Private Well... I Can't Cure Stupid | Abel Denko

[Anika Tau'ri]

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S A V E​

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Tag: Abel Denko​

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A harmonious chorus of machines beeped and whirred softly around Serena as she hunched over that evening’s paperwork.​

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Despite it being a relatively slow day for her line of work, there was still plenty to get through. Diagnosis reports, assessments, treatment evaluations, test results. Plenty to keep Serena working through the night. Under the guise of giving them all a night off, she had sent the rest of her team to the party on Bovo Yagen.​

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By all accounts, it was meant to be one to remember. Given the fevered attempts from her team to convince them to join her, Serena was almost sorry she had missed out, but this was her time. When the wing was empty, when overnight patients were tucked safely and soundly in their beds, when the chorus of machines was joined by peaceful silence. It was just how she preferred it.​

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The datapad clicked happily beneath her fingers, in perfect time to the hospital around her.​

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Click. Beep. Tap. Click. Beep. Tap. Click. Beep. Ta-…​

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A sharp, piercing bell cut through the melody mercilessly. Serena winced and cast her gaze hesitantly over to the holoprojector. Please, her voice echoed in her own mind, please don’t be the holoprojector. When she finally found what she was looking for, her stomach dropped. The blinking light doused the entire right side of her desk in a blazing flame red, making the papers scattered across the metal look rather morbid.​

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Serena let out a silent sigh, stretching the muscles in her back as she withdrew from her paperwork to answer the call. Red fire was quickly replaced with the flickering blue outline of a medic, with a grim expression on his face. “We got a live one, Serena.” The young woman curled her lips up into a smile. “Well that’s good, half my job is done already.” The man had the decency to titter softly at her joke, but he clearly wasn’t in a joking mood.​

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“Chest laceration.” He continued. “Pretty nasty, we managed to get the bleeding under control but he’s gonna need some serious stitching.” Serena nodded as she slid her chair out from under the desk. “Copy that, see you in five.” The tiny blue replica of the man fizzled into nothing once more, and Serena turned to look disparagingly at the empty ward. As she scrapped her thick curls into a messy bun on top of her head, Serena reminded herself that she ought not to have been surprised.​

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This was the job. If it didn’t happen right now, it was bound to happen in an hour, or two. She just hoped whoever it was had a dammed interesting story to make up for stealing her night off.​

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[Abel Denko]

S T R U G G L E​

Tag: Serena Denko

Under normal circumstances, Abel would be normal.

When the mission field caused any sort of bodily harm, the Knight was never the sort to bark against the hands which healed him. When they said roll over, he'd do so. When they said raise his hands, he'd do so. Yet, the evening was characterized by atypical circumstances. And the hospital was the last place he wanted to be. It had taken the intervention of his peers to bring him this far - and upon arrival, the attending staff had their hands full. Why? Why was it that a full-fledged Obsidian Knight was making such a fuss when he was clearly wounded?

Because the injuries of the heart were far deeper.

This evening, on Bovo Yagen, a routine scouting operation had dug up old roots. Abel had thought this chapter of his life was long since behind him, yet the face he witnessed among the gambling crowd was too familiar. All sense of duty was momentarily shelved as he crossed the casino floor, shoving past patron and attendant alike. Decorum vanished in an instant when he happened upon the man playing at the slot machine. His dominant hand tore the vermin out of his seat and sent him spilling onto the floor. That was when all hell broke loose.

To the Confederates, this man was no one. A nothing. His offenses were lost in the mire of Hutt Space. He was effectively innocent in the eyes of the Southern Systems. Oh, but Abel knew. This man was no ordinary vermin. This man was among the very sods who had snatched his mother and father from the world of the living. This thug served the old Hutt Cartel and was one of the few who escaped Abel's retribution. For a time, Abel found his path among the Jedi. Yet, even the restraint imparted by those teachings was not enough.

The vermin, however, did not come alone.

In the ensuing chaos, the worm got away - and Abel was left with a laceration upon his chest. He didn't need to be in a hospital bed. Not when one responsible yet ran free. He was so close - but he had been too weak. Too fragile. He had to get back out there. He had to. "Let me go!" he roared against the attending nurses, who thus far had restrained him to the bed. "You've stopped the bleeding, thank you, now let me go. He's still out there. Please."

