At last, I am back! Thank for (most) of you guys' patience in getting this next chapter out, especially with the last one ending in a cliffhanger. For those who don't check my Tumblr, I've been studying to retake my state boards to go up a rank in my field, so most of my free time has been spent studying. But I'm coming to the end of my study program, so I should start having more time to write again. But, I think you'll find this new chapter worth the wait.
Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece. I only own my original additions. This story is for entertainment purposes only.
Warnings: Scary Imagery, Disturbing Imagery & Theme, Graphic Imagery
... The Abyss Also Looks Into You.
The sea was quiet and mellow, something extraordinarily rare on the Grand Line. Abel peered down at her reflection in the water, her undistorted visage gazing back. The water was so smooth today. Glass-like. It made her want to reach out and touch it to see if it felt as solid as it looked. But she wasn't Robin, so unless she wanted to take a dip herself, she'd have to pass. Tilting her head back, Abel's eyes traced the cloudless sky, following the arc till she reached the billowy white sails of their ship, pulled taut from the wind. Abel sighed, finding some small enjoyment in the peaceful, still atmosphere. So rare on this ship, to be sure. She should enjoy it to the fullest. Perhaps a nap was in order. She did feel a little tired, for some reason.
With a slight grin, Abel made for the women's cabin. She paused along the way, passing Luffy seated on the deck behind the figurehead. Pausing, Abel called, "Not feeling your usual perch, Boss?"
The boy blinked, as if just realizing Abel was there. "Oh!" His eyes darted around in an expression that made Abel slightly suspicious, recognizing it as Luffy trying and failing to keep a poker face. He only made that face when he was up to something and doing a terrible job at lying about it. Noticing her raised, suspicious brow, her captain gave a boastful laugh. "You're so silly, Abel! It's too nice a day to just sit around!" Leaping up, the boy declared, "I'm gonna see if Sanji will make me a snack!" And without further ado, the boy ran off, disappearing into the galley, leaving Abel alone on the deck.
Frowning at the random behavior, Abel shrugged, brushing it aside for now. Luffy was prone to bouts of weirdness, after all. Whatever he had planned, she was sure she'd find out about it soon enough.
The cabin was quiet and dark; the perfect setting for a nap. Abel plopped down on her bed. As she bounced, she instinctively patted the bed beside her, as if motioning for someone to join her. But why would she do that? There was no one else in the room. Abel frowned to herself, blaming it on her tiredness. Shrugging the feeling off, Abel flopped back against her bed, fully intending to take a nap. This turned out to be the very wrong thing to do, as the minute her head hit the pillow, pain exploded from the back of her skull. Hissing sharply, Abel bolted upright, hand immediately flying to the back of her head. The pain throbbed insistently, pulsing in time with her heart. Her scalp was sensitive to the touch, drawing another hiss from her as her fingers delicately brushed against it. Drawing her hand back, Abel felt disquieted at the blood on her hand. What the hell? Since when could a pillow bust your skull?
No, that's not right... Abel thought. Not the pillow. Something else. She'd been hurt before. A couple of times, right? Brows creased, Abel stared unseeingly into the darkness, trying to think. Yet try as she might, Abel couldn't recall. Retrograde amnesia following a head injury was pretty common, especially for events leading right up to the injury. But if that was the case, why wasn't Chopper treating her? A good question to ask the doctor.
Frown creasing even further, Abel rubbed the blood from her fingers as she stood, all thoughts about a nap vanishing with each successive throb of pain. Her eyes briefly met those of the doll Nami kept on her bedside table. Making a mental note to have the thing "mysteriously" disappear later, Abel headed back out onto the deck.
The hunter paused at the open door, staring out in confusion at the empty deck. Where did all this fog come from? Had they traveled into a front? Come to think of it, it was feeling a bit cooler. Abel glanced around to see if Nami was about, but didn't spot her. There wasn't anyone about, actually. Suspecting that perhaps they were all congregating in the galley, and since she needed to head that way to find Chopper regardless, Abel carefully made her way across the deck and up the stairs to the galley.
