Chapter Text
Blue hadn’t always been Lance’s favourite color. When he was a child, he used to collect white shells on the beach, only to bring them back home, pierce them and run a fine thread in the holes, making necklaces for his friends and family. He loved the color white. White as the sand of Varadero Beach on which he ran back and forth, white as the seafoam he swam in, white as the clouds he’d fantasized to sleep onto, white as the Moon he’d dreamt to explore, hand reaching for it as he laid on the beach at night, fingers seemingly brushing the bright surface of that shiny orb, so delicate and fascinating to a little child.
“I’m going to be an astronaut, you know? I’m going to reach the stars and I’ll bring you little white pebbles from the Moon! Like- like the necklaces I give you every time, but better!” Lance used to say, grinning with a toothless smile as his mother smoothed his chocolate hair back, cradling the child in her lap.
“And you’ll make a necklace with Moon pebbles too?”
“Yes! The- the specialiest Moon-pebble-necklace for mamá”.
And his mother used to laugh, kissing her precious child on the forehead, hugging him closer, “The ‘specialiest’, mh? I can’t wait, mijo”.
He’d dreamt of his feet hitting the white lunar surface every night, as he stood proud, a knight in a shiny white armor, so pure and sparkling, enhanced by the little pearls around it, lighting the cosmos.
But one day, the white was taken away from Lance. One day, his biggest dream was taken away from him. His white had died. Fate had decided that he was doomed to Earth, that reaching that white was impossible. And Lance’s world crumbled, shattered to pieces with those ten letters plastered before his eyes. Cargo pilot. Cargo. Pilot.
He was never going to see the stars, was he? He was never going to reach for that white wish, he was never going to touch the Moon with his own hands. Lance was doomed to Earth.
And as his dreams got taken away from him, the desire for white died. He hadn’t made it. He had failed at his one-time opportunity. He was doomed to Earth, doomed to the little white things that could not compare to the stars and the Moon.
And he hated it. He hated that white now. He hated it all- the white Moon he couldn’t reach, and the white stars, the white seafoam and sand, the shells… All of it. Everything white reminded him of his broken dream, of how he’d failed, of how he was never going to be happy.
Cargo pilots mostly travelled to nearby planets without getting the chance to see them, simply dropping off the goods and taking off to Earth again, never staying away from home for more than half a day. And Lance loved his home, but he also loved to explore, and his only chance had just been taken away. Forever.
So, whenever he could, he gazed at the sky during the day, avoiding the stars and the Moon, shying away from the sun, simply staring at the so familiar blue reflected in his electric blue eyes, of which his mother was so proud of.
Maybe blue wasn’t a bad color after all… Maybe blue was his destiny.
And it turned out, it was.
When he found the Blue Lion, he realized that blue had been his destiny all along. If he’d longed for white more, he would have never met his friends, never met his hero, never met his rival from so close, and he would have never met Blue. Blue, she understood him. Lance felt like he’d piloted Blue since he was born, like she was his best friend, like they were meant to be together. And they were.
With Blue, he could reach for the stars and leap far beyond the Moon, explore spaces that no human had ever seen or even only thought of.
Lance could feel, he could finally feel again.
He could feel the warmth of something in his chest, that once-white spark burning bright, only that it was blue now, an intense flame spreading across his soul, making him whole again.
“Good girl...” he always said. Blue, she really was a good girl.
And whenever he complimented her like one would do with their partner, Blue purred softly under his hand patting the mechanical beast, his other half.
His teammates found it funny that Lance talked to his Lion, but he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t just think what he needed to say- he needed to word those feelings out loud, to let them be heard, starting to slowly fill the void that the death of his white sparkle had left. Because Blue was better than anything white that Lance could have ever had.
Better than the tiny shells, better than the seafoam and the sand, better than the clouds, better than the stars and the Moon he could have touched. Blue was made of stars. She was made of stars and cosmic dust, she was part of everything, she was whole and made Lance feel the same- much more than what he believed possible.
Now, that kid staring at those ten cursed words was no more, that kid trying to grip to the white sparkle was gone, that kid filled with rage and despair as the sparkle faded and slipped did not exist anymore. Lance had found Blue, and the sensation of emptiness and void had been filled to the brim with ocean waves. He felt like his soul had never been brighter than that. And it was burning blue.
When the team was sent to a planet that resembled the Moon in the Solar System- it was inhabited, but the scenario was similar, almost identical to their Moon’s- Lance’s breath stopped, eyes wide in disbelief as he got off his Lion and placed one foot on the white surface.
He made it. He finally made it.
“Lance, what's up?” Shiro asked worriedly, tapping his shoulder as he noticed the absent look in his teammate's eyes.
The Blue Paladin gulped, gripping at his chest shakily as he crouched down, hands brushing the surface as Shiro fretted behind him, crouching too and not understanding what was going on.
“Lance, hey, are you feeling sick? Talk to me-”
“This... This is a Moon pebble. A white, Moon pebble. Shiro, look.” he spoke softly, showing the little rock in his hands, “Can I take it with me?”.
Shiro eyed him in concern, but nodded.
“Yeah, sure. But, why?”
“I… I promised my mother that I’d…”. No, he was not going to get emotional in front of Shiro because of a literal pebble. Blue purred incessantly in his mind. His Blue.
Maybe he could paint this pebble blue. Or maybe he could leave it white. But he’d made it, Lance had made it to the Moon, he’d touched the white with his own hands like he used to dream, he'd made his dream come true. And even if his soul was burning blue now, sparkles of white danced around the flames, and he was finally, really, sincerely whole.