A/N: Hello Cats and Kittens. About time I poured some fresh blood into my Blade: Trinity stories. You can all thank House M.D. for this particular one. It's just a singular chapter story so indulge me please and leave some nice reviews. Dedicated in specifics to Elleon, for lightly threatening me and forcing me to come back to this world I love. Enjoy sweetie. Just as well, the rest of you are welcomed to lose yourself as well.

Till the quill meets the ink again...

McFadden-

Playing Doctor

King was wearing down a hole in the already threadbare carpet in the medical room where his partner for the better half of 4 years was laid out, attached to lines leading to machines and tubes attached to more tubes. Abby lay there, still now after another spell of nightmares that she couldn't wake up from. After a gruesome mistake made by Caulder, Abby ended up being literally torn up by a pack of renegade vampires before King could get there. When he had caught up with them, they paid dearly for what they did. That was little more than a week ago. Abby's vitals had peaked and descended night after night since then. But perhaps the worse night of King's life was when she went into a coma with little chance, according to Dash, of coming out of it. Both he and Caulder thought it would be best to restrict King from the med-room for a few days while they ran some thorough tests and tried to make her outcome less grim. It wouldn't have been good for him mentally, to see her in a state like that. So when Dash informed King after he returned from a small hunt this evening that, although she wasn't awake still, he could go see Abby, it meant one of two things. Either she was doing significantly better. Or she was going to die before the night was out and King was to go and say his last goodbyes.

Looking at her now, she seemed like a pale and peaceful angel. Still beautiful, even with all the dark bruising and shadowy circles under her closed eyes. He hated to look at her.

"God dammit Abigail..."

He ran a tired hand over his face, rubbing his beard and staring holes into her, willing her eyes to open for him. King had never been really good when it came to channeling his pain, and now was no exception. The last time he held out on hope, it had gotten him right into her arms, even though he was too weak to fight off anyone, he still knew a good thing when he felt it, and her touch was what healed him and made him a man again. If only that could work in her favor this time...

"I'm not good with these things Whistler. You know that, so why are you putting me through it again?"

He felt guilty for what he said the instant it came from his lips. Truthfully, the pain from the massacre a year ago was still fresh in his mind, but having Abby there with him helped lessen the sting a little bit. Now that her life was in jeopardy, he felt as though he was relapsing and his horrible nightmares were happening all over again. And just as before, he was powerless to stop it.

Her form jerked painfully, causing King to fly to her side. From the rapid movement of her eyes underneath their lids, he knew she was having another nightmaric episode. As much as he didn't want to watch it, he didn't want to leave her either, so he stayed. She moaned in pain as her fist clenched at her sides and one hand went rogue, flying up and hitting herself in the head with another scream, bit back by her hoarse throat. King quickly grabbed her hand and put it to her side, anchoring it to the bed and hushing her with soft and soothing sounds.

"C'mon Abby, fight it...just don't fight yourself in there."

Her body went lax and she went mute as though nothing just happened. King rested his forehead against her battered knuckles, placing a kiss on them lightly in his frustration. Wanting nothing more than to scream. He began to list the endless scroll of things that were fucked up in his life, hoping that, if there was a God, he would cut him some slack.

King was back to pacing near the bed shortly thereafter. Berating himself, God, and anything, other than Abby, that he could think of. His complaints lasted a good half hour before a scratchy voice interrupted his train of thought.

"I'm going to charge you by the hour for this..."

King wasn't sure if his ears weren't playing a cruel trick on him, or that he'd finally gone mad. But he looked to the bed to see the sheets moving. He wasn't aware that Abby was awake, let alone that she'd actually been listening to his little piss and moan diatribe. He stopped his pacing and excitedly rolled up a chair next to her bedside. Finally, he'd be able to talk with his partner instead of to her. He was beyond happy and relieved that she had woken up. Abby breathed deeply and opened her eyes. The cut near her temple was still caked with dried blood. Apparently, it had bled from being aggravated during her fitful sleep. Wincing, she groaned as the dull ache of turning slightly went through her whole body. Nonetheless, it was nothing she hadn't felt ten times worse. Besides, she wanted to see King's face. It had like forever since she had seen his face. His voice came out small and uncertain.