Finding Sanji inside was no surprise. What was, however, was that he was the only one there. Huh... Abel thought, gingerly holding a hand to her aching head. "Did you already kick Boss out?" Abel asked, making her presence known.
Sanji turned from the sink to greet her. "Yeah. I gave him his snack and booted him out. He was being obnoxious."
Abel nodded absently-mindedly. Without going further in, she saw from the opened door that the sickbay was empty. "Where's Doc?"
Sanji frowned. The motion made Abel absently realize he wasn't smoking at the moment. "I... haven't seen him," Sanji admitted, following Abel's gaze before looking back at her.
Lightly stroking her scalp, which did little to alleviate the pain, Abel murmured, "I wonder if he's down with Sparkplug or something..."
"Maybe...?" Sanji offered, giving another clueless shrug. "They might've said something about working on something... but I wasn't really paying attention."
With a mind to go hunt down the doctor, Abel paused at the door. She frowned at Sanji, cocking her head. "Are you all right?" Earning a confused stare, she elaborated, "You seem a bit more... subdued than usual."
Sanji just gave her a smile back. "Don't be silly, Abel. I'm fine." His eyes landed on the fog rolling in from behind her. "Though maybe this weather's getting to me a bit."
A sudden, loud, painful ringing in her ears pulled a sharp wince from the hunter. The sound itself was loud enough on its own to give her a headache. In conjunctions with the one she already had, it was enough to make her bend over, clutching at her skull. Sanji was there in an instant, hovering uncertainly around her, hands close but not touching her. "Are you okay, Abel!" he asked worriedly.
The lingering pain is what made Abel snap, "What do you think I was looking for Doc in the first place for?"
As she stood, wiping the tears that collected in the corner of her eyes away, it was Sanji's turn to frown. "You should go to bed," he advised.
Abel would've shaken her head had she not feared it would've fallen off her shoulders then. Instead, she chose to clutch at her temple while dismissing, "Sleeping with a head injury is the absolute worst thing to do."
Now growing genuinely concerned, Abel hastily left their cook to climb into the belly of the ship, intent on ferreting out the doctor. She didn't want to treat a head injury on her own. Thanks to the fog, the lower level was pretty dark, but not enough that she couldn't see. Though it was very quiet. A fact that didn't sit well with Abel, as when Usopp and Chopper were together, they usually weren't quiet. Actually... Abel paused. Maybe it was just an echo of the ringing, but she could swear she heard murmuring behind her. Yet when she looked, there was no one there, despite the sound continuing. Abel pressed her hands to her ears to test if that would make it go away, but the sound continued unabated. It was like tinnitus, except the high-pitched ringing replaced with low-pitched murmuring. Like the sound was coming from inside her own head. Probably not a good sign.
Trying to tune the noise out, Abel came to Usopp's Factory. The door was closed, so she gave it a knock. Never a good idea to go barging in when Usopp was prone to working with combustibles. Abel waited a moment for a response, only to receive none. Frowning, Abel decided to forego niceties and tried the door, only to discover it was locked. Or, not so much locked as just not opening even after turning the knob. Abel shoved her shoulder into the door, thinking it might be jammed. Neither her brain nor shoulder appreciated that, and she got nothing else for her trouble.
Now concerned something had blocked the door and maybe the boys were hurt and unresponsive, Abel jolted over to her side of the wing... only to come up short. "Wha?" was all she could say as she stared blankly at an equally blank wall. A blank wall where the door to her office ought to be. Abel blinked, and then blinked again harder. Still nothing. She glanced over at Usopp's door, then hers. Still not there. Abel held one eye closed, and then the other, but that didn't help. She hoped maybe there was some weird perceptual distortion thanks to being hit in the back of the head, but that didn't seem to be the case. Even running her hands against the wall revealed nothing. She wasn't not seeing the door; there was no door.
