Pidge felt every muscle in her body stiffen at the sight of him. There he was, bathed in the light of the trans-reality ship, his entire body hued purple by the cockpits glow.
Terribly violent aches ripped at her chest, and he stomach felt like she had just ingested a hot coal.
She watched him studiously as he removed himself from the ship, eyes scanning his being for any confirmation that it wasn't him.
It couldn't be. Could it?
"Lance?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Hey pigeon." His voice filled her ears, drowning out any other white noise in the hangar. A bitter taste climbed it's way onto her tongue.
"That can't be you..." She spat, her eyes still refusing to meet his gaze. The tall man removed his helmet, revealing his face. Pidge heard herself inhale, and could in no way hide the fact that she was staring at him.
The man's face was familiar and comforting, like the smell of her grandmother's cooking. His brows were thick, as was the stubble that resided on his strong jaw. His hair held flecks of grey and was a bit longer than she remembered it to be. When she finally met his gaze, he opened his mouth to speak again.
"I can confirm, I am in fact me." He said, his characteristic nonchalant tone making her heart skip a beat.
"But... But..." Pidge saw her hands flailing around in front of her, searching for the right words. Her lips pursed into a grimace, "You died 20 years ago, Lance. I saw you... I watched-" her own quiet sob cut her off.
Lance's brows hesitated, looking across at the small woman in front of him. Eventually, they furrowed, and he found his next sentence. "So I've heard. But here I am, in your reality."
"But you can't be."
"Please Pidge I-"
"But you can't be!" The woman argued, her trembling hands reaching up to her temples. Lance felt himself smile sympathetic, however hard it may have been to smile in this situation.
"Do I really have to explain to you the concept of an alternate reality? You've lost your touch, Pidge" he teased gently, putting his hands on his hips. Pidge tried to keep it together, she really did... but at the sight of Lance taking up his favourite stance, she snapped.
Hot tears flooded down Pidge's cheeks, accompanied by small whimpers. Both her hands clasped around her mouth, attempting to conceal her blubbering lips. They failed. She felt sick to her stomach, feeling as if she was going to drop to her knees and wretch. All from the sight of her dead husband standing right in front of her.
"I understand how hard this must be for you though..." Lance said softly, taking a step closer to her. Pidge flinched at his movement.
"Its funny, after 20 years... you're the level headed one out of the two of us." Pidge snivelled, her hands still held close to her face.
Lance let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Who would have guessed it?"
"Definitely not me," Pidge bit back almost too quickly, her gaze still unmoving from the man's eyes. They were still just as blue as the image that was burned into her mind, except they held more wisdom and age.
"I've missed that wit," Lance chortled, a smirk making it's way onto his lips.
"Oh shush." Pidge scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. They both chuckled nervously, avoiding eye contact for a few moments. Pidge inhaled, her breath quaking in her lungs when she met his gaze once more. "You look so much older, Lance."
"You don't look a day over 23," Lance retorted, grinning from ear to ear. He couldn't help but let his eyes roam over the face in front of him, drinking in every detail. She looked identical to his wife, his Katie. Right down to the placement of every freckle on her aged face. She was even wearing his jacket. The only difference was the length of her hair, hers falling just below her shoulders rather than the pixie cut that his Katie had adorned.
She was still as beautiful as he remembered.
"How can you be standing here.. 15 feet in front of me..." She strained, pulling Lance back into reality. "I mean, I know how but... urgh why is this so hard?" Pidge clenched her jaw, pain blooming at the base of her skull as she tried to come to terms with his existence.
"It's okay, Pidge..." Lance took another step closer, but Pidge scrunched up her nose.
"You haven't been alone for 20 years of your life how can you possibly say it's okay?"
Lance's eyes widened, "You've been on your own all that time?" He said softly, not knowing where to look. A deep ache pulled at his lungs, furthered by the grieving expression on her face. He swallowed the bile that had risen at the back of his throat. "Y-you didn't re-marry?"
"There was never anyone else, Lance." She replied immediately, her expression deadpan. A frission ripped down Lance's spine, a feeling only she could give him that flipped his stomach. Much like her next words. "What about you? What am I like in your reality?"
"My Katie died around 5 years ago..." He said solemnly, " and I was too busy raising our daughter to even look at another woman." Lance laughed to himself, a broken smile pulling at his jaw.
"Our daughter?" Pidge inhaled sharply, blinking away the haze from her eyes. Lance's brows fluctuated at the sound of hope that hide in her tone of voice.
"Yeah."
"What's our daughter called?"
Lance chewed on his bottom lip, "Lily, but..."
"But?..." Pidge pressed, feeling herself take a small step in his direction. Lance's expression dropped along with his heart, struggling to force the next words from his lips.
"She's not our daughter."
Pidge shot backwards at the harshness of his voice in her ears, her own voice clinging to the back of her drying throat. She tried to speak.
No sound.
"That's just the thing, Pidge. You're not my Katie. You're not my wife." Lance added factually, wincing at his own words. He felt heat dusting on his face, the burning sensation spreading to his eyes as he watched tears drip from Pidge's eyes.
"I know... I just..." Her words wavered only slightly, yet her lips quivered.
"I'm sorry Pidge but you're not." Lance repeated, shaking his head before catching her eye. "I mean we're both, it's just sort of..." He stuttered, the confidence leaving his own voice. The sorrowful look in Pidge's eye crept into his own, burrowing it's way into his mind until it was begging him to hold her.
He knew that look. 13 years of of marriage had secured that look into his mind. She cried out for comfort, but she wasn't his wife. Lance had to remind himself so many times. She may have looked, sounded and cried like her... but...
"Oh fuck it,"
Lance's legs almost buckled as he ran towards her, water pouring from his own eyes as she too bolted towards him. They met with a thud in the middle hangar, Pidge's arms sligging around Lance's neck with such a force he feared his head may have come off. She jumped up into his arms, their limbs tangling in a desperate attempt to cling onto one another.
"I thought I'd never see you again," Pidge wept into Lance's shoulder, her whole body convulsing with every breath. Lance threaded his hands through her hair, silently shedding his own tears.
"Same here, Pigeon. But here we are."
His next words were swallowed by Pidge's lips crashing into his, gliding over them with desperate passion and need. Lance returned her longing, feeling himself crying into the kiss. When they finally broke apart, his hands cupped her cheeks, them hot and damp beneath his palms. Their breathing was heavy, echoing in the hangar. Gasping for air, Lance rested his forehead against his wife's, gaze flitting between her lips and her eyes.
"I've missed you so much..." He breathed, laughing at the bewildered expression on her face.
"I missed you t-"
Pidge's words were interrupted by loud wailing immediately to their right.
"That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!"
The pair bolted upright, hardly daring to looking in the direction of the sound. Their eyes met the sight of a recognisable collection of people, all standing, staring at them. Lance was the first to laugh, ignoring the furious burn in his cheeks. Pidge soon followed, as did the rest of them.
Shiro helped them to their feet, patting Lance firmly on the shoulder as they all headed back into the Garrison, desperate to hear stories of Lance's reality.
Hunk stopped crying...
Eventually.