His voice cracked.
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[Anika Tau'ri]

S A V E​

Tag: Abel Denko

Serena’s lips thinned in response to the noise echoing down her once silent corridors. At first, it sounded like a child kicking up a fuss over his next vaccine, but the clinic would not open for hours yet. Then, it sounded distinctly like an animal, wailing as it attempted to claw its way free of metal walls, but animals were not permitted in the hospital.

It was only when she rounded a corner, coming face to face with the source of the noise, that she realised it was a man. A fully grown one at that.

Several orderlies and a handful of nurses were gathered around his gurney, either clinging desperately to his arm to keep him steady or rushing to tighten the straps that would do the job for them. Serena grimaced. Drunk and rowdy. The exact reason she had opted not to go to Bovo Yagen. Taking a few moments to brace herself while she was still tucked in the corner out of the way, Serena steadied herself with a deep breath. To find the energy to handle the man on the gurney, to find the hard exterior she wore when faced with a problematic patient.

She only needed a moment, and when it was over, she emerged from the corner properly, sharp heels tacking loudly against the cold tile floor. "I can't imagine you'll find or catch anyone with that kind of injury." She responded to the almost disparaging pleas of the knight laying strewn across a stained blanket. “I think we need to get you fixed up before you can go anywhere. The bleeding might have stopped for now, but unless we get you stitched up there’s no telling when it will start again.” Her confident, honied words carried loudly over the din of the surrounding staff members. Serena could see he was certainly in some amount of distress.

Besides the obvious gaping wound that was slowly soaking his robes in shades of vibrant crimson, she could read his face from a mile off.

“When I’m finished, I’m sure we can arrange you transport to wherever it is you want to go. Sound fair?” Her tone was commanding, yet somehow, it managed to be soft at the same time. In truth, she didn’t really feel like being kind or patient with him. Not only had he disturbed her evening, but he promised to be a particular difficulty simply from the way he had arrived but needs must. Serena didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she flashed her slender, blue gloved fingers at him and then motioned to the angry wound in the centre of his chest.

Coupled with the friendliest smile her painted lips could muster; it would have taken a natural born empath to tell she felt anything other than compassion for him. “Can I take a look?”​

 

[Abel Denko]

H E A L​

Tag: Serena Denko

I can't imagine you'll find or catch anyone with that kind of injury.

Above the whine of the machinery and the grunts of orderlies attempting to restrain him, a honied voice began to speak. The contradiction to his current predicament was such that his rampage against restraint paused for but an instant. It was a mistake. A tactical error. Giving ground even an inch provided an opening - and thus one of the attendants impaled his shoulder with a syringe. The was not enough to put him to sleep, but it was more than enough to quickly drain the fight out of him.

Abel struggled nonetheless, teeth gritting as his body recoiled against the medication. As each second rolled by, it became harder and harder to pull against their hands. Harder and harder to kick or to even try to sit up. Even his vision began to be impaired, the lights blurring as he glared. With but the last of his strength, he turned to see the source of the voice. A mass of bouncing curls was approaching, adorned by the tell-tale coat of a physician. This must be the boss.

When I'm finished, I'm sure we can arrange you transport to wherever it is you want to go. Sound fair? Her tone was full of authority, denoting that she knew she was in control. Abel loathed that fact. She was in his way. They were all in his way. And the more they battled here, the further the vermin got away. Despite this, she offered him a genuine smile. Her tone was sweet as honey. A gloved hand motioned towards his blood-soaked cuirass and the wound underneath. Can I take a look? she asked. His head leaned back in defeat. Even if he wanted to, his body would not even afford him the strength to raise a hand.

Even if he wanted to, the Force would not heed his call.

"You don't understand." his voice was hoarse. Partially from effort. Partially from decades of quiet suffering bubbling to the surface. What he felt in the heart was far worse than the wound upon his chest. "He took them from me, and I finally caught the fether. He took." His teeth clenched. The fingers of his dominant hand curled into a fist. A frail one at that. "I...I..."

