Archive of Our Own

At some point, Keith had stopped counting the days.

With no sunrise it had become difficult to measure time. Nothing to measure the days except the whale's slow breathing and the slow and steady pulse that ran beneath his boots.

He and Krolia didn't talk much. They shared meals and training and the occasional glances Krolia gave to him, checking for him in silence. It was strange and uncomfortable, but somewhere underneath that, Keith was glad someone else was with him in this situation. Even if it was Krolia. His mother.

It was still weird to think about it. How a few days ago (days? weeks? months?) he thought he was completely alone in the universe, no family waiting for him back home, and suddenly he is hit with the fact that his mom is pretty much alive. And she's Galra too. Though that explains a lot of things about himself too.

It was during one of those long silences that it happened. The whale's pulse slowed down, so close to staying still, but at the same time it was deeper. Then something went warm in Keith's head and a flash blinded his eyes for a few seconds, like sunlight hitting his retina.

And the image in front of him was familiar. A small kitchen, walls painted in that particular shade of yellow he remembers way too well, like tattooed in his brain. A single window above the sink, the sun shining as it comes down the sky, as if it was burning itself, shades of amber filling the sky.

A man was standing with his back against Keith, broad shoulders and dark messy hair that mirrors his own, and the big yet gentle hands that were holding a camera.

"Okay," Time made Keith forget his voice, so hearing the warm voice of his father made him gasp and cover his mouth with his hands immediately, scared of breaking the moment, "You hold it like this and you look through here."

Beside him was Krolia, looking at him with extreme focus. A younger Krolia, softer at the edges, her face mixed with curiosity and a bit of fear in her eyes. She took the camera with both hands, as if it might jump and bite her.

"Like this…?" She asked, following his lover's instructions, focusing on the small creature who was sitting on the kitchen floor, looking up in search of his parents. Round-cheeked, dark hair that goes into multiple directions, looking at them with big bright eyes and trying to his own fist.

Keith looked at the baby, and felt a crack open in his chest, seeing himself, seeing a version of himself he can't even remember.

His father crouched next to him, messing up even more his hair, laughing low. "Hey, Keith. Smile for mama." And the baby looked at him, smiling widely.

Krolia presses the button again, the flash blinding Keith again.

Keith comes back to himself slowly, his heart beating hard against his chest.

The whale hummed beneath him, and his eyes got adjusted to the light again, the small white dots in his vision disappearing.

Keith had seen that photography before. He could even point where it should be now, millions of light years away, sitting in a box under his father's bed, hiding from the rest of the world. Somewhere only he could look at it.

Keith looked at Krolia, who seemed to be a similar state at him, except her eyes were shut closed. She probably was as affected as he was. Keith forgot that at the same time he was his father's son, Krolia was his father's lover. His mother. A mother that had to leave his baby behind, and that was one of the last memories she had of him.

The warmth in his head came again, lighter, but still there. Keith shut his eyes in instinct, and the whale took him out again.

"Wait," Lance was already leaning forward, grinning, "Let me see it again."

They're sitting on Keith's father bed. Lance's hair is a bit longer than it used to be, curling around at the end, two alteans marks rest under both his eyes, shining blue that contrasts against brown tanned skin. Keith is holding a photograph against his chest, cheeks tinted red. A pale scar cuts through the right side of his face.

"No. You already seen it." He argues back.

"Come on, Keith." Lance takes the photo from Keith hands, with so much respect and care, treating it like a sacred object. He studies it for a long moment, his expression a look of wonder. "You've got the same exact cheeks."

"I don’t–"

"You've got the same cheeks! I could squeeze them and it would be the same. You still got baby fat in your face, isn't that crazy?" His grin is contagious, and Keith can't help but smile softly at that. Lance glances again at the picture, and the grin shifted into something else. "You were really cute, babe."

"Yeah, whatever." Keith scoffs.

Lance looks at him for a moment, then back at the photo, and once again at him.

"You still are cute."

The vision released him gently.

