Langst - Klance oneshots

These Are The Battles I Wage

I am dead inside :)

Keith's POV

There's nothing. What? My head whips around, trying to make sense of the surroundings. I catch sight of my hands and shriek in surprise. My arms, everything, is transparent. I place my hand tentatively over my heart. I feel it beating. I let out a sigh. Remembering why I'm here, I scan the nothingness, looking for something.

I feel a cold presence behind me. I get into a defensive position and turn around. Far away from me I spot two identical humanoid figures. One was standing tall and proud, holding the hand of the other. The other hung its head low, their shoulders sagged as though put through an incredibly hellish workout. They were sinking into the void of the nothingness. The lower they went, the other figure held on to their hand, as though comfortingly, crouching down lower with the other.

I run. The distance only seems to grow. Red's roar echoed in my ears and suddenly I'm there at the scene. My eyes widen and I'm paralyzed. The figures were...Lance? Both of them looked the exact same. I reach out to grab the falling Lance's other hand to see if I can pull him back up. To my utter horror, my hands go right through his. I stagger back, before trying to use my voice. I scream and shout but nothing is working. Neither seem to see me. The Lance that's sinking is sobbing, but there are no tears. His face is contorted in pain and it physically hurts me to see him in so much pain. I reach out again, this time to the other Lance. However, this time, my hands cup his face. He turns his head to me and smiles slightly. A sad, broken smile. A smile of a soldier who's seen hell and had to make a home there. I look him in the eye pleadingly, but all he does is squeeze my hand caringly with his own.

"No... No. I-I- No!" I cry out. His eyes are dull and empty. His smile is strained and he looks so, so exhausted. He looks so ill. I can't see someone I care so much about in so much pain. I squeeze my eyes tight as one thing makes sense to me.

There is only so much I can do. This is not my fight. I can't fight the battles of other people for them, as much as I wish I could.

I open my eyes to see I'm back in Red's cockpit.

This was Lance's war, and his war alone.

Lance's POV

There are no words for this anymore. It's being on the verge of giving up. It's being so, so fucking tired. They don't get it, do they? They don't understand. I'm. So. Exhausted. How much pain did I have to take before giving up is finally okay? Am I there? I don't care anymore, actually. I'm done. I grasp tightly onto my other self's hand.

Do they understand my pain? No. No they fucking don't. And I will never understand theirs. But I understand what pain feels like. My pain is different from everyone else's. Pain is not something that can be put to justice by anything tangible. No one cannot begin to understand; no one cannot begin to even imagine. Neither can I. Nobody understands, do they? Nobody understands how trying it is. Even when your chains are broken, are you truly free? Are we truly free? Have we ever known what it's like to be free? Of everything? Of morality? People? Consequences? Society? Ourselves? I am so tired of this.

I reach out, one last time to Happiness. This will be the last time I feel them, because after this, I will no longer have to exist. Perhaps I won't achieve Happiness, but I will no longer be strangling my own self. I call out telepathically. I search for one last desperate shred of hope. One last lifeline to come back from this. To see my family again. Both blood and space.

I feel a presence, so I reach out to them. I struggle against the restraints, as if pulling myself from tar. My fingers brush against a hand, and I lunge at it to grab hold of it. I don't bother pulling myself out, I just needed to hold someone's hand right now. The hand begins to pull me up. I don't help it. Is it not already clear? I'm giving up.