((How'd you guys like that cliffhanger? I know, I'm an asshole. But just FYI this chapter and the next will be angsty. Very angsty. Warnings are physical abuse, self-harm, and alcoholism. Thank you for your support! - Wolfie))

Keith had avoided Lance all day. Lance made an effort to talk to the omega, but Keith ignored every attempt the alpha tried. Even during soccer, Keith ignored Lance. Unless Lance shouted things during the skirmishes, Keith completely shut him out. 

After discovering that the person he'd been talking to online was in truth the soccer team captain, Keith instantly went into panic mode. He shut off his phone and stayed off of it until the morning. He had remained silent for the most part for the entire day, not talking to anyone, even Allura. 

"Keith! Please, talk to me," Lance pleaded, jogging to catch up as Keith made his way to his motorcycle, hair still wet from his shower. 

Keith shook his head, spraying drops of water around him in shining arcs, he pulled on his helmet before swinging his leg over the seat. He jammed the key into the ignition, revving the engine. Gravel crunched under the wheels as Keith rode out of the parking lot, leaving Lance brokenhearted and in the dust. 

Heart pounding, Keith broke the speed limit all the way back to his father's house. On the way there, it had begun to rain. Luckily, he'd worn his leather jacket, which kept him dry. The rain had numbed his fingers, however. He only ever wore his finger-less gloves when he took trips on his bike, even in the winter. He pulled into the garage, his heart plunging to his feet when his eyes landed on his father's beat up old Chevy Silverado. Keith hastily took off his helmet, gloves, and jacket, piling them on the seat of his bike before he made his way to the side door where he took off his boots and socks. 

Swallowing, he opened the door, wincing at the creaking. He made sure to tread softly, hoping his dad would be knocked out. Unfortunately, he wasn't so lucky. A deep and raspy voice boomed from the living room, making the omega flinch. 

"Why the hell are you so late?!" 

"I-I had practice..." Keith squeaked before clearing his throat. He shuffled to the living room, keeping his shoulders hunched in and arms curled against his chest. 

"That's no excuse! I come home to a messy house and no son! What am I supposed to think?!" Keith's father stood from the couch, reaching to his full height of six foot three. His broad chest spread out and his bulky arms crossed over it. His deep brown eyes blazed as he stared at Keith, making the smaller boy tremble. 

"M-messy? I-I cleaned on Saturday!" Keith protested. The minute the words left his mouth he regretted it, knowing that back-talk would make the whole situation worse. 

"Don't sass me, you ungrateful little shit!" Roared the large man, raising an arm and bringing it down, palm open. His callused hand collided with Keith's face with so much force that it knocked the omega to the floor. 

"I-I'm s-sorry! I-I didn't mean it!" Keith whimpered, holding his cheek. 

"And what have I said about stuttering?!" Keith was yanked up from the ground, hard. His shoulder jerked uncomfortably and he let out a yelp of pain. "I will not have a retarded child!"

"I'm sorry!" Keith pleaded, trying his best not to cry. His father's fingers were digging into his wrist, ripping open the scabs on his skin. He scrabbled at his dad's hand, writhing as he tried to get the pain to stop. 

"If you were sorry, you wouldn't have done this!" 

Keith landed on the floor with a crack, his head smacking against the hard wood. His ears rung and his eyes went fuzzy. Shakily, he began to push himself back up. The moment he steadied himself on his hands and knees, a booted foot nailed him in the ribs, sending jolts of pain through him. He cried out, falling to the ground again. He instinctively went into the fetal position, breathing raggedly. 

"I give you food! I give you shelter! And what do I get in return?! Back-talk and no gratitude whatsoever!" Raged Keith's father, landing another blow to Keith's ribs. He reached down, tangling his thick fingers in Keith's hair. The bigger man jerked Keith's head up, giving the teen whiplash. "You have no respect! I thought I taught you better!" 

"P-please! Stop!" Keith croaked, a few tears dripping down his cheeks. His eyes were pleading as he gazed at his father. 

As if he hadn't spoken, his father went on. "I thought your mom had taught you better! Ever since she left, you've been getting worse and worse!" Another severe kick to the ribs sent Keith sliding across the floor. His back rammed into the leg of their coffee table. Empty beer bottles and cans clinked together, rattling atop the glass surface. A few of the bottles on the edge of the table fell over, shattering on the ground. "See?! See what you do?! I work hard to feed you and shelter you! I don't ask for much in return! But you refuse to do any of that!"

Keith tried to speak, but couldn't find his voice. He watched in silence as his father stomped over to where he lay. Within seconds, he was in the air, flying towards the wall. He hit the paint with enormous force. Spluttering on his hands and knees Keith clutched at his chest in a futile attempt to get air back into his lungs. He could feel something dripping through his hair, but his head was too muddled for him to make out what it could be. Stars danced across his vision and his ears buzzed. 

