The ship hummed softly in the quiet of the hangar, the glow of the healing pod casting an eerie blue light. Inside the pod, Lance lay still, his features peaceful, but the bruises and bandages covering him told a different story. Keith paced anxiously, the weight of worry pressing heavily on his chest.

He glanced at the pod, heart racing. It had been hours since the battle, since he had watched Lance take the brunt of an attack meant for him. Keith had rushed to him, panic surging as he saw his partner crumple. Now, all he could do was wait, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.

Pulling Lance’s jacket tighter around himself, Keith curled up against the side of the pod. The fabric was warm, infused with Lance's scent—salt and something sweet, like the sun on a summer day. It was a small comfort, a reminder of the vibrant person who had filled the ship with laughter and light.

“C’mon, Lance,” Keith murmured, voice cracking. “You can’t just leave me like this.” He pressed his forehead against the cool surface of the pod, eyes fluttering shut as he tried to keep the panic at bay. “You promised we’d get through this together.”

The silence weighed heavily, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the healing pod. Keith felt a lump in his throat as memories flooded back—Lance teasing him, the warmth of shared laughter, the way his smile could light up the darkest corners of space. The thought of losing that spark was unbearable.

“Please wake up,” he whispered, desperation spilling from his voice. “I need you. We all need you.”