Abel's headache came back full-force, to the point her vision started to swim a little. She pressed the meaty part of her palms into her eyes, bending over, struggling against the sudden urge to collapse to the side. She had the sensation of hot, metallic liquid trickling in the back of her jaw. Abel grit her teeth, trying to grin to combat the urge to vomit, but it looked closer to grimace. The murmuring became louder, a new tone joining them. Great, the voices in my head are multiplying, Abel thought, even now. Sarcasm really was a natural reflex at this point; she couldn't help herself. The only reason she noticed the change was because one of the "voices" suddenly had a higher pitch. It sounded angry. Good.
"What are you doing?"
The sudden, intelligible voice startled Abel, making her jump. Ignoring how it made her feel like a child, Abel peered out between her fingers, gazing down to meet her sister's eyes. Wait, that shouldn't be right. They were the same height. Abel blinked, and suddenly they were even again. Oh, no. She was actually looking up at her sister, given her slightly bent over position.
After a long moment of expectant silence, Abel's brain finally kicked in that a question had been asked of her. Considering the molten pain of spider webs racing through her skull right now, she was glad she could even still comprehend words. "Trying not to puke," she answered at length. "Am I going crazy, or has my office disappeared?"
Caine frowned, staring at the wall where the door should be. "What are you talking about, Abel?" Caine asked, as confused as her sister. "There was never anything there."
It took Abel a moment to react. When she did, she stood a little straighter, ready to turn the question of what was wrong on her sibling. Her head may be about to explode, but she wasn't crazy. Standing, however, was a bad idea, because as soon as she did Abel's stomach lurched dangerously. A hand flew to her mouth, the other wrapping around her midsection. As if that alone would hold back the tide of nausea. Immediately, Caine was hovering, hands poised outstretched like Sanji's before, just out of reach of Abel's body. "You really need to lie down and sleep," her twin urged insistently.
Sleep was the last thing on Abel's mind. Without a word or backwards glance, Abel bolted for the ladder. She'd hoped to make it to the bathroom, but only made it as far as the deck before her stomach upheaved. Her body forced her to her knees as it retched up the contents of her stomach. But given that she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten, it was mostly empty dry heaving. Abel's eyes watered as the forcible spasms wracking her body made her headache even worse, the ringing blasting in her ears. If she didn't think she had a concussion before, she certainly did now. Though, honestly, the only coherent thoughts running through her head right at that moment were, Where the fuck is Chopper? Where is anybody?
A few more moments of misery, and her stomach gradually calmed, leaving Abel hunched on the deck on her hands and knees. She panted, tears cold on her face in the foggy air. Though she hadn't vomited much, her body felt exhausted from the effort. Shakily, Abel tilted over, lying on her side on the grass. Away from any detritus, she pressed her hot face into the cold grass. She felt miserable, even worse than the bout with pneumonia. Blearily, Abel opened a single eye and swept it across the deck. Where was everyone? Not that she wanted an audience, but she hadn't exactly been quiet in her retching. It tended to make a lot of noise, yet no one had come to see what the commotion was. Not even Caine. Something was very wrong. Abel felt a pit form in her stomach. No, wait. Abel placed a hand to her sternum where the weight resided. The feeling of something very tangible resting on her chest was so real she actually had to look down to reassure herself it wasn't there. Nausea, chest pain... she wasn't having a heart attack, was she?
Struggling to her feet like a newborn fawn, Abel wobbled her way back to the cabin. She wanted to go to the bathroom, but didn't trust she could climb the ladders without giving herself another concussion. The stairs up the cabin were dicey enough, and she clung to the railing the entire way. Once in the cabin, Abel poured some of the water from the pitcher at the sink into the basin. Washing the remnants of her exertions from her face made her feel a bit more grounded and at herself. Resting heavily on her elbows with her face still over the bowl, letting the water trickle down, Abel gazed at her sorry state in the mirror. She looked pale and drawn, with dark bags under her eyes.
Not wanting to watch herself in that state, she stared at the room's reflection. Again, her eyes met the doll on Nami's bedside. Abel blinked, a moment of clarity breaking through. Nami didn't have any dolls. No one on the ship did. And even if they did, Abel would've thrown them overboard a long time ago. She was as sure of that as she was about her office existing.
