my head, he thought groggily, still struggling to open his eyes. It didn't really make sense - he'd been strapped into his seat and wearing his helmet - but the ache he was feeling didn't leave room for very many questions.

Finally, he managed to wrench his eyes open, blinking and squinting in confusion at the sudden abundance of light. It wasn't the light of the sun or the cockpit of his lion, but the ceiling lights of the castle. When had he gotten back to the castle? And why was he here, wherever he was, instead of emerging zombie-like from a cryopod?