His lips moved, as if stumbling over which words to say. But there was no way to truly express how he felt. Defeated. Weak. His head rolled back onto the pillow, gaze now fixated upon the ceiling panels. As he moved, an angry tear escaped his left eye and trailed down his face.

"Go ahead."​

 

[Anika Tau'ri]

T A L K​

Tag: Abel Denko​

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Serena hesitated. She always did there was something beyond the obvious affecting her patients. The first thing she did, before anything else, was fish into one of the pockets in her white lab coat. It only took a moment to find what she was after. Serena produced a neatly pressed square of silk and offered it out to the Knight, but his attention was elsewhere. So, she took the liberty of doing it herself.

She could feel the strain in the gathering of staff as she lent forward to dab the corner of the silk at the free-falling tears on Abel’s face. They were all waiting for him to strike her, or struggle, or something of a similar nature. However, the injection they had given him previously was starting to seep through his system. The gesture she made with the handkerchief was a small one, but hopefully, it would show him that she saw more than just his injury. When the current tears had been soaked up, she pressed the silk into Abel’s limp grasp.

Smiling quickly, her attention returned to the staff. “Let’s move him somewhere a little quieter.” Bouncing curls shifted as she nodded to the orderlies, who quickly began to move the gurney up the corridor toward Serena’s ward. It would be easier to look at him there, without the prying and curious eyes of the reception staff. Without the well-meaning but brutal actions of the orderlies. Her patient did not seem particularly comfortable with the company, and since Serena had planned to be on her own all night anyway, there was little need to have an audience.

Fortunately, the journey to the ward was so short that Serena hoped Abel would not notice the change in venue. Not only would the injection be relaxing his body, but it would also relax his mind too. Hopefully enough to make him an amicable patient.

The ward door creaked to a close on well-used hinges, shutting out the rest of the staff and leaving Serena and Abel completely alone together. The young doctor sighed once and then tugged at the hem of her coat to straighten it up. “I promise I won’t keep you long.” She said passively to the man on the gurney as she made her way over to the equipment locker. There were only a few things she needed. Bacta, a sharp needle, surgical thread and a bandage. It seemed simple for such a deep wound, but Serena wanted to try and keep from doing anything more serious.

With her things collected, she turned back round to walk to his bed, dragging a chair along with her. She placed it squarely at his side, set the equipment down on the bedside table, and cast her raven gaze at him.

“So…” The clink of sterilized metal echoed through the ward as she set up her things on the table. “How in the hell did you manage this?” Normally, people were most comfortable discussing themselves. In Serena’s experience, they liked to talk about what happened. The silly or upsetting things that lead to their current predicament. It relaxed them. It made them focus on something other than the needle.

She began with the bacta, hoping that the slight shock of cold would spur him into a torrent of speech, but Serena did not mind either way. If he spoke, she would get to listen to an interesting story. If not? She would get her night of silence after all.​

 

[Abel Denko]

H E A L​

Tag: Serena Denko

There was movement out of the corner of his eye.

For the moment, Abel paid it no mind. It was either the orderly or the doctor herself who was responsible for the action just outside of his vision. Yet, in the moment, his gaze was fixated upon the ceiling panels. There was but a shred of fury left within him. A dying ember that was quickly being smothered by the medication roiling through his veins. That ember was pride. A revulsion at the fact that he had allowed himself to be placed in such a predicament. Weakness, for one, had seen these circumstances unfold in the first place. If he had been stronger, he would have caught them. If he had been better, maybe...maybe they would not have died to begin with.

It was timely that Serena reached out with her cloth, for a second tear pooled and spilled when she caught it. She wiped, gingerly, and the Knight's eyes widened ever so slightly. It was kindness. Plain and simple. The sort of warm that cut through the ice of pain and of wrath. The gesture surprised Abel at the very least. The fact that she pressed the cloth into his hand following only added to the surprise. It was a very human thing of her to do. It was as if she cared and that he was not just the wound upon his chest. If the circumstances were different, he would have been able to express gratitude more effectively.

Rather, his fingers curled meekly about the cloth.