Abel felt her mind start the shift back into place just as the room did. Oh, the room did actually shift in the mirror. Or, the reflection shifted? Like someone had changed the angle of the mirror despite it remaining fixed to the cabinetry. Now her reflect sat askew, causing Abel to turn her head to stare at it. Her eyes swiftly forgot that in favor of the tunnel of mirrors that had formed behind it. The back of her reflections head was in the mirror behind it, and the front of that reflection's face in the next, creating this mirror chain. As if she was peering through multiple versions of herself's reflections. It created a strange sense of vertigo that made her recovering stomach roil, but she felt more dazedly curious than anything.
It was interesting watching all the heads move in unison with her, and she suddenly had the childish urge to see if she could peer around the heads to see the end of the tunnel. Of course, that's not how mirrors work so her view was always blocked. Huffing at herself, wondering if maybe she really was losing her mind, Abel returned her posture to normal. Except... the reflections didn't. They all suddenly froze in place, no longer following her movements. A disquieting feeling bubbled up in Abel's stomach that had nothing to do with post-concussive syndrome as she peered down the hall of mirrors.
The heaviness in her chest began to increase as she saw it. There, closer to the back of the tunnel, her own face peered out from behind one of the heads, like a curious child peeking around a corner. When their eyes met, Abel watched as her own face slowly stretched into a wide, knowing grin.
Abel's eyes shot open as she sucked in a breath. Panting, gasping, her eyes darted around, not fully taking in her surroundings. Images of her own face smiling back at her with what she could only describe as gleeful psychosis was at the forefront of her mind, to the point she kept looking around for the mirror. The heaviness in her chest remained, but a tingling awareness slowly began to return to the rest of her body, until she became cognizant of the fact she was lying prone on something very soft looking up at a stone ceiling. And her head still hurt. A trilling sound at her chest eventually drew Abel's eyes to a single point, staring at a cat watching her expectantly from its perch on her sternum. Its single eye bore into her, before it reached up a paw to bat at her face. Charlie, Abel's brain finally helpfully supplied.
A high-pitched gasp once again drew Abel's attention away, toward a woman standing at the doorway. She wore a nun's habit and had dropped a bowl of water, judging by the puddle on the floor. Before Abel could formulate a coherent thought, the woman shouted something before rushing off. Again, Abel's brain told her she knew the non-Common thing she said but was refusing to properly translate. It was too busy expending its energy just catching up with what the hell was going on.
One thing she could do, at least, was address the problem with her breathing. Abel didn't like how much energy it took her to push herself up on her elbows, or how wobbly she felt doing so. It did, however, encourage Charlie to jump off her chest. He looked a bit indignant that she wasn't thanking him for trying to smother her in her sleep. Or unconsciousness, at any rate.
Her arms shook something fierce, until Abel feared she'd fall back on her head, which she knew would not be pleasant. To avoid that, she opted to roll onto her side and use her body weight to lever herself into a sitting position. Her feet hung off the side of the bed she lay on. A cursory glance told her this was probably someone's room, given the small amount of knick-knacks around. Some books, various writing instruments, and a map on the wall. Seeing the name Ravensburg on the map helped reorient Abel. Right, they weren't out at sea. They were still at Ravensburg. Her aching body filled in the other gaps a bit, telling her they weren't having a good time. The blood on the wet rag resting on the pillow where her head had been also told her as much. Raising a hand to the back of her head, Abel felt it was wet. However, the lack of any sticky red residue when she pulled her fingers back told her it was likely from water, and that the bleeding had subsided.
Abel watched in silent bemusement as Charlie reached a paw for her outstretched hand. Hooking it around her wrist, he pulled it to him, forcing it over his head. This pulled a snort and smile from the hunter at the imposed petting, but she obliged the tiny beast. Her thoughts were still jumbled, but she had the sense she owed the cat at least as much. Besides, the tangible sensation of stroking his fur helped ground her back into her body. It was soothing.