"I was afraid you weren't going to make it Kiddo."

Abby's face washed in sadness as she looked over at her cohort. He hasn't been sleeping. He was unkempt. Even his meticulous facial hair was overgrown. She pressed her lips together, studying him, then she gave him a crooked grin.

"It's going to take a lot more than that to kill me. Although, I'm willing to bet if I had to listen to you complain for much longer, I probably would've died of boredom."

King looked pointed at her and replied dryly.

"Thanks for your reciprocal concern Abs."

King looked away momentarily when his mind got thick with too many thoughts that he didn't want in his head. If anything, he was desperate to keep this conversation as light as possible, due to what he had gone through in the recent days with her up and down condition. Without pretension, Abby frail wrist lifted up from its resting spot under her cheek and came in contact with the side of King's face, traveling listlessly down his neck, and then returning to her side. King felt all the comfort and concern he was searching for in that touch. Bringing his wrist to her, she kissed it lightly on the tender skin. Taking a breath, he looked down at her and waggled his eyebrows goofily.

"Can I get you anything?"

Abby closed her eyes again, leaning back into the pillows with a languid smile.

"Mmm...wine."

King chuckled lightly.

"No can do Sweetpea. I want you to relax, which is what the morphine drip is for. Consequently, it's the same reason I'm putting a big No-No on the alcohol. Wouldn't want you going into another coma. Not yet anyway..."

He watched the humor flicker in her eyes then die away as she turned to glance out the small window at the other end of the bed. Their hazel color was crystalline with deep thought. It was times like these that he wished he could crawl into her brain to figure out what caught her attention so acutely. Whatever it was, he could at least deem it serious from the look on her face.

"King, it's alright to think about death."

To say he was a little frightened by this off-handed comment would be an understatement. He wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him that it was okay, or herself. But he hadn't the slightest clue as to why she said it. Maybe it was laced from the past, the loss of their friends and family, the many near-death experiences the both of them had...he didn't know. Before he could delve too deep in that thought, she faced him again. The fog was then visibly lifted and the smile came back to her eyes as she waved it away physically with her hand. Clearing his throat, King spoke in a cheerier disposition.

"So...what's on the agenda for Miss Whistler tonight?"

Abby shifted more to her side. She looked as though she were about to speak when she stopped and a puzzled look came over her.

"What day is it today?"

Somewhere, that struck a sad chord inside King. He remembered vividly when his days ran into one another while under the captive eye of Danica. His voice betrayed him with its gravelly tenor.

"It's a Tuesday Abby."

A bright smile formed on her lips and baffled him. What would cause such a happy smile to come from such bruised lips? Immediately, she looked ten times better. Taking notice of her friend's confusion, Abby laughed in her mind. Eyeing him playfully, another smile unraveled onto her mouth. She bit her lip against it breaking into a full grin and asked diminutively.

"What?"

King raised both eyebrows at her. Placing his hands on his narrow hips, he looked at her skeptically. He knew full well that she wasn't naive.

"What, what? What do you mean, what? Care to tell me why you look like you've just won the lottery over the simple knowledge that it's a Tuesday?"

Switching subjects so fast, King almost got whiplash from the change, Abby rubbed her throat idly.

"Can I have something to drink or is it too soon for that?"

King sighed. He knew that would happen. She always dodged him in matters like these. He said wearyingly.

"Abby..."

She nearly laughed at his frustration and countered with a mock berating tone of her own.

"King..."

She looked at him with those eyes and he knew it was going nowhere. Somehow, she always got the better of him. He was a loser once again.

"No, it's not too soon. I'll be right back..."

Chiding himself and giving in he stepped out of the med-room and went upstairs to the kitchen. Abby smiled as she followed his body out of the door. If it was a Tuesday, that meant she'd been out for almost a week. Poor guy. She thought back briefly to what she overheard while he thought she was still asleep. He had been fighting with his conscious over the fact that she might not have woken up. He spoke of living and growing old without her, and how it was an existence he didn't want to bear. Without her, his vision of perfect wasn't there anymore. His hope for normalcy, or as close as he could get to it, would die if she did. Of course, as soon as she made it known to him that she was lucid, he clammed up and didn't speak on anything more than placing his fear of losing her for a moment and putting it lightly in a joking form. But, she could always tell when his jokes were fear-based, so she decided to let this one go until he came to her about it. Which, he would, eventually. And just like in her thoughts, King appeared at her bedside minutes later with a tray of assorted things and a big wine glass filled with a dark purple liquid.

