He'd only wanted a drink of water.

A measly glass of cool refreshing water after he'd woken parched from a nightmare.

That was all he had wanted.

Instead Lance had walked in to find Muxis dead to the world at the kitchen table, surrounded by empty bottles of what Lance could only assume was beer.

"Mux?"

He didn't stir, and Lance placed a gentle hand to his wrist, noting his steady pulse.

Slowly, Lance filled his glass with water and sat down at the kitchen table. He couldn't really leave him there alone, and it wasn't like Lance would be able to fall asleep again, anyway.

Not after he'd watched half of the resistance fall, after Blue had given the location of base away.

The door slid open and Lance looked up as Matt stepped in, nose wrinkling at the smell of alcohol.

"What in the—" he broke off, catching sight of the odd duo. "...oh."

Matt stared at Muxis for a moment, before bringing a hand up to run through his tangled hair.

"I wonder what happened this time." he mused, peering into the assortment of bottles and scooping the empty ones up into his arms. He trudged to the bin and tossed them in, not caring for the crash they made.

"What was it last time?" Lance asked, setting his empty glass down and resting his arms on the table.

"He lost a good friend in a fight shortly before you arrived," Matt said. He lifted the Galra's head, retrieving the bottle poking out from underneath him. "Muxis saw it happen. Kind of blamed himself for it."

Lance nodded. He knew the feeling all too well.

"You look tired, kid." Matt noted, gaze flicking to the dark rings under Lance's eyes. "Why are you up?"

"Why are you up?" Lance countered, dropping his head down onto his arms.

The silence that answered Lance was deafening. He lifted his head just enough to see, finding Matt had taken Lance's glass and retreated to the bench again. He pulled his own one and was about to fill it, before he paused and glanced back to the table.

He gave a muffled "fuck it" and left the glass on the bench, returning and dropping himself into a chair. He pulled one of the remaining bottles towards him, tilting his head back and taking a large swig. Lance blinked, pulling himself up again and sitting straighter in his chair.

"I thought you hated—"

"Muxis is an alcoholic and I don't condone how he allows the younger members on this ship to drink," Matt interrupted, nose wrinkling as he looked over to the hunkering Galra. "But that doesn't answer my question. Why are you up?"

Lance found himself fiddling with the cuff of his jacket, refusing to meet Matt's eyes.

"I just needed a drink, that's all..." he muttered, folding and unfolding the cuff. He glanced up for a moment, to find Matt with a raised eyebrow.

"... Nightmare." He said finally, and Matt's gaze softened in understanding.

"Well, I could really do with a drinking buddy right about now, my usual one's unconscious." He jabbed a thumb at Muxis, sliding the bottle across the table.

Lance looked at him in confusion. "You were against this a couple of days ago." He stated flatly.

"And right now, I'm not. Don't question it."

"Fluffy's really letting himself go," a voice called from the doorway, and Lance turned to find Roy leaning against the frame.

"How long have you been there?" Matt complained, lifting the bottle to his lips again.

"Long enough." She replied, shifting her weight and walking into the room. Olly, as always, was with her, but for the first time Lance had ever seen her, she was behind Roy, looking miserable.

Roy reached past Lance's shoulder and picked up the bottle, moving to a spare seat at the table. She made sure there was one next to her, and Olly sat down there, leaning over to rest her head on Roy's shoulder.

"Was the interrogation that bad?" Matt wondered aloud.

"No shit."

Lance jumped in his seat, staring over at Muxis who had been dead to the world only a few minutes ago. The others seemed unaffected, as if this was a regular occurrence.

"Sorry son, didn't mean to scare you." Muxis said, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing.

Roy shook her head in disbelief, grabbing her bottle and taking a sip.

It was silent at the table, although it wasn't uncomfortable. They were merely waiting. For what, Lance wasn't sure, but it didn't really matter.

Muxis was the first to speak.

"Are you absolutely sure her real name was Therra?"

Lance blinked at the question, shooting a glance over to Olly and Roy. "How many people know?" he asked lowly.

Roy shrugged. "You, me, Olly, Mux and Fluffy here, plus Kelaan for safety reasons, Mik – obviously – and Vi. I think that's it."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Muxis repeated, voice strained.

"Yes, I'm certain." It was Olly's first words since they had joined the table, and she said them so dull and flat that Lance almost didn't recognise her voice.

It was silent again, the only sound being the clinking of glass as bottles made contact with the table.

Muxis broke the silence again.

"I think she might be mine."

"Well, yeah, of course," Lance said, raising an eyebrow as Muxis reached for another bottle. "She's Galra."

"Lance," Matt said. "That's not what he meant."

"Pfft, what else can he—" Lance broke off, eyes widening as realisation hit him. "Oh."

"Yes," Muxis agreed. "Oh."

"How can you be sure? Is Therra not like, a super common Galra name?"

"Only one I've ever heard of." He gave a humourless laugh, dragging a bottle closer. It happened to be Matt's who whacked him over the head and pulled it back towards him.

"What about her sister?" Roy said quietly, seeming to already know the answer.

Muxis frowned, and Roy held out her drink to him. He grabbed it, taking a swig before answering. "She's the right age to be mine."

Lance pursed his lips, distracted from the conversation. He recalled what Matt had said earlier, about Muxis being an alcoholic.

He seemed to have a history with alcoholic father figures, didn't he?

The thought caused Lance's heart to plummet. He couldn't let history repeat itself. He didn't want a repeat of last time. He had to help.

Lance pushed himself up from the bench, taking the bottles Muxis had claimed – plus Matt's to prevent him from grabbing that one – and pouring both down the sink. He tried not to wince at the kicked puppy expression Muxis gave him as he did so.

"You can't drown your problems in alcohol, it doesn't work." Lance said, trying to keep his head from spiralling down a dark path. He couldn't afford for that to happen. Not here.

"Lance, your depression is tangible again." Olly groaned, lifting her head from Roy's shoulder and reaching out to grab a bottle out of the reach of Muxis. Lance mentally kicked himself for missing one, but didn't make an attempt to grab it, instead dropping into his seat again.

Tangible?

No, it was none of his damn business. Just like his depression was none of Olly's business. Lance was surprised by the sudden anger that was blossoming in his chest, but he didn't push it down.

Olly's tired face suddenly morphed into an expression of shock, the bottle in her hand smashing to the floor.

"Olly?" Roy turned to her companion, brow creased in concern.

Olly stared at her hands with wide eyes, and Lance's anger turned to overwhelming concern and fear. What was wrong? Was she okay?

Olly fell from her chair, Roy too late to catch her. She made a thud as she hit the floor, thankfully away from the broken glass. Everyone at the table jumped up to help, shouting as a collective.

"Olly!"