Hurried footsteps drew Abel's attention toward the door just as Father Jean barged in. Based on the sheer, visceral relief in his expression, Abel suspected he might have lost a few more hairs. The undercurrent of worry remained, permanently etched into the crow's feet around his eyes. "My child!" he gasped. How did he manage to sound both happy and scolding at the same time? Was it a priest thing? No, come to think of it, her dad could do the same thing. Maybe it was a "fatherly" thing then. Abel's rambling mind struggled to focus on what was going on around her. She could only watch detachedly as the priest hurried to her side. "You shouldn't be moving around so quickly," he chided gently, supporting her by the shoulder.
Abel was about to comment how someone couldn't be persuaded to move otherwise, when two more people unexpectedly joined them. Abel was both happy and confused to see Nami and Zoro, though she wasn't sure why she felt confused. Why wouldn't they be here? For their parts, her crewmates also managed to express dual emotions at the same time, though theirs leant more toward anger. Or at least Nami did. Zoro looked like his usual stoic self. "You're awake!" Nami exclaimed before rounding on her. "You had us worried sick!"
"Yeah..." was all Abel managed. Before she could stop herself, she added, "Why are you here?" The question confused even her. C'mon brain, keep up. Stop rattling around in there.
It amused Abel that Nami looked like she would hit her if she wasn't already injured. "Why would we not be here when Jean calls us on your transponder snail and tells us you showed up unconscious!?"
"I did?" Abel asked, drawing her gaze from Zoro hovering nearby to face the redhead. Her brows creased, searching her jumbled brain. "How? I was, I think, on the other side of the island." She felt she'd been trying to get away from this area, so why would she come back?
"What's the last thing you can remember?" Father Jean asked gently, picking up the rag to smooth down the back of Abel's hair, probably removing any excess blood.
Slouching a bit, Abel tried to take her mind back. They'd come to Ravensburg a few days ago... creepy cults... rats... paranoia... catacombs... Abel's eyes widened then as a thought shot through her. "Caine?" she asked.
"She'll be fine," Zoro answered.
Nami nodded. "Everyone else got back to the ship fine. Chopper was treating your sister and Solomon when we left." Abel allowed herself to relax upon hearing that. Nami continued, "Franky told us about you getting separated from them. We kept trying to call you, but the signal wouldn't go through."
Abel only then realized Nami held Watson in her hands, where he slept peacefully. "Yeah," she recalled. "Something was blocking the signal, I think."
"Sanji wanted to start looking for you then," Nami continued. "But we'd have no idea where to start. Then Jean calls us and said you'd just showed up here and passed out."
When Abel turned questioning eyes on the padre, he could only supply, "We heard a commotion outside. When we checked out back, we found the old walled off entrance to the catacombs destroyed and you unconscious on the rubble. You were bleeding from the head, so we brought you inside."
Abel hummed, gingerly touching the back of her head. "Some fool cracked me on the back of the head, and I think I got dropped in the same spot a few times."
"Abel!" Nami chastised for her nonchalant tone. "A head injury is no joke, especially not multiple ones!"
Ignoring the blatantly obvious statement, Abel instead asked, "How did you two get here? How'd you avoid the mob?"
"We came in the Mini Merry," Zoro answered.
Abel's eyes shifted from side to side for a moment, searching her stores of memory to check before asking, "What?"
"Franky made a small boat in memorial of Merry," Nami explained. Abel didn't comment how the navigator went a little misty-eyed. "It's big enough for a few people to fit, and it has an engine so it's pretty fast. Not as fast as the waver, but we figured we'd have to carry you back, so we'd need the space. You'll see it when we take you back."
Abel hummed, having no other response. Tilting her head, Abel looked out the window. Of course, the island was naturally dark, so that did little to tell her the time. "How long have I been out?"
"It's been a few hours since this whole debacle started," Nami replied. "Maybe an hour since you were out?" Her expression grew concerned. "Do you really not remember what happened?"
Abel shook her head slightly. "I vaguely remember the catacombs, but that's it."
The redhead huffed. "You could sound a bit more concerned!"