He laid in silence as the doctor set about directing her staff. They began to move him somewhere else. Quieter per her directive. The initial motion exaserbated the wound, but following there were no incidents. This time, Abel had enough strength left in his jaw to suppress any sort of grunt or moan that came from the sting. He held his peace, clutching the gesture, until the journey came to an end. Once concluded, she spoke again. I promise I won't keep you long. A vow coupled with the sounds of a locker being opened and closed. He wanted to remark, but there was nothing he could say. He wanted to nod, but could not find the strength to do it.

Rather, he just laid and awaited her joining him. She asked after the wound - how the hell did he manage it. Ah, now there was a tale that he had no desire to recount. No strength to recount. That is, until the cold shocked his flesh. It did not sting - but it was enough to make his eyelids pop. Clearly, something was about to begin regarding his wound. Perhaps it would be best to distract himself via talking. Using the newfound energy, he turned his head, settling his gaze upon the woman. "My parents." he began, pausing to swallow the lump in his throat. "We killed some time ago. I found one of the men responsible. Caught him in the Casino. I had him...but he got away. Had guards..."

A sigh escaped him.

"I wasn't strong enough."​

 

[Anika Tau'ri]

C O N S O L E​

Tag: Abel Denko

He was quiet for far to long. Serena was almost of the mind that he had fallen to sleep, until the cold wave of bacta spread through his nerves. The first thing she noticed were his eyes.

They were a shocking shade of sea blue. Crystal clear. At the moment, they were riddled with pain, but that didn’t make them any less beautiful. If she did not have a job to complete Serena could have honestly lost herself in them. As it was, the bacta had begun to settle in the wound. Its regenerative properties would heal the inside of the cut, where the most damage had been done, but the outside remained Serena’s responsibility.

When Abel finally began to speak, Serena found a subtle smile creeping onto her lips. There was always something satisfying about a patient opening up to her. It was one of the many things that made the job worth it. However, the topic was one that wiped the smile from her face completely. It was not alcohol that had fuelled his rage, or the subsequent struggle with her staff. It was loss. Something Serena could completely understand. She remained silent while he spoke.

The information he offered was not much, but it was enough for Serena to get a picture of his pain. The pain that was not stemming from the wound on his chest. The first words she uttered were a warning. “Sharp sting.” The tip of an injection sunk into the angry flesh around his wound. That pain would have lasted moments because the anaesthetic inside was one of the fastest Serena had ever worked with. “In my experience…” She began, as she took up the needle laced with a dark coloured thread. “Strength is relative. To a lot of things.” She placed the tip of her fingers on the start of the wound and squeezed the two halves together gently.

“You might feel some tugging.” Serena commented as she set to work. “As I was saying. Strength is relative. To your mindset at the time. To the environment. To the people surrounding you.” The only thing Abel would be able to feel from the needle was the soft pull as the thread tugged his wound closed. “Maybe you weren’t strong enough in the casino, outnumbered and surrounded by loud distracting noises. No doubt you’d had a few drinks too. To me that doesn’t sound like a very constructive place to display your strength.”

Sewing wounds closed was almost as easy as breathing. She could do it with her eyes closed. It made it easier to converse. Back in her trainee days, there was no end to the uncomfortable silence, tongue half sticking from her mouth as she threw all her concentration into her stitches. Now? It was simple. “I wouldn’t discount yourself so easily. You seem like a decent man to me. You’ll get your chance again, and I bet you it’ll be in better circumstances than this.”​

 

[Abel Denko]

H E A L I N G​

Tag: Serena Denko​

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Angel.​

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Though punctuated with warnings regarding the impending procedure, the woman attending the Jedi was...kind. Abel did not know if it was the medication roiling through his veins or not, but the tone of the woman seemed far gentler than it had been in the previous location. As the seconds rolled by, ease began to settle into his muscles. Not the artificial sort encouraged by the medicine, but true relaxation. Despite the light tug of his flesh being sewn back together, the cold of the bacta was doing its work tremendously. The majority of the agony had passed. Now there was only a cool sting, like leaving one's flesh outside in the snow for too long. This was the sort of thing that Abel could bear with ease.​