Keith felt a hole on his chest, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips, like he was the one smiling in the vision and not observing from afar. In his brain, the thought of the vision being a dream instead of a reality was being brought up. He looked at Krolia with expectation, as if his mother knew all the secrets of the universe.

She was looking back at him, and the light in her eyes told him enough. She had seen it all.

"Was that… real? You showed him the photograph?" Krolia asks, her voice gentle and low, probably sensing Keith’s distress.

"No. I–. I've never showed anyone that." Keith struggles with his word, the hole in chest getting bigger and deeper.

The silenced stretched between them again, Krolia nodding at his words. Something that looked more like understanding.

"But you wanted to." And it wasn't a question, because she already knew the answer.

Keith looked away once again, colour blooming on his cheeks once again.

Krolia didn't push him, but instead got up and walked the two steps that were between their bodies, and squatted in front of him, forcing him to look straight at her.

After a moment, her hand founds his and squeezes tight.

"He'll see it. Someday."

Keith stares at the stars that reflect on her dark eyes, praying to whoever is there to help him that her words will become true.

The vision had changed something between them, probably made them realized that they had something bigger in common, something that forced them to get along. For the sake of the memories they had of the same man they both loved.

They talked a little more, Krolia sharing a few of her adventures in space, Keith talking about Voltron and his teammates, blushing furiously when he mentioned Lance. They trained more together. Krolia was a good teacher, teaching him all the kind of tricks she had learned throughout the years. She really didn't act like a mother would, but Keith didn't act like a son would neither. Eighteen years without his mother, thinking she had vanished from the universe, abandoned him or died, and getting hit with the fact that she's well alive isn't something easy to digest.

It was during one of those training sessions, when they were both fighting each other, when Keith's sweat started cooling uncomfortably on his skin, the pulse came to a stop. And before the light came before his eyes, he shielded them with his arms.

This time, the walls were grey and boring. The window didn't show the sky and the sun, instead it was facing another grey building. In the room there was a desk with stacked papers, two coffee mugs gone cold and a door left slightly open.

Keith sees himself, a younger version of himself, no older than thirteen. He has dark circles under his eyes, a bruise climbing up on the left side of his face, a mixture of red and purple, angry colours that is stark against his pale skin. He's sitting in one of the chairs, knees pulled towards his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible.

Through the gap of the door he can hear two recognisable voices.

"This is the third time in two months, Shiro."

That was Adam. His voice is calm, yet he has an angry undertone. Understandably, truly. Keith now thinks about how difficult he was back then, been given dozens of opportunities and flinging all of them, and how frustrating had to be for both Shiro and Adam.

"I know. But the other kid started it. I'm not saying he was wrong, I'm just saying—"

"And what I'm saying that this shall not continue. If it does, the staff won't think twice about expelling him. You have to think about what's good for him and whether this is the right place for him." Adam voice dropped, almost desperate.

"He's a child. And I—, I don't think that letting him go back into foster care is the best of the ideas. Here he can build himself a future at least. With some discipline, for sure but… Let him try, Adam." Shiro all but pleads. He really did fight for him back there. He must have seen something really special in Keith to be doing all that for him.

The small Keith in the chair had gone really still. His eyes, that were still fixed into the wall, were filling rapidly with tears. He didn't blink, scared of doing so in case the movement provoked the spilling of the tears down his face. He heard footsteps, once they were going in the opposite direction, others that went back into the room.

And the child who was so scared of crying folded back into himself, arms wrapping tighter around himself, as if that way he could hide from everything, from everyone. He didn't hear Shiro's voice calling him, neither when he asked him if he was okay. Yet he felt the heavy hand resting in his shoulder, squeezing it. And that was enough to let the tears run.

"What was that place?" Krolia asks, once they both got their breaths back.

"The Garrison. Military academy," He says, rubbing the back of his neck. "They train pilots, engineers…" Keith pauses, thinking his next words. "I was supposed to graduate there. One of the bests in my year."

Krolia watches him, like demanding him to continue.