"Retrograde amnesia is expected following loss of consciousness, particularly for events immediately prior to unconsciousness."
Zoro snorted, crossing his arms. "She sounds normal to me."
"Can we go now?" Abel asked suddenly. She glanced toward Father Jean. "Not that it hasn't been a raging dumpster fire, but to be frank, I'm done with this island. I think you should be, too."
Rather than offended or affronted, the man smiled at Abel compassionately. "All the more reason I should stay. What can I say? I'm a stubborn old man."
Abel took in a long breath before huffing. "So, how blasphemous would it be to shanghai a priest from his own sanctuary?"
Father Jean gave a guffaw. "Of the highest order, I'm afraid. Practically sprinting there." He grinned with an almost fatherly affection before standing. "Go, child. Don't worry your head about silly old men."
"We can always drop you off at the next island," Nami offered in a remarkable show of selflessness. Was it because she was in a church? "I doubt Luffy'd mind."
"Your kindness is appreciated, but I'll be fine." It might be odd at how confident the man was, but perhaps that was the benefit of being a priest.
Turning back to the matter at hand, Zoro asked Abel, "Can you walk?"
"Let's find out." She wasn't trying to be witty. She honestly just didn't know. It took a bit of momentum for Abel to rise to her feet, and her head swam immediately. She wobbled, reached a hand out to steady herself against anything. That anything turned out to be Zoro, who let her hold onto his shoulder. Raising a hand to her swimming head, Abel said, "Let's take that as a hard 'maybe'."
Nami sighed. "She can't walk like this." She was just about to suggest it herself when Zoro beat her to the punch, kneeling so his back was to Abel. The redhead could only blink at how silently diligent the man was as Abel climbed onto his back before he hoisted up like she weighed nothing. Not that Zoro wouldn't offer to help a crewman, as she'd taken advantage of the same thing herself, but usually it involved bullying and complaining on both parties' parts. Here Abel didn't have to say a word and he eagerly complied. Nami would have to ask Abel her secret.
"Onward, noble steed," Abel quipped, affecting a posh tone while raising one arm wrapped around Zoro's neck to point forward.
"Don't make me drop you." At that time, Charlie, whom they'd forgotten about, decided to make it a cat-pile, jumping up Abel's back to climb onto Zoro as well. "Hey, hey! This isn't a taxi service!" Okay, that was more expected.
Nami thanked Father Jean again for caring for Abel before they headed out. Jean and the sister watched as the trio disappeared into the darkness, leaving the priest with an uncomfortable feeling. Something about the entire situation didn't sit well with him. How did Abel, in the state she was in, manage to break through a solid stone wall? It had definitely broken from the inside out. Not to mention at points during her unconsciousness Abel had been exhibiting strange behaviors, even for a concussion victim. There had been several times when they'd thought she was awake, as her eyes would come open, yet she remained unresponsive, merely staring at the ceiling. Or start mumbling something incoherent. He'd heard of things lurking in the catacombs, and worried for his old friend. Resolving himself, the priest decided some prayers were in order. He had no doubt Abel's friends would take care of her, but there was nothing wrong with having a little extra insurance.
Abel had promised she'd try to stay awake until they made it back to the ship, but she was finding that increasingly difficult as Zoro carted her around. Her unsolicited nap hadn't done much to restore her reserves, so she still felt miserably sick on top of having a raging headache. It didn't help that Zoro was as warm as ever, his body heat radiating through his thick coat, coaxing Abel back to slumber. Even the rhythmic rocking as he ran after Nami down the streets threatened to lull her. She now understood why babies were calmed by rocking; it was a very soothing sensation. Blinking heavily, she tried to sit up a little more to avoid dozing off. Honestly, she felt like she could sleep the rest of the time they were waiting out the log pose.
