Chapter Text
"Are we there yet?"
"About twenty minutes out, Madame Forger."
It was a little past seven-thirty; Jeeves had been driving for an hour and a half. Anya had slept through most of it, waking up to find herself far closer to Damian than she had remembered being.
"Mm… cool…"
Thanks to the city lights, any good stargazing was going to have to happen far out from Berlint. Thus, a long drive starting before the sun had even set—which gave Anya plenty of time to take a nap so she could stay awake longer once the stars were out.
Speaking of, Anya could barely wait for the sun to set for a variety of reasons.
Firstly, looking at the stars. Stars are pretty! Anya could still remember the first time she saw the stars, getting smuggled out of the lab for a precious few hours, only to be thrown back in because–
Secondly, Damian very obviously had something to give her. He had a package in his jacket pocket, and he was being more secretive than normal—going out of his way to do this on a new moon.
Thirdly, once the sun set, she'd get her telepathy back.
Contrary to popular belief (at least among the select few who knew about it), Anya was not completely without telepathy during new moons.
Thanks to her epic hero backstory traumatic upbringing, Anya had a pair of sensors embedded in her skull to detect electromagnetic fields. They appeared not unlike radio antennas, although short enough that Anya was fully capable of hiding them under twin buns. The sensors each read the strength and direction of electromagnetic fields, then ran a current from one "antenna" to the other, through her brain.
Electromagnetic fields could be created by a wide variety of things. Any time current ran through a wire, an electromagnetic field was produced. Anya could sense TV remotes (she knew which couch cushion to look under), hidden security cameras (she'd flip off any she noticed), microwave ovens (you thought the auditory hum was annoying?), radio broadcasts (she's still learning how to tune in to Bondman with her mind), the earth (she didn't realize her innate knowledge of which way is north wasn't normal until Damian pointed it out), x-rays (the extremely high frequency had a tendency to knock her unconscious) and lightning (very painful).
Put simply, she was getting electrocuted at various degrees of intensity every hour of every day.
Most importantly for Anya, however, was that she could sense the electromagnetic field created by neurons when they fire.
Anya's 'telepathy' was simply the ability to interpret these shocks as thoughts. That was what she was unable to do for one day each month. And Anya hated that day, because she didn't get any peace and quiet. Her only reprieve from other people's thoughts took the form of a series of shocks that made no sense to her and simply hurt.
Meaning that, although Anya didn't currently know what Damian was thinking, she did know that his thoughts were painfully intense as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"Sy-on…" Anya whined. "Think quieter, you're giving me a headache."
"Sorry," Damian whispered, and the incomprehensible numb buzz in Anya's head faded away almost immediately.
"Thanks…" Anya murmured, snuggling closer to him, and fell asleep.
"The sunset is really pretty."
It was slightly past eight. Damian and Anya were lying on a blanket, perched at the top of a grassy hill in the middle of nowhere.
"Yeah…" Damian murmured, very much not looking at the horizon.
She's so pretty. For the next half-hour, I can think about her all I want and she won't know.
So pretty. So so so so so pretty.
He watched the sunset through the reflection in her eyes.
How did I get this lucky?
"Hey, Sy-on?"
She's beautiful.
"Sy-onnnnnn~"
Damian was knocked out of his admiration by a slap across his cheek. "Hey! What was that for?"
"You've got thirty minutes to surprise me before I'll know what you're hiding. Are you going to wait until the last second, or…"
"You're so impatient."
"No, I'm Anya."
Damian let out a sigh, sitting up to riffle through the backpack (mostly of snacks) that he brought with him. He withdrew a bouquet he'd thrown together himself earlier today, because he could never find a florist that sold the flower he was looking for, excluding the one Anya worked at—which would ruin the surprise. "Here. Flowers."
"Dandelions!" Anya gasped. "They're so pretty…"
I think as far as flowers go, they're an ugly weed. But she likes them…
Looking at his girlfriend burying her nose in the yellow blooms, Damian smiled.
I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Anya placed the delicate bouquet (that would without a doubt wilt within a day) between her crossed legs. Taking one of the flowers, she slipped it into Damian's hair.
"Hmm, not quite right," she muttered, taking the flower back and placing the stem between her teeth for safe keeping while she ran her fingers through his hair.
Before he knew what he was doing, his lips had met Anya's—dandelion stem between them.
Anya pulled away with a giggle. "Stop it, not while I'm concentrating," Anya muttered around the dandelion. "Gotta get your hair right so it'll hold up the flower."
"But when you're working with a flower in your mouth, it's just, so…"
Anya responded by plucking the head off the flower and putting it in her mouth, chewing it happily as she continued to comb through his hair.