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What was harder to bear was the conversation at hand. He had revealed only a few lines of his history - a smattering of information uttered in but a breath. Yet, with those simple words came the reminders of home. She spoke of strength, in that same confident way that his father had. She was encouraging, in that gentle was that his mother was. And, amidst the lights of the room, coupled with the medication in his veins, Abel thought he was witnessing one of the visions from the bedtime stories. The gentle beings which awaited a man after death: Angel.​

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"You sound like a Jedi." he remarked - his tone noticeably lighter than before. Harboring emotion was not the path that his father nor his teacher had laid before him. Doing so would only lead to a monumental Fall. Abel did his absolute best to remind himself of this as his flesh was mended underneath her graceful hands. "Thank you." he finally said. His fingers twitched, as if intending to move or reach out - but he decided against it. Staying still, he settled for simply nodding his chin in her direction. "I owe you my life."​

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"And I don't even know your name."​

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[Anika Tau'ri]

H E A L​

Tag: Abel Denko

Time ticked by quickly when there was work to be done, be it paperwork or practical work, it always flew. It helped beyond measure that the anaesthetic seemed to be doing its job, alongside the conversation. Serena watched the tension in Abel’s muscles melt. She watched his chest relax despite the needle puncturing his chest.

Something about the quiet that followed her response made her think that she had said too much. Often her kind nature could be misconstrued as condescending. Her determination to do her best by her patients could come off as bossy. Serena had heard it all before, it hit differently for everyone. For a moment, Serena assumed Able to be the type to find it irritating. To find it degrading to have a woman like Serena advise him on a matter like strength when it seemed as though she could not lift her own bodyweight if it came down to it.

However, Abel was full of pleasant surprises. First, it was his eyes. Then, the cause of his wound, followed by the reason for his outcry. Now? It was the tone he responded in. It was almost filled with awe.

A charcoal gaze flickered up to meet the blue sea that she hoped were waiting for her. When she was faced with the soft jut of her chin, Serena found she could not contain the smile. A bashful smile that flashed the whites of her teeth and pressed dimples into her rosed cheeks, she almost looked the Lady she was born. “Serena.” She quickly drew her gaze back to the wound, back to the needle. Back to work. “And I am a Jedi.” She replied to his earlier comment, following it with a soft titter.

The drugs must have been affecting his mind a little more than she assumed. It was not harmful, but it amused her, nonetheless. Drawing close to the end of the wound, and in an effort to keep him talking, she continued. “I left home the minute I was old enough to sign up for training.” Her face seemed to glow for a moment. From the sudden recollection of the memory itself or the pride that she felt for her independence, it was not clear. “When I qualified, I discovered my connection to the force and joined the Knight’s Obsidian to help where I could. I was made a Knight not too long ago, but I think that's more of an honorary position. I'm not much of a fighter.” Serena chuckled again, this time at her own expense, but it was not unkind.

Serena once again flicked her gaze up toward Abel. Only briefly this time, as her primary focus remained on finishing up her stitches. “Are you a Jedi?” It may have seemed like a foolish question, but you could never be sure in the Confederacy. One of the many reasons Serena had been drawn to it. One could just as easily bump into a Mandalorian, or a Sith, or a grey Jedi, or something never heard of before. It was home to everyone.​

 

[Abel Denko]

R E C O V E R​

Tag: Serena Denko

The flow of time was skewed.

Though patience had been a virtue that was insisted of him during training, it was not one that came easily for the Knight. The street-born heritage was such that he could revel in instant gratification. If he did not receive the answer he wanted? He could snap a bone to make it happen. If he wanted something? He had the means and the force to acquire it. In a sense, he had abandoned one reality and replaced it with the whole opposite. When training under his mentor, Serian, patience and Light had been the foundation. Repression of the self. Peace. He may have come from the mire of Nar Shaddaa, but he was made Jedi over time.

Yet, despite the challenge of patience, Abel found that he was not feeling every second rolling by. His mind placed the blame upon his circumstances. Here he was, chest open in the hospital, with narcotics racing through his system. With each pump of his heart, the medicine was shot further and further throughout. The injection was mighty enough to lay him low - perhaps it was strong enough to make the seconds, minutes, and hours blur together. Yet, the irrational side of Abel placed the blame upon the one who had the tools in hand. Slowly. Deliberately. She weaved the line in and out of his flesh.