By the time he had managed to breathe again, his father had one of the broken beer bottles clutched tightly in his fist and he could smell the natural gas from their fireplace. Not good. The look on his face was one of pure hatred, his lips twisted into a grimace and his eyes blazing. 

"Dad..." Keith whispered, voice raspy. 

"Shut up! Shut up, you fucking faggot!" 

The older man lunged, the hand with the beer bottle rising before coming back down in a long arc. Keith had just enough time to turn his head before the edge of the bottle dug into his shirt, tearing the fabric, and down to his skin. The pointy edge buried itself in the skin just above his shoulder blade and ripped down over his shoulder until a few inches below his collarbone. A scream erupted from Keith's lips. Blood instantly began flowing, drenching his shirt almost right away. Keith gripped the wound, pressing down to keep the blood from escaping. Red soon covered his fingers, warm and sticky. His tears streamed down his cheeks and spit dripped from his chin. He could barely think. He didn't even have time to register the fact that his father had shoved the iron poker under the fake logs a few minutes beforehand before the red hot tip of the iron fireplace poker entered his scope of vision. There was no time for him to react before the metal pressed against his cheek. 

Silence enveloped the world for a split second that felt like eons before Keith screeched, mouth wide open and eyes blown. White spread across his vision for a few moments as he sat rigid with pain. His skin sizzled. He shoved his father away from him, suddenly full of adrenaline. He bolted out of the front door, stumbling, not registering the rain hitting his skin, he sprinted into the forest that surrounded their house. 

Panting, he plunged through the trees and underbrush. The brambles and thorns grappled at Keith's ankles. Broken sticks and rocks slashed up the bottoms of his feet. The lower branches of the trees scraped at his upper body, tearing off the bandages that covered his arms and reopening the self-inflicted wounds decorating his skin. His clothes were soaked through with cold rain and blood, but he didn't notice as he burst out of the edge of the woods. He skidded to a halt on the sidewalk, whipping his head around a few times before he took off again down a road that seemed vaguely familiar. 

He slipped and fell multiple times, scratching up his elbows, face, palms, and knees. Broken glass cut his feet, but the adrenaline still pulsed through his body as he ran full tilt to a location he didn't know. 

Soon enough, he arrived at the place he'd been searching for. Bloody, wet, crying, and covered in leaves, he reached up with a shaking hand to ring the doorbell. As the adrenaline wore off, the pain hit him like a tidal wave, almost enough to bring him crashing to his knees. Keith caught himself on the railing of the steps, but his head swam. He could feel his heart ricocheting off his ribs and he heard the blood rushing in his ears. His breath came out in ragged gasps. He began to shiver, goosebumps rising on his skin. 

The door opened, flooding the front steps with light. Lit up from behind, Lance's silhouette stood in the doorway. His face contorted into one of surprise as his eyes landed on the bloodied omega. 

"Oh, my God. Keith?" Lance breathed, ushering the smaller boy into his house. "W-what happened?"

"I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't know where else to go!" Keith hiccuped, staggering into the front hall. His feet burned with every step. "P-please don't be mad..."

"I'm not mad. C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up," Lance noticed the blood pooling at Keith's feet. "Here," Lance carefully scooped Keith up into his arms and kicked the door shut before bringing the trembling omega to the bathroom. "My sister is here. She's in school to be a nurse, so she'll fix you right up, okay? For now, I'll get a warm bath going for you." Keith was set down on the toilet. He reluctantly released his hold on Lance's neck. 

Keith nodded, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to warm himself up. "I-I'm sorry... I d-don't mean to b-be a burden," His teeth chattered as he spoke, voice raw. 

"It's okay. I promise. You're not being a burden," Lance's voice was hard. He kept his hand under the water, making sure the temperature suited the shivering omega. 

Keith remained silent, looking away. He didn't believe what Lance said, but he wasn't going to risk getting in trouble for arguing. 

"The water's warm now. Let the bath fill up and then you can hop in. I'll get Ronnie to come down and clean you up. I just did laundry. The clothes should still be warm," Lance offered, turning to leave the room. 

Without thinking, Keith flung out an arm, grabbing the hem of Lance's shirt. "N-no! Stay... Please." 

"Okay," Lance agreed, shocked at the sudden outburst. He sat on the edge of the tub, stretching his long legs out before him. 

"Could you turn around?" Keith whispered, nervous about getting undressed in front of Lance. He had no idea what might happen if Lance saw him naked. Lance was a teenage alpha. Keith had been told multiple times to keep his distance from teen alphas by Shiro, but Keith doubted Lance would do anything to him. He'd said as much the morning before. 

