A Light Gone Out

Thaal Sinestro opened his yellow eyes as he drifted out of sleep. He lay on his stomach, sheets up to his waist. His uniform was gone from him, though his ring remained where it was, a calm green glow always gently emanating from it.

Dawn had not yet reached the horizon, though the sky was growing with the oncoming light. The sturdy walls of the room were solid save for a large window, which let in the approaching dawn. But even in a windowless room Sinestro would not have needed his sight to know he was not alone in the bed.

Abin Sur lay on his side, violet back facing his fellow Lantern. From the steady rise and fall of the Ungaran’s unclothed ribs, he was clearly still asleep. Green Lanterns took advantage of the opportunity to sleep if they were tired. After all, emergencies did not announce future arrivals, nor did they allow time for sleep when they finally occurred.

Still, Thaal Sinestro could not resist. He lifted a hand to the body only a foot away from him and spread his palm over his friend and comrade’s back, just where a heart lay beating. Abin’s breathing made a very small hitch, and he squirmed in half sleep. Sinestro felt the slightest shift in the other’s heart rate. It pleased him to feel those signs of life.

Abin’s body tensed for only a moment, then relaxed: an attempt at stretching his muscles. He turned over to face his former student, feeling the other’s hand pull away as he moved. A small smirk marked his face for half of a second.

“Being wakeful does not warrant that you interrupt others in their sleep.”

“Always the teacher,” Sinestro remarked slyly.

The Ungaran allowed himself a small chuckle, but the amusement in his expression vanished as quickly as it had made itself known. He glanced aside as though lost in thought. Sinestro considered staying silent, but finally gave way to voicing his thoughts.

“Trouble.” It was not a question. He recognized the other’s expression.

Abin hummed a quiet affirmative. So keenly had his senses been tuned over years as a Lantern that he could sense the signal to the ring before it so much as trembled on his hand.

“Something is going to happen,” he said plainly. “I can feel it.”

Sinestro rolled onto his back and shut his eyes, focusing, trying to locate that source of danger his mentor could already sense. He felt the shift of the bed as Abin sat up. Green light faintly permeated the blackness of his vision as his mentor’s uniform covered once naked violet flesh. When Sinestro turned his head and opened his eyes, the other was standing, facing the open window, powerful form silhouetted in the oncoming sunrise.

“Shall I accompany you?” he asked. Abin Sur turned slightly as he answered.

“Rest. You never know when your own sector will require your protection.”

And he was off. The Ungaran Lantern was in the air, floating through the window. Still his eyes met with those of his Korugaran friend, and he smiled before he was gone in a speed barely sensed by Sinestro’s eyes. A green haze seemed to linger for a split second where the figure once was.

Sinestro closed his eyes again, but he found himself unable to return to sleep. He felt strangely ill at ease, and pondered that perhaps he was finally feeling what Abin Sur had sensed only moments before.

*