The tug above the cool touch of bacta was persistent.

But, despite the ceaseless rhythm of her hands, the time did not seem to be agonizing. Despite how grievously he had been injured, he was fully relaxed. Perhaps it had something - everything - to do with how the room seemed to get a touch brighter as she smiled. Serena she said. Abel half expected her to scoff at his remark of being a Jedi, and possibly confirm that she was an angel in the flesh. Alas, the total opposite occured, with a soft titter at that. And I am a Jedi she said. This fact, overall, was not a negative one - for they had something in common.

She then went on to explain the origins behind her Path. When she was old enough - he presumed by the standards of her homeworld - she signed up to determine if she was Sensitive. Then, from the Jedi she went to the Knights Obsidian. Small world. They were co-workers it seemed. The realization made a genuine smile erupt into being on his face. His mind, that irrational corner, began to think: I'll be able to see her again. Abel never thought this way. The drugs were clearly getting to him. It certainly had nothing to do with the glow that seemed to define her as she spoke. Nothing at all.

When she finished, she returned her gaze to the stitches betwixt her fingers. A question played at her lips: Are you a Jedi? "Technically. Formerly?" he began. His fingers twitched again, but this time he simply did not have the strength to move his hand. If he had, he would have done the universal sign for "so-so." "I was trained as a Jedi before coming here." To the Confederacy. "And fell in with the Knights Obsidian. Followed my brother into the Order actually." He chuckled.

"Since we're co-workers, and not doctor/patient, let me repay you for this. Caf?"

Caf? Caf? The rational side of Abel's mind recoiled as every irrational word fell from his lips. But he couldn't stop himself. For one, he didn't really even drink the stuff. Two, who the heck comes into a hospital, chest open, and asks out their doctor. Mid. Stitches. Abel Denko, that's who. If the rational part of his brain had control over motor function, he would have slapped himself.

Hard.

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[Anika Tau'ri]

S W O O N​

Tag: Abel Denko

Technically? Formerly? What did that mean? Serena did not look up from the stitches, nor did she display any confusion on her face. It was lucky she had, as Abel continued to explain himself further. “Well, I have to say I’m pleased you fell in to the Knight’s Obsidian.” Serena let out another tinkling giggle, but it was cut off a little too soon. Flirting. With a patient. While she was halfway through an uncomfortable, invasive procedure, the edge of her sleeves soaked with his blood.

It wasn’t appropriate. There was no doubt that Abel would be able to feel the sudden embarassment radiating off her either. Despite her attempts to hide it on her face, her cheeks were a dead give away. She filled the awkward silence with something that drew her back to her professional self. “If you’re willing, I’d like to give you a blood transfusion. You’ve lost a fair bit…”

Yet, when Abel spoke again, Serena, surprisingly, found it an acceptable excuse. They were co-workers. He was a Knight, she was a Knight. This was more than just a standard doctor-patient relationship. Or at least, that’s what she told herself. However, that wasn’t what she lingered on. What she found herself thinking about was a single word uttered at the end of his sentence. A single question.

At that moment, Abel was the most attractive man Serena had ever encountered. Caf was her lifeblood, as it was for most in her profession. It was 90% of the reason she had survived through her exams, and 100% of the reason why night shifts were easy. Her painted lips cracked a grin that illuminated her entire face. A grin that, for Serena, cast aside her original concerns over professionalism. “I could kiss you right now.” She said in a zestful tone. “But I’ll buy.”

If he protested, she had not heard. She had finally reached the end of his wound, and whether or not Serena could do it blindfolded, she preferred to focus on this part. She held her silence for a minute or two while the thread twisted and weaved through his skin.

“And you…” Serena’s tone trailed off as the needle finally ceased in its task. “Are done.” Leaning back from his chest, Serena stretched the muscles in her back as she inspected her work. The neat row of jet-black thread had perfectly knitted together the cavernous wound in his chest. The sun-kissed skin beneath was still puckered and tinted in various shades of red, but it looked a might better than when he came in. “Now, about that caf.” She grinned as she stood from her chair, but her hands immediately made a motion for him to stay flat on the gurney.