"After dad died, I ended up in the foster system. So I went to different homes, different schools until Shiro found me. And I guess he saw something in me because he helped me to get into the Garrison." He glanced at his hands, that were spinning his blade unconsciously. "I had a hard time with authority, apparently. That's why I had so many incidents."

"What about the other man? Adam?"

Keith's jaw tightens uncomfortably, teeth grinding slightly. "He was Shiro's fiancé, they broke up when Shiro got selected for Kerberos."

"You seem angry at him." Krolia observes, having learned how to read him in a short period of time.

"He… He was good to Shiro, really. He also accepted me pretty quickly when Shiro made me meet him but… He was mad when Shiro accepted the position for the mission. He thought it was dangerous. And I mean, he was right. But he gave him an ultimatum, if he went, they will be over. You can imagine the rest." Keith kind of rants, uncomfortably. He is not used to let his mouth run like that. But something about Krolia listening to him, asking him to talk more. Just as if she wants to know what happened while she was away.

He stops for a moment, running his thumb carefully along the edge of the blade, more like a nervous habit than anything else.

"I thought that Shiro was brave and he would come back as a hero. And I also thought Adam was a coward," Keith admits, voice a bit quieter. "How could he made him choose between the mission and him? It's not fair."

Krolia stays silent for a moment after his words.

"That sounds familiar."

Keith looks at her, lost.

"Leaving behind your loved ones." Her voice is steady, yet careful. "Knowing it will hurt them, but at the same time, it's for their own good."

Keith gapes at her, like he's searching for words.

"I'm not saying that Adam was wrong for his decision. Neither was Shiro. I'm just saying that I understand both sides better than most. Your father didn't try to stop me when I had to leave." A beat passes. "But I saw in his eyes he didn't want me to. And sometimes I wish I didn't. But the mission was bigger than us, and me staying behind was exposing you and your father to an unnecessary threat."

"Do you think he forgave you?" Keith asks without meaning to.

Krolia looks straight into his eyes.

"I believe he did. I still don't know if you did, though."

Keith doesn't answer that, but he just nods, slowly, and looks back again at his own blade. He hasn't forgiven her. But he's getting there.

The creature moves fast, dodging whatever got in its way, Keith running fast behind it before Krolia could even register the movement.

She follows them immediately, a step behind them, watching in case Keith missed a step and she needs to get into action.

Kosmo scrambles ahead of them both, paws sliding on the smooth surface beneath them, uncoordinated limbs and way too much enthusiasm. They had been with him for a bit now. When they found him, Keith just looked down at the pup, then at Krolia, with such a helpless expression, having already decided the small creature belonged together with him and that was the end of the discussion. Krolia understood it and didn't give much fight. All she said was that Keith was the one that should take care of him and she wasn't cleaning the wolf when he will get inevitably dirty.

The creature spins around after cornering itself on accident. Krolia stops when she sees Keith has already the blade out.

The blade caught the faint bioluminescence of the whale and throws a blueish light across his face. Kosmo darts left, cutting the creature's possible escape route. Keith smirks, catching on Kosmo's plan immediately and adjusts, drops low and in one fluid motion he closes the distance between the creature and him.

It's over pretty quickly and Keith lets out a breath he didn't knew he was holding when he's finished. He straightens, pushing his hair out of his face and glances down to Kosmo, who seems to be smiling up to him, tongue out and tail going frantically in circles.

"Good boy," he mutters.

Kosmo barks back.

"You don't fight like other humans do," Krolia comments. "You fight on instincts."

Keith turns the blade in his hand, unconscious habit. His eyes stay on it a moment longer than necessary.

"I guess I'm built that way."

"Like mother, like son." She offers him a sympathetic smile, hoping her comment doesn't gets taken the wrong way.

Kosmo headbutts Keith on the knees, trying to grab his attention. Keith crouches to his level, and pets his hair with his free hand, as a reward for his good job back there.

Krolia watches them and something shifted in her chest.

"Come on," she calls them, reaching and taking the hunted creature by the back legs. "Time to go back to camp."

