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Summary
He was awake. He didn't quite remember where he was, why he was in a glass egg, or what happened to his shoes, but he could remember the pain, sharp and clear and everywhere, and a voice, desperate and thin, telling him to stay.
'Lance?'
He looked at the boy to his right, squinting at his unfamiliar face and losing himself in his lilac eyes. He cleared his throat.
'What in the quiznack is a Lance?'
