Chapter Text
They were servicing a husband and wife in tandem, occasionally switching partners to keep things interesting. Right now Lapis was riding the man, while Raven’s face was buried between his wife’s legs. The plush bedroom was filled with the sounds of pleasure, moans and grunts and gasps. The man’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy, the purity of which he’d never known before. That was why people paid such high prices for an hour with the Starlight Twins.
Without pausing his rhythm Lapis reached down to brush the man’s cheek curiously, waiting for the peak, trying to draw it out. He loved to see the elemental desire, all thoughts and energies reduced to a single need. It was a profound moment, the universe freezing into perfect clarity all around him just for an instant, a connection forged between him and this man, whom he had never seen before and now would never forget.
Lapis suspected he would not be quickly forgotten, either.
They climaxed, almost in synch, a flare of energy transferring from Lapis to the man. He was a local financier, not especially attractive or kind, and intelligent only in the ways of his business. But he’d had a brilliant idea for an anniversary present for his wife—sharing her own moment with Raven just inches away—and now there was a bit of starlight in him, forever, though after a while it would fade until no one but the twins could recognize it.
Lapis tumbled to the bed beside the man, both panting. Such activity might be unwise or impossible for a man the banker’s age, normally, but again, that was why Lapis and Raven were so highly sought after—for an hour, they could make all things safe and possible. The man was dazed, staring up at the ceiling, and Lapis could hear the woman crying behind him, a cathartic release of emotion.
Quietly he slid off the bed, nudging the wife closer to her husband while Raven gathered up their clothes. Checking the time—wouldn’t want to short anyone of their hour—they slipped through a door into a smaller chamber and from there to a bathroom.
They showered briskly in a large stall with room for two, washing the scent of their customers off them. Raven moved with some stiffness and Lapis often glanced back to check on her, the striped bruises down her back raising an unfamiliar stab of fury every time he saw them. Finally he turned and embraced her, careful not to pressure her back as he slid his hands over her hips and belly.
“Are you alright?” he murmured in her ear. “Did you…?” His hand traveled downward in offer.
She caught and trapped it. “Later,” she replied, and leaned back to kiss his cheek. “I’m tired now. Do we have another appointment?”
“No.” He nuzzled her hair, just enjoying the feel of her in his arms, her smell and sound. “Back to the gaming floor. Are you hungry?”
“Maybe I’ll eat something small,” she conceded. The bruises would heal—they looked days old, but had only been acquired yesterday—if she had proper rest and food, but rest at least was in short supply around here.
Lapis pulled away, tugging lightly on her hips. “Kneel and I’ll washing your hair,” he suggested. She had more of it than he did, and he loved the feeling of the silky strands through his fingers.
“He’ll be waiting for us,” she warned, but knelt anyway.
“I know.” He didn’t take as long as he usually did washing her hair, since they were still on the clock. Not for much longer, he hoped, but there was no point in saying that aloud, she was thinking the same thing, but with more pessimism. The word had been put out, now they had to wait.
They finished washing and Lapis helped his sister back up, kissing her forehead as he wiped some water away from her eyes. Her fingernails scratched playfully at his ribs, making him smile. The most important thing was that they had each other—the rest was just details.
Though it was better not to antagonize their master further and they dried and dressed quickly, Lapis helping Raven with her hair again as she applied her make-up. They had the routine down by now but he never found it boring.
With a final kiss and nod of determination, Lapis opened another door and they stepped through it hand in hand, into a hallway that quickly turned busy—magicians and dancers hurried by in their costumes, chased by crew in headsets or assistants carrying props. Another few turns and the twins opened a security door, depositing them on the main floor of the gaming hall, a chaotic blur of motion, light, and sound. The crowd was thick tonight, aristocrats in glittering jewelry mixing with whoever could pay the entrance fee, servers circulating with free drinks.
They strolled through the VIP area first, making sure their master saw them. He nodded but didn’t summon them over, so they made their own path, smiling and nodding at the privileged customers, most of whom had had an hour or two with them already. Conversation tended to dry up once they’d shared such intimate moments, the twins found, as if discussing the weather and the price of drinks was unbearably mundane once someone had felt their starlight glow. Which was perfectly alright with Lapis and Raven, who went back to the main floor, letting themselves be seen and whispered about, walking advertisements.