She's so weird. I love her.
Within ten minutes, Anya had given up trying to get dandelions to stay in his hair, instead having made him a flower crown, snacking on the remaining flowers.
"Hey, Anya?"
She hummed in acknowledgement, eyes on the horizon.
"Can I brush your hair?"
"Mhm." Anya's hands moved up to the top of her head, loosening the cone-shaped hair clips and pocketing them, leaving a pair of pink buns behind.
Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your hair is? Damian thought, forgetting for a second she wouldn't hear it. Instead, he just elected to say one word as he undid her buns:
"Pretty."
Anya let out a sigh as her hair cascaded down to the middle of her back, and another as Damian started running his fingers through the pink locks, separating strands to prevent them from tangling around her antennae.
It didn’t take long for Damian’s hand to accidentally brush up against them. "Damnit!” he gasped in pain as he pulled his hand away. “I forgot those are charged!"
"You're a wimp.” Anya snorted. “My brain's touching them all the time, and do you see me wincing?"
No, he thought. And that's not a good thing. Anya shouldn't have to get used to constant suffering thanks to what those monsters did to her.
Damian sighed in an attempt to let go of his anger, lest he pull too hard as he ran a brush through Anya's hair.
He could see why she liked the sunset.
It was a truly beautiful sight, the only thing in his view prettier and pinker than the sky being Anya's hair.
Okay, now that's just cheesy. Shut up, internal monologue, before Anya hears your stupid comparisons.
I suppose that's what this is for, Damian thought as he rifled through his bag, locating his gift for Anya.
A headband he had custom made for her.
From the outside, it appeared to be made of a deep green crystal that matched her eyes. At its core, however, was a band of silver, with two slots cut out to fit her antennae.
Pulling all of Anya's hair back, he slipped the headband behind her ears and onto her head.
"Sy-on?" She jolted in surprise, her hand flying to the top of her head and feeling around. "Did you just–" Anya gasped, turning around to look at Damian. "Turn off my telepathy?"
He nodded.
"You mean I can actually go through a new moon without getting shocked constantly?"
"I worked with your uncle to design it. The silver should direct the current between your antennae, bypassing your brain, and the jadeite insulates it so it won't burn your head or shock anyone touching it."
She carefully lifted the headband an inch off her head, experimentally bringing it back down.
"Woah… can't wait to experience a thunderstorm without hurting…"
Damian quickly found himself knocked to the ground in a hug.
"I love you, Sy-on."
"Love you too, Peanut."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the two teenagers stayed intertwined on the ground, staring up at the sky.
"Y'know," Anya said through a mouthful of peanuts. "I think I should be able to hear your thoughts by now."
"You can't?" I guess it's working.
"Nope." She popped the 'p'. Whatcha thinkin' about?"
"How beautiful the starlight is."
Anya smiled.
"Hey, Peanut?"
Anya hummed in acknowledgement, eyes still focused on the stars.
"Happy birthday."
"It's not my birthday," she chuckled.
"It's the closest thing you have to one, if you ask me."
"My legal birthday is–"
"I asked your father when you were adopted," Damian interrupted. "So we could celebrate your eight years as a Forger. But the twenty-eighth of July isn't a new moon, so surprising you was off the table."
"So you went for the nearest one?" Anya asked with confusion.
"That’d be next month, dummy." Damian squeezed her hand in his gently. "I went to your uncle. He gave me a different date that might be important to you."
Although he couldn't see her face, he knew the gears were turning in Anya's head as she tried to work out the significance.
"As of today, you've been a free woman for nine years."
"I… I have? Huh." When Damian turned his head to look at Anya's face, an unreadable expression was in her eyes. “It feels so long ago, like I can barely remember it. But at the same time, it– it…”
“You feel like you’re still there?”
She sighed. “I used to never remember a thing, but now with the investigation into Project Apple and all, memories keep coming back.”
“Oh…” Damian put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“What? No. They’re happy memories. Like, Mom teaching Kassie how to pick locks so she could sneak around the lab.” Anya smiled with nostalgia. “All the pranks Zahra and Sam would pull on Ari… Layla threw a fork once so hard it got stuck in a dude’s arm, and I’m not even sure where she got the fork, but the Whitecoats were sooo mad. Or that time Livvy was going to puke because of everything they were injecting her with, but she held it in long enough so she could throw up into a scientist’s eyes.”
Those are happy memories?
Anya’s smile collapsed into a sob. “Why am I the one who gets to be free? Is it just luck?” She wiped the tears away from her eyes. “It’s bad luck, then. The only subject to escape is the one who’s a coward.”