King could see her immediate gratitude for this by the way her hand lingered on his arm as she was handed the tray. He wiped his hand on the back of his khakis and smirked like an impish little boy.

"It's not wine, but it's the best I could manage. There's only so many grapes in the Hideout. Crushed them myself though. For extra flavor..."

He shuffled his feet lightly on the concrete floor for emphasis. Mildly disgusted, Abby looked at him leerily over the rim over her glass.

"Liar..."

Grape juice was better than nothing at the moment. She just wanted to drink something, rather than having it stuffed through her veins via I..V. Her throat was sore and her tongue was cottony with dry-mouth. Despite her upbeat behavior, King could tell how tired she was. He could see the energy draining from her as she laid there. Within the hour, she'd be asleep again. And again, he'd be curled up on the couch pulled close to her bed just in case she woke up in the middle of the night and needed him.

Bringing the tray to her lap, Abby looked over her choices of what to eat. There was a small cup of cherry jello, always a staple at hospitals and apparently the rules were no different for the med-room in the Hideout. Next to that, a military sectioned plate of toast and jelly, some crackers and a bowl of chicken broth. King's voice piped up.

"I wasn't sure what your stomach would handle, so I decided that it would be best to take it easy on heavy foods."

Abby grabbed his hand and pulled him down so that he was sitting next to her on the bed.

"Thank you Hannibal."

He smiled softly to himself. Abby rarely ever used his first name, but when she did, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck tingle, in a good way. He watched her hold his hand again, liking the contact with her. She kissed his wrist once more and looked down again at her tray. King nudged her as gently as he could without hurting her until she looked at him. He gave a pointed look to her and then to his wrist.

"Hey, quit that...or I might start to like it."

Abby laughed lightly and offered him her jello cup.

"Want to join me for dinner?"

King genuinely smiled and settled back into the pillows with her and propping his feet on the bed..

"I supposed I'd be willing to give up my date night with the X-Box for this."

Abby smiled sarcastically.

"Well. I'm honored to be held up on a higher pedestal than that graphics-spewing piece of plastic."

King looked at her as though she spoke of blasphemy and covered her mouth with his hand.

"Shh...keep your voice down, She'll hear you. Lucille has a very fragile personality."

Abby licked his palm causing him to quickly withdraw his hand from her mouth, and wipe his hand on his shirt. What is it with video games? She crooked her brow at him and spoke before taking another heavy sip of grape juice.

"She's not the only one..."

She caught the faint curl of a smile on his lips before he retorted.

"Bite me."

Abby raised her eyebrows.

"Where?"

King laughed and offered her his hand.

"Right there."

He pointed to his wrist and Abby gave it a once over before bringing it to her mouth and biting down easily. This surprised the hell out of King. Where did this playful mood come from? Not that he cared or minded it at all, he was more curious to know what brought it on.

"Wow, didn't think that would actually happen."

It was Abby's turn to laugh.

"Well I've been asleep for a while, I needed to do something to a man."

King smiled at her strange antics.

"So you do that?"

She shrugged.

"What can I say? I must like you..."

This made him chuckle and smile smugly, folding his arms over his chest and lifting his chin up high.

"Naturally..."

Abby rolled her eyes as King proceeded to tear the lid off of his jello while she chewed on toast. He went on to give her a play by play on 6 little fanged teenaged fucks he'd happen to stumble upon earlier. That was no challenge for King, that was merely practice. When he mention the word time in a sentence Abby went rigid.

"What time is it?"

Checking his watch, King replied.

"Ten minutes to 9."

She hurriedly reached across him for the remote to the television, nearly knocking over her crackers in the process. King stared at the woman with a strange eye. She looked as though her excitement was going to get the better of her and she'd jump out of the bed. Instead, she just got comfortable again, moving her tray to the small bedside table and nuzzling up close to King's warmth. He just blinked in confusion. Hadn't he seen this kind of behavior in 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers?'