“Hey, hey, Starlight!” called a drunken man, staggering up to embrace/lean on Raven. This happened a lot; Lapis expertly slipped under the man’s other arm so he wouldn’t knock her down. He had a lewd proposition for her, which also happened a lot, and Lapis caught the eye of a security man who was already hurrying over as Raven laughed ingratiatingly, her flashing blue eyes promising the man that all his (rather commonplace) fantasies could come true, for the right price.
“Okay, buddy, let’s take a break,” said the security man, removing the tipsy guest from the twins. Lapis straightened Raven’s hairdo a bit and they moved on.
They parted ways as she slid over to a knot of mostly male politicians, and he glided over to their mostly-female spouses, charming and effortless with their smiles and small talk. It wasn’t hard to give people what they wanted, when they projected it so loudly; and it was satisfying, to slide in and pretend so completely, knowing that everything real was safe and protected, where these people could never touch it.
A hand slid around his upper arm, not squeezing but holding, and Lapis looked over with some surprise, then up into the face of a stranger. He was tall, with dark hair, high cheekbones, a deliberate scruff, and blue eyes that burned with the heat of a forge. “Excuse me,” he said, his tone very serious. “May I speak to you for a moment?” He nodded to a nearby alcove.
Reflexively Lapis located his sister, still dazzling the politicians, then nodded at the man—who, rather surprisingly, then let him go, instead of taking the opportunity to handle him further. Lapis couldn’t get a read on him, either, which was intriguing; whatever his desires he didn’t broadcast them like most, the sign of a disciplined mind.
They stopped around the corner, where the noise was a little quieter and the light a little brighter, the man staying at a respectful distance, hands in the pockets of his expensive suit. “I’m interested in buying you,” he opened forthrightly. “What’s a fair price to offer?”
“My sister, too,” Lapis checked, slightly confused but enjoying the unfamiliar situation.
“Yes, of course,” the man assured him. “You are looking for a new master, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Lapis confirmed.
Raven slipped to his side, her hands clasped over his shoulder and his arm automatically around her waist. “There’s few who could afford us,” she pointed out, “and we know them all.” They did not know him.
A tiny smirk played on his lips. “I hate parties,” he excused.
“Are you in the trade?” Lapis asked.
“No, I’m a private citizen,” the man replied. “An industrialist. I have an estate on the forest moon, but I spend most of my time traveling. I don’t want protracted negotiations—what’s a price I can offer your master that he’ll accept right away?”
Lapis chuckled at the sheer novelty of it. “A million units,” he suggested cheekily, an outrageous sum. This stranger was a wall of confidence and daring, which was refreshing, whether or not he could back it up.
He did not share the twins’ amusement and approached slowly, his gaze flickering over them in assessment. He reached out to touch Raven’s arm, gently, with slight pressure to encourage her to turn around, as if he wanted to see all sides. Lapis did not sense maliciousness in him but kept his hands on his sister anyway, ready to pull her aside.
The man trailed a hand down the collar of her high-necked gown, to her shoulder, then pressed firmly at her back, hitting several of the bruises under the cloth and making her gasp. “I’ve been here several nights,” he informed them coolly, “and your dresses were always backless before.” He started to step back, his point about the disadvantages of their current situation made, but Lapis grabbed his hand, now intent on finding out the truth.
“You’re sincere,” he realized, mildly astonished.
“Very.” The man let his fingers curl around Lapis’s for a moment, eyes blazing before he let go. “I want you for my personal entertainment, and to help with my business.”
“You’re an element wielder,” Raven noted, having sensed this through her twin’s contact with him.
“Metal,” the man confirmed. “That’s my business.”
Lapis nodded slowly; a man with the rare talent of sensing and manipulating metal could make a lucrative business of extracting and selling it, though obviously delegation was a little difficult. He didn’t need to look at Raven to see that she was thinking this could be their perfect opportunity.
“Three-fifty,” he advised thoughtfully. “Our master recently told someone he would offer us at one-forty each.”
“Not that we would ever be sold separately,” Raven added fiercely, her nails digging slightly into Lapis’s shoulder.
“No,” he agreed, rubbing her hip. Three hundred fifty units for the pair would be a generous offer, perhaps enough to avoid the haggling as this man wished.
He nodded once, not finding the sum too high. “Pack your bags,” he advised. “I leave tomorrow morning on the Iron Cauldron. Bring whatever you like, I have a large ship and we’re headed for the Outer Belt.” That area was known for its metal-rich asteroids, but few ships bothered with such a long voyage.