When Keith opens his eyes the first thing he sees is an aisle. Tons of flowers lining the sides, the warm light from the sun making everything shine like a diamond. There's rows and rows of people he doesn't recognise watching him and he feels his own feet moving, even though he's not aware of when he started doing so.

By the end of the aisle is Lance. Lance, who's all dressed up in white, gold and blue. Who's looking as handsome as ever, hair neat, the same altean marks he saw during the baby picture vision shining brightly and his eyes are wet with tears. His smile takes over his whole face, too.

Lance extends his hand towards him as he walks down.

And Keith thinks, This isn't my future, I'm dreaming. I'm not the one he's waiting for. But deep down he knows this isn't a dream, he doesn't remember falling asleep.

But he wants to believe it.

His hand reaches to grab at Lance's. And he sees a pale hand, crossed with scars that Keith knows the origin of each one, from training, from fighting, for picking at the skin around his fingernails. The crooked fingers and knuckles, broken a couple of times each.

He watches it close around Lance's. He even feels the warm, the pressure of a hand against his. Still doesn't think it's real.

Lance rubs his thumb along his knuckles, so, so gentle Keith feels goosebumps all over his back.

Keith doesn't deserve this future. The thought arrives to his head with such a determination he can't even think rationally. Keith is a problem, someone who grew up learning how to cause problems, break rules, run off at any given circumstance. Damn it, he already run away from Lance's side when things got difficult back at the Castle of Lions.

He is still trying to convince himself when the vision releases him.

Keith comes back gasping.

He presses a hand against his sternum like he can slow down his heart that way, breathing through his nose, once, twice. And he realizes, with a sting of frustration, that he just spent the last few minutes from the vision overthinking, spiralling, too busy convincing himself it wasn't real to actually let himself see it. Whatever happened after he took Lance's hand was gone. Completely gone.

He looks at Krolia, expecting her serious face looking at him, like it goes every time they share a vision. But she is asleep. Her back against the wide trunk of a tree, her breathing making her chest go up and down, constant. Kosmo is curled at her feet, resting too.

For the first time, Keith has seen something alone. Something just meant for him.

He pulls his legs up to his chest and looks down at his hand, remembering how it looked next to Lance's. He doesn't know how much time he spends looking at it.

Morning doesn't really mean anything on the whale, but they have started calling it that anyway, going by their stomachs rumbling. Krolia stretches, trying to get rid of the numbness of her body after a few hours of sleep and Kosmo already whining to demand attention and maybe some morning cuddles. She looks over to where Keith should still be sleeping, just to find him wide awake and sitting down, eyes unfocused on the floor.

His eyes are red-rimmed, swollen at the edges, clearly tired. He's holding his canteen between his hands, but it's closed and looks heavy in his hands. When he notices her looking at him,he blinks slowly, as if coming out of trance.

Krolia is on her feet before she even thinks about it.

"What happened tonight?" She asks, more nervous than Keith has ever seen her. She crosses the space between them, crouching in front of him and grabbing his face by his cheeks, moving his neck frantically in search of injuries. "Are you hurt?"

"What." His voice comes out rough, unused. He clears his throat and tries again. "No. I'm not hurt."

"So what happened? You look terrible."

"I… I had a vision last night. Alone. While you were sleeping." He says flatly.

Krolia goes still. She studies him for a second, the puffy eyes and the stiffness of his shoulders. Kosmo crawls to Keith's side and presses his head against his side, in a way to try to comfort him. Keith's hand automatically falls in his head, already scratching behind his ears.

"Was it bad?" Krolia asks carefully. "Is that why you look so tired? You didn't sleep?"

Keith opens his mouth and closes it again. The tip of his ears get red, and it spreads down his face.

"No, it wasn't bad."

"Then…?"

"It was about Lance." The words stumble over in his mouth, ripping them off like a bandage. His face is fully red now, and he busies himself with cuddling with Kosmo tighter.