"Uhh...Abby? As much as I'm enjoying this lovely warm and fuzzy moment...What was that all about?"

She pressed her hand to his mouth without looking so that she could get silence.

"Shh..."

That was all he got in return as she clicked the tv on, intensely watching the colorful images dancing across the plasma screen. Soon, he heard the familiar song of "Teardrop" by Massive Arrack. It was one of the songs Abby seemed to listen to on repeat in recent weeks. Ahh...now he knew why Tuesdays were so important, let alone that song.

He has forgotten her newest obsession, House M.D., If it was possible for a man to get jealous of a television show, that was definitely the one that was going to do it. Forget about Abby's fight zone. When she watched this show, she went some place much deeper than that. No one could get through to her during that time slot. He remembered a night months ago where they were out, in the middle of a fight with some vamps and she realized that she was missing her show.Man, did she make them pay for that. He had never seen her so set on killing them as fast as she could.

Watching it now, he still failed to see her lure to the show. Bur, deciding to be a good boy, he zipped his mouth and waited to question her during a sacred 3 minute commercial break. When an ad for Monistat came on, Abby was still staring at the screen thoughtfully and before King could speak, she beat him to it.

"God I hope you look like that when you get older..."

Her voice was slightly dreamy and threw him off. Then the realization dawned on him. A Cheshire cat grin snuck up on his face.

So that's why you watch the show... You have to hots for the Doctor!"

He saw the faint blush creep onto her still all too pale cheeks. He was right! Oh the small amount of joy from guessing ran through his body. Abby turned a sharp eye in his direction, warning him not to speak.

"Another word to anyone and you'll be the one limping around here with a cane."

King smiled cheekily.

"I'd make it look sexier..."

She turned her view back to the television.

"Not possible."

He barely caught her quiet retort as the show picked back up and she fell into silence once more. This rime, King made a half-assed attempt to pat attention to the show. Trying to make himself see what Abby found so intriguing about the man, the only thing he could gather was the fact that he was just as damaged as she was. As he was too, for that matter... During a particularly tense scene, he felt Abby slide into the groove of his arm. Her hands found their way languidly holding onto his body, causing him to respond by tightening his arm around her. Ten minutes later, another program break allowed them too speak. Abby looked over.

"He reminds me so much of you."

King quirked an eyebrow.

"How?"

Abby took a deep breath and began. With each trait she emphasized, she stroked his hair and he closed his eyes against it, purring like a little kitten.

"Well...He's what I imagine you'll be like in twenty years. He's acerbic, sarcastic, bitter about the world around him. Slightly damaged, and addicted to Vicoden. Face it King, that's going to be you someday."

King snorted, although he didn't object. Because she was probably right.

"Tell me about his more redeeming qualities Abigail."

She smiled at him.

"He always does what his gut tells him is right, no matter how unethical it may seem to the outside world. The reason he's detached isn't because he could care less about anyone, but because he cares too much. His eyes are gorgeous, but they're nothing like yours. Your eyes just kill me. There's also the voice to consider. He sounds; Exactly. Like. You."

This made King smile. He growled into her ear before stealing a kiss below her ear, causing her to bire her lip against a smile.

"Not only that. He's got that bum leg with the scar."

He looked at her as though she was out of her mind.

"You like that?"

She smirked impishly and shrugged. King kept his eye on her, expecting a good answer to come from this. She offered him the plain and simple truth

I think it's sexy."

He huffed.

"You would..."

She peered at him through her lashes and pulled down the shoulder of one of King's stretched out tees that she was in, to reveal a linear scar, jagged, and running across her skin. His eyes strayed over to view the old, small wound. A story behind it that he would never forget because he had put it there when he was going through detox. He hadn't meant to break the skin, but she held onto him during his fit and beared the pain. Considering it all a formality when it was over. She had told him that it was the only scar she had that she'd never give back. And now she was looking up at him with a rhetorical question in her eyes.

"You don't find this sexy?"

He was caught.

"Touche..."

She chuckled and King laid his head beside her, knowing from the sound of her drifting laughter that her energy was indeed spent. She was out light a light, just in time for the credits to roll. He just wrapped her up around him and waited patiently until she woke up again.