The twins could say nothing in response, because it wasn’t really up to them, especially not with such speed; so the man merely acknowledged them, and left. There was a long silence as they stared after him, melting into the crowd. “He does not lack confidence, does he?” Raven finally commented dryly.
Lapis laughed, releasing some tension he hadn’t realized had built up. “No, he does not,” he agreed. He turned to his sister and kissed her, cupping her cheeks. “Off-world,” he pointed out, with some excitement, in between kisses. “Sailing among the stars. Personal entertainment only.” His kisses grew more passionate.
Raven turned her head so his lips slid along her cheeks, jaw, ear. “A voyage that long? We’ll be servicing the whole crew,” she predicted.
Lapis chuckled and pulled her closer. “Still an improvement,” he murmured in her ear. “He’s not vicious.”
“Neither was Tynor when we started,” she reminded him darkly.
A throat cleared behind them, one of the floor supervisors—their absence had been noticed. Lapis stepped back to survey his sister. “Sorry, you’ll have to touch up your make-up,” he told her regretfully, trying to wipe up the smudges he’d caused.
She licked her thumb and tried to remove some of the lip stain from his face, which was not entirely successful. As much as she feared that it could all go wrong—it was so unlikely to go right—she couldn’t help the flutter of excitement that said this might be the last time they had to do this. “Five minutes,” she assured the supervisor, as they headed to separate restrooms to clean up.
**
Erik Lehnsherr, as in, “that b-----d upstart Erik Lehnsherr,” was waiting for them outside the ramp of his ship the next morning, when Tynor’s servant drove them up in a cart. That was all Lapis had managed to learn about his new master in the intervening time. He did not react to the black eye Lapis was sporting, or to the fact that Raven was lying down in the back of the cart; any response would have been reported back gleefully to Tynor, who would now have to live with disappointment.
“Azazel,” Lehnsherr said calmly, and a man—who was red—walked down the ramp to the cart.
Lapis reached in to pick up his sister. “I’ll carry her,” he told Azazel.
The man shrugged. “I’ll get your bags.”
Lapis walked up to Lehnsherr, presenting himself and his sister, and he jerked his head silently, indicating they should go inside, so Lapis carried her on up the ramp. A woman met them at the top, dressed stylishly in a short black skirt and tall boots. “I’m Angel,” she introduced cheerfully, laying a professional hand on Raven to check her eyes.
“You’re a doctor,” Lapis surmised. They didn’t encounter doctors much.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “Bring her this way.”
The hallway was close and industrial; far more interesting was the tattoo shown off by Angel’s backless top, which looked vaguely like a huge pair of dragonfly wings. Only there was something not very tattoo-like about the marks—they seemed more natural than that. Even in a large gaming hall on the capital planet Lapis rarely saw aliens—he suspected security kept them out, on Tynor’s orders. Mr. Lehnsherr apparently saw things differently when it came to his crew, which should be interesting.
Angel led him through a door into a small med bay, just a couple of tables, on which Lapis laid his sister down. Lights above her started flashing in alarm and Angel switched them off with annoyance. She pulled out an instrument. “Do you know her regen setting?”
“One,” Lapis shrugged. She gave him a skeptical look but turned the dial all the way down to the lightest level. “She’ll heal in a day or so without it,” he assured Angel, from whom he felt a sincere concern. “I’ll help her.”
“Well, as I am the doctor, I’d like to fix something,” Angel insisted, troubled by Raven’s treatment.
“Fix his eye,” Lehnsherr directed from the doorway, and Angel came around the bed to aim the instrument at Lapis’s face. Blue light and warmth suffused his face for a long moment, and when it stopped, the pain he’d banished to a far corner of his mind had vanished. Finding her treatment successful, Angel went back to work on Raven.
Lehnsherr approached and gently turned Lapis’s face to him, surveying the result. “A parting gift from your former master?” he guessed.
“He found your note discourteous,” Lapis informed him, without rancor. Lehnsherr acknowledged the point.
“Did you get any medical records for them?” Angel asked. “My database is coming up anomalous.” Lapis supposed that described them very well.
“I was sent something, but sadly the file was corrupted,” Lehnsherr replied dryly. Tynor was really a very petty man, despite his material success. “Sean and Darwin are trying to piece it back together.”
“Well, until then, if you guys have any medical issues, tell me about them,” Angel emphasized to Lapis. “Allergies, for example?”