Something that looks like the beginning of a smile tugs at Krolia's lips. "I see."

"Don't." Keith warns, though there's no real heat behind his words.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were about to."

Kosmo huffs and rests his head on Keith's lap, and Keith stares down, grateful he interrupted their conversation.

Krolia settles back on her heels. "Tell me about him. About your teammate."

"There's nothing to tell." Keith huffs, wanting the conversation to be already finished.

"Keith."

"What?"

"Every time you mention him you get red." She tilts her head slightly.

"I don't!"

"You do. And now you had a vision about him that didn't let you sleep during the night." Krolia points out, not teasing but genuinely curious about it. "I'd like to know more about my son's life. And he seems to be important to you, so I'd like to know about him."

Keith exhales slowly through his nose.

"He's on my team," he starts, with the most plain and obvious statement, like that explains anything. "He's… loud. Annoying. Obnoxious. He keeps saying we're rivals back at the Garrison, but I didn't remember him. I think that offended him a bit." A small helpless huff leaves his mouth, not quite a laugh. "But he's also really caring."

Krolia waits for him to continue, as many times she has already quieted down so Keith can open his mind to her.

"He cares a lot about the team. He treats them like they're his family. He's also pretty talented, even if he's not the best at fighting or piloting, he's still really good at it. He saved my ass a couple of times." His thumb moves absently over one of Kosmo's ears. "Lance is… he's nothing I thought he was when we first met."

"And in the vision?" Krolia asks gently. "What was he doing?"

"That's the part I'm not telling you."

Krolia laughs, low and surprised, Keith's answer catching her off guard.

"Keep your secrets. I've got another question for you."

"Shoot."

"Do you love him?"

Keith's body goes rigid. "What, no, I —" He fumbles with the words. "It's not like that, we're not even—"

Krolia hums, her face breaking in a grin at Keith's nervousness. "It's just you and me in this place. No need to get so nervous."

"…Yeah." He finally admits, so quiet that if his mother wasn't paying attention to him, it would have been lost into space.

"You should tell him when you get back to the Castle."

Keith is shaking his head before she's even finished speaking.

"No way." His voice comes out sharper than intended. "He barely tolerates me, much less like or love me back. We argue all the time, we get on each others nerves…, he probably hates me! He was disappointed in me when I left!"

"Keith—"

"No, mom, you don't get it. It doesn't make any sense, all these visions. Lance complimenting me or Lance waiting for me at the altar. I don't get what or why this is happening, but something's wrong with the universe, it's getting things wrong or playing in my face. I don't get it."

During his rant the volume of his voice had gotten higher, now almost shouting. Krolia doesn't interrupt, doesn't flinch at that, just watches him with the same patience she always has.

"Every vision we have lived has been real. Whether they were a memory of the past or a thread of something that on its way of becoming real." Krolia explains him, choosing her words carefully.

"Maybe it's wrong this time."

"Maybe. But I don't think the universe plays games with people's heart for no reason."

"I don't want to hope for something that isn't going to happen," Keith says, his voice back to a more normal tone, the anger leaving his body by waves. "I'd rather not know about it so I don't wish for it to be true."

Krolia reaches out and grabs his chin up gently. "Then don't think about it as hope, but instead think about it like something that is written in your destiny and you have yet to reach it." She presses a light kiss to the top of his head, where his hair becomes tangled and messy, the way she did once, years ago, when she had to leave him for the first time.

They've fallen into a routine these last few weeks — or months, it's getting harder to tell as days pass by —and Kosmo has grown into it too, no longer the clumsy puppy. Still as enthusiastic, though.

Keith throws a branch into the air, and Kosmo doesn't even get bothered to chase it anymore, he just blinks out of existence and reappears mid-air to catch it with his mouth before it has even touched the floor, landing gracefully.

"That's cheating." Keith tells him, but he's laughing.

Krolia's watching them a few feet away from them, arms loosely crossed, thinking she has never heard Keith laugh so openly as she has watching him play with his space-dog. This is the closest thing to peace she has felt in a while. Which is strange, being stuck on the whale with no clear way home and no idea of how long this is going to last. And yet…

Then a white flash of light blinds her suddenly, swallowing her whole view.