“You’re not a coward–”
“I’m scared, Damian!” Anya shouted. “Scared that if I try to speak up about what happened, they’ll find me. You said it yourself. I’ve been free for nine years. And I’ve been sitting on my ass this whole time, knowing my sisters are still enslaved. Nine years! Just under the false hope I’ll make it to ten."
"What's– what's that supposed to mean?!"
"There’s an investor behind the Project who’s met me! And he definitely recognized me as– as Subject Seven."
"Huh? Why didn’t you tell me?” Damian half-shouted at her, before adding in a lower voice, “or, like, the cops?"
"And get taken back to the lab in an instant?” Anya snapped. “I didn’t tell you because, uh, I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“Anya, I care about you. I’m going to worry about you.”
“You don’t need to worry. The people who need to know know, but I…” Anya wiped away more tears. “I really am a coward. I waited years to tell anyone anything. Even when I know it’s just a matter of time until they decide they want me back." She rolled onto her side on the blanket, wrapping her arms around Damian and burying her face in his chest. "I guess I'll just have to make the best use of my time until then."
Damian reached into her hair and pulled the headband away, thinking directly at her.
Don't. Don't say stuff like that.
"But–"
No. I won't let them get you.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Sy-on."
"I can keep this one. My parents think you're great. They're the most powerful people in the country. There's no way in hell those monsters would have the guts to kidnap you, and there's no way in hell my father would let it slide if they did."
As Anya wordlessly looked up into his eyes, Damian realized he had never seen her wear an expression quite like the one she wore then. Melancholic, yes, but most of all… apologetic?
"I just hope you're right."
"Do you have a favorite?" Damian asked, slightly past midnight.
"You see that one?" Anya pointed north. "Uh, no. Two stars to the left of the one you're thinking about. Yeah! That one!"
"What about it?"
"That's Polaris. Technically, it's three stars, but you can't tell that with just your eyes. If you stay still and watch all the stars, all night long, you'll see them move through the sky. Except Polaris. It's not moving one bit. Well, not from our perspective at least. It's directly above the north pole."
"Why's it your favorite?"
"Well, it was actually my sister's favorite. Astronomy was always her thing. I think she liked Polaris because it represents stability, y'know? Nothing was stable in the lab, but at least there was a star that didn't move."
"You could– see the stars in the lab?"
"No. Not very often, at least. Didn't stop her from sneaking to the only window whenever she could, though. Getting in trouble was worth it to her." Anya sobbed despite having a slight smile. "I hope she's doing okay now."
Anya…
"Sorry for bringing the mood down."
Please don't apologize. You know I'm always here if you want to rant, right?
"I'm just worried." Anya sighed. "The investigation’s been stalling for months now. It's not great for my sense of hope, you know?"
"Something's bound to turn up."
"What if it's too late? What if I never see any of my sisters again?"
"It won't be. I fully expect to meet them one day. Hope I can make a good first impression."
"I think as far as my twins go, one will probably hate you," Anya ignored Damian's indignant yell, "and the other will be too distracted befriending Evelyn—damn astronomy nerds. Although… I bet she'll diss Evelyn's favorite star for being a boring choice. Proxima Centauri isn't even visible in Ostania!" Anya smiled wistfully. "But I'm basing all that off personalities from nine years ago. People can really change."
"Truly amazing sisters-in-law I get to look forward to," Damian said with a touch of sarcasm.
"In-laws?" She laughed. "Are you proposing to me?"
"What? I, uh, I, well–"
"Sure, I'll marry you, Sy-on."
"That's not what I was saying!"
"But it's what you were thinking. Don't deny it—I know you've had daydreams about our wedding."
Sometimes, Damian really hated dating a telepath.
"Aw, you don't hate me that much, do you?"
“Well of course I do.”
Not at all.
"Yay!"
A streak of light flashed across the sky, eliciting a gasp from Anya.
"Look, Sy-on! A shooting star!"
Made a wish?
"Yeah."
I wish that Anya's wish comes true.
"When they say you can't tell anyone the wish or it won't come true, does that include telepathy?"
I guess we'll never know, having the same wish and all.
According to Damian's watch, it was a little past three.
About thirty minutes ago, Anya had closed her eyes, saying she'd keep watching the stars by reading his mind.
She's such a loud snorer.
Damian laid a blanket over Anya's sleeping form.
It'd be a shame to wake her.
Damian slipped under the blanket, facing Anya as he set a pillow under his head.
I suppose I can stay here all night.
“Sy-on’s a big ole softie…” Anya muttered in her sleep, earning a smile from Damian.
The view is really pretty.