He shook his head, pleased by her concern. “We just heal on our own,” he repeated. “With proper food and rest.” He glanced at Lehnsherr. “That’s part of the point.” Some people’s desires had a rather violent quality to them—many people’s, actually—and the twins could handle that the way few others could. His new master did not look like he was anticipating this feature, however.
Azazel stuck his head in. “Everything’s loaded, boss.”
“Close it up,” Lehnsherr ordered. “Let’s get out of here.”
Angel started strapping Raven to the bed in preparation for takeoff. “May I stay here?” Lapis asked Lehnsherr, who was moving towards the door.
“No,” he denied. “Come with me. If you can leave her.” The last part seemed genuine and not sarcasm, so Lapis squeezed his sister’s hand and promised he’d be back soon with new information. Then he followed Lehnsherr out the door and across the hall to what appeared to be a very rudimentary bridge—as in, two stations and a couple random chairs. “Strap yourself in,” Lehnsherr directed.
Lapis did so. Azazel came in from a different door and settled on Lehnsherr’s other side. “Ready for takeoff,” reported the young man at the helm.
“Go,” Lehnsherr allowed, as if he couldn’t wait to be rid of this place.
They lifted off with a rumble that made Lapis glad he was belted in. “I thought you said you had a large ship,” he noted delicately.
Lehnsherr smirked slightly. “I do. This is just a transport shuttle.” Lapis nodded; for that, it was impressive. “The main ship’s in orbit, it’s too big to land.” The pilot maneuvered them deftly through the atmosphere. “Have you ever been off-world before?” Lehnsherr asked Lapis after a moment.
“Yes, my sister and I were found as young children on a desert moon in the Oberon system,” Lapis replied. Discovery was inevitable, perhaps even desired; but he looked back on those days fondly, when it was just the two of them in an ocean of sand. “We lived aboard a merchant ship for a while, then found ourselves on Corrento.” They’d been passed from master to master as their uses changed; Tynor was the one who had made them famous, however. For whatever that was worth.
“Alex,” Lehnsherr said to the pilot, “turn on the viewscreen.”
The screen at the front of the room crackled to life, revealing a velvety black sky above the planet’s fluffy white atmosphere—studded with stars that sparkled in the thousands. Lapis drew in a sharp breath as he watched them, their beauty hard and serene, but somehow welcoming for those deemed worthy. He realized Lehnsherr was looking at him. “My sister and I love stargazing,” he explained, unable to tear his eyes away. “They’re hard to see from Mussat, however.” The city that partied all day and night was far too bright to see the stars above it, and they were most in demand at night anyway.
“Some people say,” Azazel offered, “that you are bits of starlight, trapped in mortal form.” His tone, carefully, could go either way, joking or serious. Lehnsherr gave him a scoffing look and Azazel just shrugged.
"Yes, I've heard that," Lapis agreed, deliberately ambiguous. He had no idea what he and his sister were, and neither did anyone else, so might as well go with something poetic. In a universe of wonders—like fiery red Azazel—he didn’t really understand what people chose to mythologize, and what they brushed off as science.
“Alex, can we see the ship?” Lehnsherr asked, and the starscape swam until a vessel came into view, dark grey and sleek but with a certain heft, a weight in the weightlessness of space, that gave it the air of a fortress. No, a castle. “The Ironmonger,” Lehnsherr said, pride in his voice. He gazed at the ship the way Lapis had at the stars.
A general compliment would be ‘beautiful.’ But even though his new master was cagey with his emotions, Lapis sensed that particular idea would not best please him. Beauty was not the uppermost attribute he valued. “A strong ship,” Lapis described instead, trusting his instincts. “And also very safe.” The last one was a gamble; Lehnsherr seemed surprised by his choice of words, but not displeased.
“Captain Frost says we’re late,” Alex the pilot reported, a slight smirk in his tone.
Lehnsherr rolled his eyes—familiar, exasperated, but not contemptuous. He was relaxing as he neared his territory, where he felt comfortable. “Don’t even respond,” he instructed. Azazel made a little noise. “She can see we’re on our way,” he groused.
“I think we were late,” Lapis acknowledged apologetically. They had not been at their swiftest that morning. Lehnsherr dismissed this with a shrug.
The ship loomed closer, filling the viewscreen until it snapped off. They weren’t docking; they were heading for an open cargo bay, a maw of yellow light in the side of the ship. The transport shuttle was as large as many short-range cruisers Lapis had seen; that the main ship possessed a cargo bay big enough to hold it only impressed upon him its scope.