A toddler stumbles over his own feet, arms out in balance, more letting himself fall forward instead of walking, but still determined about it. He shrieks with laughter at nothing particular.

His father is crouched a few feet ahead, arms open and waiting to catch him.

"Come on, you're almost here," he says grinning. "You've got it, baby."

Keith crashes into him with no grace and his father laughs, scooping him up and spinning him before settling him in his arms. Keith babbles something that resembles words but are not quite like that yet, and his father nods along like he's telling him a secret or sharing very important information.

"Yeah? What else about it?"

More babbling, more squirming in his arms.

Krolia studies the face of her lover. He's smiling, the same warm smile she remembers, but there's something different. New lines fanned out from the corner of his eyes, the dark circles under his eyes are more prominent. He's aged way too fast in a short period of time, Keith being the living proof of the years that have passed since she left.

The thought hits her hard, like a fresh wound. She's watching the life of her baby, the last few years of her love, from outside, like she's a stranger, and not part of their family. The guilt sits heavy and familiar in her chest, an old companion she never quite learns how to live with.

She watches how he presses a kiss to Keith's temple, setting him back on the floor on his unsteady feet. "You go again, come on. On your own."

His father watches him the whole time he's trying to walk alone, catching when he's about to fall down, and cleaning his tears when he inevitably falls down.

Krolia comes back to herself standing in the same spot, same posture. Like she never went away. Keith, the real one, is still playing with Kosmo, who has now stolen the stick and is refusing to give it back.

She watches him and for a second she's seeing the same clumsy toddler he used to be. He's still there, somehow. Grown into an adult, into a fighter.

"You okay?" Keith calls over, having noticed her seriousness.

"Yes." Her voice comes out rougher than she means to, almost like a growl.

Keith shrugs, and focus back on Kosmo, now looking for a treat for him in his pockets.

She watches her son again, the ghost of a smaller boy laughing in her memories.

One moment Keith was crouched by the fire cracking between them, the only warm light in the dark, and the next, the ground lurched beneath them like something enormous had moved during its sleep.

He didn't even have time to call it out, to put himself out of the danger of rocks and anything that can fall straight into him. But Krolia was faster than him, already moving and hooking her arm around his shoulders, yanking him sideways, her body curling over his, a hand coming to press in the back of his skull, holding him down against her chest.

It was something close to a scream, a deep and tearing cry that seems to travel through the ground, through the air, through their bones and up to their teeth. Keith felt it before he heard it, crawling up his spine and burst into flames behind his eyes, and then he was screaming too, his hands clamped over his ears uselessly. The sound was inside him, ringing in the hollow of his skull.

Krolia made a sound against his head, something between a groan and a growl, pained and not entirely human, but still she didn't let him go, even if they kept falling and falling. If anything, her arm tightened, protecting him with all of her strength.

Kosmo yelped and vanished in a blink of blue light, reappearing pressed against both of them, shaking.

The noise stopped abruptly, leaving Keith's ears ringing, a high whine that doesn't fade, and for a second he couldn't tell if the wetness on his face were tears or sweat.

Krolia's grip on him loosened. Her hand on his head dropped down to his shoulder, and she stayed bent over for a few more seconds, catching her breath.

"Are you hurt?" Her voice comes out raw.

"No. I—" Keith swallowed, not quite hearing himself yet. "Are you?"

When she finally pulls away to look at him, there's a thin line of blood at her hairline, where she must have hit the ground.

"You're bleeding." He reached up before he could think better of it, fingers hovering over her injury, but Krolia pushed away his hands.

"It's nothing." She said, dismissing her own hurt, like it's a minor inconvenience.

Keith stared at her, at her blood. She had thrown herself over him without a single thought, with no hesitation, to protect him. Like the only thing in her mind was protecting him, instinct faster than thought. She had done it once, back eighteen years ago, and she was ready to do it again. To sacrifice herself in favour of her son.