“Stay still, I’ll get it.” She spoke with a firmness in her tone, but it was not unkind. As though she knew that Abel would attempt it. “I don’t want you tearing my hard work minute one.” Her fingers plucked the surgical gloves from her hands and they were quickly disposed of them in a bin beside Abel’s bed. “I wouldn’t suggest caf for you though. It won’t do you any good to be hopped up on caffine with the night you’ve had. I’ll bring you something better."​

 

[Abel Denko]

TAG: Serena Denko

Ah, inner conflict.

The Knight was far too impaired due to the narcotics to perceive the embarassment. Were he in his right mind, he would have picked up on the signs. The giggle cut short. The usage of her hair to cover her expression. To catch the finite details in another was oftentimes the difference between life and death. But, in this case, Abel was already in bed with death. And the woman patiently working over him was his salvation. I'm pleased you fell into the Knights Obsidian. She had said. Before the laugh. Before the quiet.

"I'm glad I fell into this hospital." came his response. His lips curved into a tired smile - and once again, it was evident that his rationality was not steering the ship. In a sense, this was Abel as his purest self. This was Abel, stripped of walls and the demands of being on the clock. This...was what a man sounded like when his filter had been drugged into oblivion. She asked if he would be willing to accept a blood transfusion, to which the Knight simply shook his head. It took all the effort in the world to accomplish the movement. He would be fine - this would be enough. "This will be fine. I'll just...take it easy."

He didn't want to but, frankly, he couldn't even shake his head without it taking effort. He was in no shape to continue the hunt for those who had executed this parents. No shape to avenge. That battle would just have to wait for another day. He would just have to hope that he could get another chance...And as he ruminated these things, his offer to take his excessively pretty co-worker out for caf was answered. His lack of rationality was met with glee. Zest. I could kiss you right now. She saiid, grinning. Abel half-chuckled. "Please do, you'll make me feel even better." But I'll buy.

Abel didn't even make a sound of protest. She wrapped up his stitches and rose. The Knight, instinctively, attempted the beginning of sitting up - but she firmly advised to stay still. It was not an angsty tone, but one of caution. Like he didn't just have his entire torso sewn back together seconds ago. He settled back down onto the gurney as instructed. "Doctor's Orders...I could get used that." he began, amidst a sly half-chuckle. "I'll take whatever you bring. And, pinkie promise, I won't move a muscle." Pinkie Promise? What was he, twelve? Gods above.

Fortunately, he was being totally honest. He couldn't really move a muscle, even if he wanted to.

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[Anika Tau'ri]

D R I N K​

Tag: Abel Denko

Another smile. Another blush.

Serena could not recall the last time she had smiled so much during a night shift. The tops of her cheeks were aching slightly, but it was a good kind of ache. “Good!” She responded happily to his promise to remain on the bed. “I’ll hold you to that, I remember what happens when you break a pinkie promise.” The echo of a giggle was all she left in her wake as she slid out of the heavy double doors to fetch their drinks.

For some reason, the corridors seemed brighter this time around. Serena was not sure if she was imagining it, but the atmosphere seemed lighter too. Which was strange, considering the building and its purpose. It was almost as though someone had bubbled the hospital in an artificial gravity field, and then turned it right up. Each step felt as though it ought to have come down hard against the polished tile floor, but they did not. She was practically floating along the corridors toward the mess hall.

The harsh yellow spotlights flooded the mess hall with pools of bright, artificial light. Dancing through them as she weaved between the chairs reminded Serena of a late-night shuttle trip. Watching the city lights fade in and out through the window, illuminating the insides of the shuttle and then plunging them into darkness. Only this time her destination was a cup of caff, and a somewhat strange reiteration of what some would call a date waiting for her back in the ward. There was nobody behind the counter, as Serena expected. The mess hall staff all went home once the bell chimed six, lucky them.

In a short space of time, Serena was back to working her way through the maze of chairs. One hand clutching a cup of dark, sweet caff and the other wrapped around a cup of Karlini tea. She had debated for a while on what to give him, in hindsight, she would have asked what he preferred, but this would do. A little taste of her home.