“How many crew?” Lapis asked curiously.
“About two hundred,” Lehnsherr told him, which seemed small. “Much of the ship is storage and processing facilities.” Ah. That made sense, if his specialty was remote locations—instead of hauling asteroid chunks to a refinery somewhere, they could carry a greater volume of nearly finished product.
Long runs could make a crew restless, especially those who weren’t needed until they reached their destination. Lapis wondered if Raven’s prediction was indeed correct—if Lehnsherr had just bought his crew a spectacular on-the-job perk. A closed pool of two hundred might count as ‘personal,’ compared to the gaming complex’s customer base. Lapis had his doubts, though. This did not seem the time to ask.
The ship settled with the lightest thump. “We’re down,” Alex reported. No one moved yet. “Outer door is closed. Green light.”
At that, Lehnsherr and Azazel unbuckled themselves and stood, and Lapis followed suit. “Alex Summers, my chief pilot,” Lehnsherr introduced, as the young man turned around. “Nicely done.” Alex nodded manfully at the praise, but Lapis could see how proud he was.
“Nice to meet you,” Lapis told him, bowing slightly. Physical contact was better avoided, unless someone was to be a customer, and he didn’t want to presume that yet.
“Lapis—is Starlight actually your last name?” Lehnsherr asked, interrupting his introduction.
“No, just a nickname,” he assured him. “We haven’t got a last name.” Alex nodded at him; unease mixed with fascination was easy to read on him, a common mixture in those who hadn’t sought him out.
“Azazel,” Lehnsherr added as they headed for the door. “You’ve met Angel.” The doctor had the med bay door open, maneuvering Raven out on a grav pallet.
Lapis immediately took her limp hand. “May I carry her?” he asked Angel.
“The main med bay’s pretty far,” she denied. “You can walk with us, though.”
Lapis looked to his master, waiting impatiently for the ramp to lower. “Go ahead,” Lehnsherr allowed. “Stay in the med bay until I summon you.” He huffed, and Lapis saw that at the foot of the ramp a beautiful woman waited—cold and imperious as starlight herself, dressed much like Angel in a short skirt and boots, only hers were pure white.
“You’re late,” she said immediately.
“Well, we’re here now, so go,” Lehnsherr told her with mild irritation. It seemed like their default interaction level.
She touched an earpiece. “Take us out of orbit,” she ordered. “Preset coordinates. Light it up.” The ship thrummed slightly.
“Are you related?” Lapis intuited. The moment he spoke, the woman’s mind—which had already been as near-silent as Lehnsherr’s—snapped completely shut, radiating a diamond-hard light that physically pushed Lapis back a step. "My apologies,” Lapis said quickly, letting a soothing energy flow from him. This did not relax her mind, but the scowl on her face lightened. “I should not have intruded.”
Lehnsherr was smirking, however. “My Starlight Twins,” he told the woman dryly, and she raised a perfect blond eyebrow at the prone Raven. “Captain Emma Frost.”
No fascination there, only a mild wariness—like a new pet she feared she would have to clean up after. Lapis tried not to smile at the comparison. Lehnsherr gestured for Angel to go on and Lapis followed her across the vast cargo bay, walking backwards to watch the black-clad crew pour in from another door, swarming the shuttle to unload it.
“Watch out,” Angel warned, before he hit the door. The hallway beyond was spacious and well-lit. “First time on a ship?” she guessed pleasantly.
“No, but it’s been a while,” Lapis admitted. “I’ve never been on one of this size.”
“It used to be a pleasure ship,” Angel told him. “Erik converted it, put in custom ore processing facilities. Theoretically we can go years without making port.”
“Does that happen?”
She shook her head. “The most has been a few months.” Which was still quite unusual, for a ship whose main purpose wasn’t discovery.
Angel led them to a lift—just wide enough for the grav pallet—and they were deposited on another floor, to roam through identical hallways. Everything was well-labeled, though, perhaps a legacy from when it hosted thousands of vacationers. Crew members passed them on occasion, most taking a long look before hurrying on. It made Angel uncomfortable, or she feared it would make Lapis so.
“Did people know we were coming?” Lapis asked pleasantly, trying to put her at ease. It was hard to make the twins uncomfortable.
“It’s hard to keep a secret in a small crew,” she admitted. “Erik ran the idea by the command crew a few days ago, and let us know last night he’d signed the contract. News travels quickly.”