Her eyes stayed on him, hard and searching, like trying to look for wounds on him. And before Keith could brace it, she pulled him in again.

Her arms wrapped around him fully this time, one hand pressed against the space between his shoulder blades, the other curling in his hair, a mirror of what she did minutes ago, except there was no danger now, nothing to shield him from.

Kosmo sneaked in the space between their bodies, tail waggling weakly, and Krolia accepted him in the embrace too, the hand on Keith's head moving to the wolf's.

Keith went stiff for half a second, unsure of what he should put his hands, but then, slowly, he let himself sink in, hugging her back.

They come back to Earth differently than they left it. Keith's hair was longer, shoulders broader and the scar he once saw in a vision found a place on his face.

It took Keith a long time to bring her here. Maybe longer than it should. But he was scared of breaking down the moment he set a foot in or of not finding him in the same place he was resting the last time he came.

Krolia stops a few feet away, waiting for Keith to talk.

"I used to come here a lot," he says. "When I had no one to talk with."

Krolia lowers down next to him, and brushes her fingers on the rock, feeling the carving of a familiar name.

"What did you talk to him about?"

"Stupid stuff, mostly. About how I got kicked out again, about Shiro." Keith huffs, sounding almost like a laugh. "I remember once I told him about an annoying guy who wouldn't stop arguing with me during the flight simulations."

"Lance?"

"Yeah, Lance." He confirms, and his hand drifts unconsciously to the ring on his finger, thumb running over the band.

They stay there for a few more minutes, just watching his father's grave, surrounded by a heavy silence.

"I don't usually say I miss him," he says, breaking the moment, cracking his chest open. The tears come fast to his eyes, like they had been waiting for him to open up. He doesn't care, not this time, kneeling in front of his father's name, crying like he did when he was a kid. "But I wish he could have met you again. Or Lance. I wanted—"

Krolia looks at him, her eyes as glassy as his, letting him finish talking. She knows it is better not to interrupt him in moments like this, where he felt he could trust her enough to let her see him feel something so deep.

"I'm sure he's watching you, wherever he is, however that works, he knows you miss him. I wish I was there for you when it happened—"

Keith wipes at his face with the back of his hand, a small and wet laugh escaping from his mouth. "I know, mom. You are here now, aren't you? That's enough for me."

He reaches for her hand, his fingers finding hers where they rest in the grass, closing around them.

"He would be so proud of you," she says, barely above a whisper. "The hero his son became."

Keith shakes his head. "I don't feel like a hero. Most days I feel like I'm trying not to mess everything up."

"I think that's what makes you a hero." Krolia squeezes his hand. "Your father used to say that bravery wasn't about not being scared, but doing it anyways even if you're scared."

"Yeah, he used to tell me that when I had nightmares and I tried to sleep in his bed instead of mine." Keith's tears are long forgotten now, now a small smile is pulling at his lips.

"Your father was annoyingly wise and smart. You know, Lance reminds me a bit of him."

"How come?"

"Imagine the situation when I first came to Earth. It was difficult, I was difficult. Yet your father didn't give up on helping me." Krolia tilts her head, like she's expressing this thought for the first time out loud. "Isn't Lance like this with you, too? He didn't give up on you either. And you're difficult."

Keith doesn't answer right away, just looks down again at his ring, as if it has the answer.

"Yeah. He never gives up. Never." He says quietly. "Not even when I wanted him to."

"Your father was the same way. Persistent to the point of being unbearable." Krolia's gaze drifts again to the grave, a little nostalgic and sad. "Your father would have loved him, too."

Keith's throat gets tight again. "Yeah. Lance would have loved meeting him. Maybe I'll bring him along next time."

They stay there for a little while, neither of them in a hurry to leave, their hands still wrapped together. The grass is damp under their knees, the sun is climbing higher behind them and for the first time in a long time, Keith doesn't feel like something else is gonna happen, like someone or something is gonna snatch this memory from him.