The walk back to the ward seemed shorter than the walk from it, and soon Serena was pushing open the heavy doors again. Another smile broke on her rounded face when she laid eyes on Abel. Still in the exact same position she left him in. “You didn’t break your pinkie promise.” She teased as she rejoined him on the stool beside his bed. The hand with the tea stretched out. “I hope you like tea. It’s heavy on the sugar.” A personal habit of hers, oversweet everything.
​

 

[Abel Denko]

NABOO

"I'm a man of my word."

The expression was one that ordered the steps of Abel from that evening forward. The whims of the Knighthood had seen fit that, despite having earned Serena's contact details afterward...their paths just didn't cross. Abel seemed to float from sortie to sortie, only pausing to check on the affairs of the House. And, on one such check...the ailing patriarch made a request of his grandson. To align their family with another's through marriage - a time honored tradition of Naboo. Abel was a man of his word. And so he trudged upon the shores of Roon to tie a crimson bow upon a palm. The symbol that he was the suitor of House Denko. That he was a man of his word.

And then came Serena. Perhaps keeping ones words had their rewards.

In the present day, they were still a way's out from the formal vows. The families agreed that, especially given the state of the Galaxy, time should be allotted for the pair to adjust. Specifically, a month - to ensure that there were no monsters in the closet. Fair enough. But, this meant cohabitation. The first of its kind for the Obsidian Knight. Together, they'd stay at one of the Denko family estates in Lake Country. A quiet reserve where they could truly determine if this agreement would work out.

Fair enough. He was a man of his word.

On the fourth day, Abel arose first. For now they had agreed to share separate rooms until "it felt right" - and thus he descended from the guest room. Remembering her preference for tea, the Knight put on the kettle before heading into the refrigerator himself. A supply of sugar-loaded, caffeine packed energy drinks had been included - as per his demand - and he wasted no time in cracking one open. Breakfast in hand, Abel then settled at the dining room table, quietly scrolling through his datapad.

The weeks ahead weren't looking too good as far as work was concerned. His mission log was already started to fill. A fact which brought a scowl to his face.

Regardless, he was a man of his word.

Serena Denko​

 

[Anika Tau'ri]

Tag: Abel Denko​

The sweet trilling song of birds drifted in through a partially open window in Serena’s bedroom. A slight crack in the curtains let in a ray of golden light that filled the room with an angelic glow. Its focus came to rest on a silk pillow dominated by unruly chocolate brown curls.

Serena stirred. Roused by mother nature working in tandem to tell her the morning was slipping by. In her half-woken state, a sudden wave of panic swept over her.

The alarm had not gone off.

She was late for work.

This was not her room.

These were not her bedsheets.

Her eyes darted quickly to the bedside table, where they came to rest on an ornate clock ticking away in its timeless beat.

Oh. She breathed a sigh of relief, covering her face to hide her embarrassment from no one in particular. This was the fourth day she had woken thinking it was just an ordinary day. How many more mornings would be like this one before she could finally remember. Throwing back the sheets with an audible groan, Serena flung her legs off the edge of the bed.

The cool floor pressing up against her feet was a welcoming sensation. She took a cursory glance at the clock once again and breathed a second sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t four o’clock in the morning this time. Serena had been working the early morning shift for a few years now, and habits were often hard broken. Doctors habits were triply so. Today, however, it was ten in the morning. The latest Serena had ever slept in since starting med school.

She was finally convinced to stand when the distinct sound of a whistling kettle trickled into her ears.

After the second day, she had conceded to the fact that pyjamas were okay to wear in Abel’s company. It was always comfier tucking into breakfast wearing something a lot more forgiving than a pencil skirt, and he had made an extremely valid argument for the point. “If we’re going to get married…” Serena glanced the attire over in the mirror once and cracked a smile to herself before heading to the door. It was a short trip from her room to the kitchen, but she still felt the need to skip the last few steps.

“Good morning!” She announced to the room, heading straight for the bubbling kettle. This was the first morning he had gotten up before her. It was incredibly sweet of him to remember her tea. As she reached up into a cupboard to fetch a mug, she glanced back at the man sitting by the table. Her lips worked themselves up into a partial grin. “Caffeine for breakfast, huh?"​