Lapis nodded. Lehnsherr seemed very collaborative, unusual for a man of his position. Captain Frost was a strong personality, and Lapis sensed steel within Angel as well, despite her friendly demeanor. He surrounded himself with the best people for the job, even if they challenged him.
The med bay was clearly marked. “Home sweet home,” Angel announced, amused but sincere. The interior was welcoming, reassuring, quiet, and enormous, with a dozen beds in the main room and a full complement of tools and scanners. “The best,” Angel said proudly, seeing Lapis looking around. Lehnsherr also made sure his people had the tools to do their jobs well.
Angel slid the grav pallet in place over a bench, adjusting the settings of the monitor. “Janos, could you make sure those medical supplies get up here?” she requested, and a young man nodded and hurried off. She gazed at Lapis speculatively. “Could I get you in the scanner?” she requested. “I’d like to get some baseline readings, to compare to your sister.”
“Of course.” If it would help Raven—or rather Angel, who was very uncomfortable with the idea of just leaving Raven alone.
She had him lie down on a bed in another room. “Are you claustrophobic?” she asked.
“No.”
“Let me know if you want out,” she told him anyway, then slid the bed smoothly into a small chamber and shut the door at his feet. Gentle lights began to pulse around him.
“May we speak?” Lapis inquired. “Or should I be quiet?”
“Sure, we can talk,” Angel agreed, her voice tinny through the intercom. “You probably have a lot of questions.”
He didn’t think she could or would answer the most pressing ones, like about the twins’ duties on board or Lehnsherr’s temperament. But there were other things he wanted to know. “Can you explain the command structure to me?” he requested. “I would’ve though Mr. Lehnsherr the captain.”
Angel snorted, likely a reflection on Captain Frost’s forceful personality. “Erik is the owner of the ship and the company, so technically Emma works for him,” she explained. There were soft clanks in the background, as though she was moving things around as they talked. “But it’s understood that she’s in charge of the day-to-day running of the ship.”
“That must make it difficult when they disagree,” Lapis suggested carefully.
There was a smirk in Angel’s voice. “Usually one of them gives in. Actually,” she added, “as chief physician I can overrule them both on certain matters. But that never happens,” she went on quickly, not wanting Lapis to be alarmed by potential conflict. “Emma and Erik are very safety-conscious.”
“Yes, they seem so.”
“Moira’s second in command,” Angel continued, “and next is Logan, who’s the security chief. Then it’s Hank, the chief engineer. You know, I’m sure this is written down somewhere,” she worried.
“I’ll remember,” Lapis assured her. “Though I would appreciate access to any information allowed.”
“Erik didn’t put any unusual restrictions on your database access,” Angel informed him. “We have a pretty extensive collection.”
That would be nice. “What about Azazel?” he asked.
“He’s not a ranked member of the crew,” Angel described. “He’s Erik’s personal assistant. Bodyguard. It’s smart to listen to him,” she advised.
Lapis noted this. “One thing you could do for my sister”—he could feel Angel’s attention swivel to him through the wall—“is give her nutrient fluid. Intravenously, or however you prefer.” There was a database access screen on the ceiling of the chamber and he activated it. “Can you show me the available formulations?” After a moment the information appeared on his screen and he scrolled through them. “This one would work well,” he said, selecting it. “Our basic nutritional needs are very similar to humans’, except lower quantity.”
“Thanks for letting me know, I’ll set that up,” Angel promised. “You can read or watch something in there if you want.”
Lapis did not want to get involved in something right now. “How much longer do you need me in here?”
He could tell Angel had expected a much longer time. “Are you getting uncomfortable?”
“I miss my sister.” He could still feel Raven as a quiet presence at the back of his mind, but that wasn’t like being able to touch her, or sense her active thoughts.
The lights around him winked out, the door opened at his feet, and the bed he lay on slid out, Angel standing over him reassuringly. The twins were used to people thinking they were strange, or mistaking their motives; Angel at least was nice about it, and fixed a chair for him at Raven’s bedside where he could hold her hand and tell her about all the things he’d seen, the stars and the aliens and the big, strong ship. The images had already flowed from his mind to hers as he saw them, but now they had the force of memory (sometimes selective) and his conscious thoughts added on. Normally his mind buzzed with her own impressions, but at the moment it was only incoherent, disconnected pictures and sensations.
“You’re smiling,” Angel pointed out questioningly.
“She’s dreaming,” Lapis answered, watching Raven’s eyes dance under her eyelids. Angel let them be.