"Sure. I need to go get Veronica, anyway. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" Lance stood up again, looking down at the omega. 

"Okay. Thank you, Lance... Really," Keith managed a small smile as Lance left the room.

"You're welcome, Keith," Lance replied, grinning back before he turned to retrieve his sister. 

Slowly, Keith began to undress, wincing as the cloth brushed against the open wounds. Forgetting about the glass stuck in his feet, he rose. Yelping, he fell to the floor. His knees hit the tile, making the scrapes on his skin burn. He pushed himself up using the edge of the tub as support. Carefully, he eased himself down into the warm water, allowing the water to soothe him. Sighing, he lowered himself into the bath, closing his eyes. 

"In here," He heard Lance's voice from the doorway. Soft footsteps entered the room and Keith opened his eyes. Lance hung by the door as his sister stepped forward. She had the same skin tone as Lance. Her eyes were big and brown. They had a gentle light to them that reminded Keith of melted chocolate. Her hair fell in ringlets to just above her jawline. Her glasses framed her eyes as she looked down at Keith. 

"Hmm... That cut on your shoulder doesn't seem to need stitches, which is good. I don't think you need any stitches, so no hospital trip," Veronica concluded, leaning over to examine Keith's body more closely. "Your ribs... There's bruising there... Do you mind if I touch you?" 

"Ah... Um, go ahead..." Keith muttered, not meeting her gaze. He couldn't help but tense as he watched Veronica move.

Veronica reached out and ran her slender fingers along Keith's sides, pressing down gently every once in a while. Keith winced every time she pushed down. "How bad does it hurt? On a scale of one to ten," She clarified. 

"Ugh... F-four... I-I've had broken ribs before..." Keith groaned, gritting his teeth. "It's not as bad as that. B-but it's worse than getting kicked in the shins..." 

"Hmm... They don't feel broken, but I don't recommend doing anything too strenuous for a week or so," The kind omega smiled sweetly as she leaned back on her knees.  

"What?! No! I-I need to practice for regionals!" Keith protested, sitting forward abruptly. He immediately regretted moving so quickly, as pain shot through his body. 

"I'm sorry, Keith. But if you want them to heal quickly you can't play soccer," Veronica sympathized. 

"And Keith, it's fine. Regionals aren't for a couple more weeks. You're already outstanding. Taking a break from practice is okay," Lance pitched in, walking closer to the bathtub. Keith brought his knees up to his chest to hide his body, his anxiety spiking. 

"Lance, you don't understand! Soccer is my life!" Keith cried, tears shining in his eyes. "I-I can't go home! Shiro works all the time! And I don't have friends!" Keith began to sob, burying his face in his hands. The water had turned a light pinkish brown from the blood and dirt. 

Veronica cleared her throat and stood up, deciding that this should be a moment between just Lance and Keith. "Come get me when you're ready for being patched up," She whispered, padding out of the room and silently shutting the door behind her. 

"What do you mean?" Lance took his sister's place on the floor, leaning against the edge of the tub and resting his chin on his palm.

"I don't have friends, Lance!" Keith repeated, curling up tighter. 

"Yes, you do. You have me, Allura, Hunk, Pidge... That Lotor guy..." Lance mentioned. "Everyone on the soccer team. You have friends, but you don't know it."

"Y-you consider me a friend?" Keith finally raised his head, sniffling. 

"Well, yeah. We've been talking online for months. You know everything about me and I know everything about you. So yes. You are my friend," Lance replied, gazing fondly at Keith with his blue eyes. 

"R-really?" Keith squeaked, wiping at his eyes. 

"Yes," Lance smiled, dipping his fingers in the water and slowly trailing them through the water. "Wash out your hair and then I'll get Veronica to patch you up, m'kay?" 

Keith nodded, smiling a little bit. He watched as Lance stood up to go and get him a change of clothes. He rested his head on his knees, sighing softly. He couldn't deny the feelings he had for Lance, but he didn't know how to act upon them. Even though he knew Lance liked him back, he still had no idea what would happen. He desperately wanted to be held by the alpha. He wanted the alpha to stroke his hair and kiss him and cuddle with him and tell him it would be okay. But harsh thoughts still pushed their way to the front of his mind. Because how could someone as perfect as Lance like someone as broken as him? 

((I'm sorry for such a late update! I was unable to get on a computer because of... Issues. Anyway, I'm back and I will try to get the next chapter up soon! Thank you for all the support! I can't believe that I'm one of the top ten in the Klance tag! 2.5k views, too? I'm so thankful for all of you for continuing to support me. Oh, and happy Easter to those who celebrate it! - Wolfie))