Nami led them secretly around to a small outcropping a little north of where they'd originally parked the ship. Nami clambered down the jagged rocks before shoving some bits of debris out of the way, revealing a small ship. Mini Merry indeed. Abel honestly never thought she'd see that sheepish smile again, Merry's face as undaunted by the darkness as ever. It brought a smile to Abel's face. The Mini Merry was slightly smaller than a rowboat, with two rows of seats, enough for four people. The back half of the boat was taken up by what appeared to be a steam engine, a smoke stack sticking up from the back, and two small paddlewheels on the sides. Nami naturally took the driver's seat, and Zoro carefully climbed into the back, slinging Abel around so she could sit down. Charlie decided he wanted to ride shotgun, leaping over the back of the seat to sit up front. "Ready?" Nami asked.
"Yeah," Zoro answered once he was sure Abel was properly seated.
The Mini Merry jolted to life before the ride smoothed out, smoke puffing from the stack behind them. Stealthy, it was not. While nowhere near as loud as other steam engines she'd heard, the unmistakable rev of the motor could clearly be heard over the water. Still, they were soon coasting far enough away from the shore that Abel doubted anyone would hear or see them. It had quite a bit of pep to it, and would definitely be useful for traveling from ship to land in places where they couldn't dock. Abel could easily imagine Sanji using it to help cart the large quantities of food he sometimes had to purchase. And because it used a regular motor that meant technically anyone could drive it. The fact that Franky had modeled it as homage to their departed ship was just icing on the cake, and a much needed breath of levity in such a gloomy place.
Abel hunkered down in the seat, the cold air whipping around them making her greatly miss Zoro's warmth. Sadly, even in her post-concussed state, Abel was aware enough to recognize that both her companions would probably not react well if she suddenly curled up in Zoro's lap like a cat and took a nap. Not that she wasn't tempted to take advantage of her injured state and blame such "erratic" behaviors on the head injury, Abel was trying to respect Zoro's boundaries. They hadn't even broached the subject of telling the crew about their relationship yet, and now was certainly not the time.
Blinking her eyes wide from where they drifted shut, Abel asked, "What happened on your side of things?" She was partly trying to stay awake, but mostly genuinely curious.
"I think we already told you before we lost communication that we got away fine," Nami answered, continually casting a furtive glance to the shore for both danger and to make sure they didn't go too far out. "We just barely managed to cast off before we saw the mob with their torches. We pulled out far enough not to be seen and used the log pose to follow the curve of the island to the place Leif told us about. It's pretty gloomy there, but he was right about it being abandoned. Nothing but rocks and holes as far as you can see." She paused to glance back at Abel. "Any idea what happened with the transponder snails?"
"Negative," Abel verbalized, not trusting that shaking her head wouldn't exacerbate her headache. "I believe it's possible to block their communications, but I've no idea how or what that would even look like. Was Crick acting weird during this time?"
It took Nami a second to remember who Crick was. "No," she answered. "It acted normal, but we got no response every time we tried to contact you." Abel scratched at her head, contemplating if it was possible to single out a specific snail's transmission like that, but honestly had no idea. She thought it was a broad blockade sort of thing, but if each snail had their own mental "frequency" it was hypothetically possible to target one specifically. Maybe that's what the thousand-yard stare meant. Abel'd never seen a transponder snail jammed before, so she didn't know.
"Anyway," Nami continued, "It wasn't until Solomon and Franky showed up that we knew what'd happened. And this idiot," she motioned her head to Zoro, who merely silently scowled at her, "Tried to go off on his own."
"I take it you put a swift stop to that."
Nami snorted. "They can get lost going in a straight line. No way I was gonna let them search a maze like the catacombs on their own. Luckily, it wasn't too long after Chopper started treating them that your snail came back online. And you already know the rest."
Zoro, who'd been silent throughout the entire exchange, spoke up then. "You really don't remember anything that happened?" he questioned.
"I remember up to getting separated," Abel replied. "That's the last thing I can say with certainty." The swordsman didn't look happy with that response, but Abel wasn't too bothered. "Retrograde amnesia occurs in nearly every head injury case, with the details leading up immediately prior to the injury being most susceptible to being lost. I'll likely never remember what happened. Disrupts the chain of moving short-term memories into long-term memories. That information is simply gone from the brain." She made a motion with her hand mimicking something being thrown to the wind.
"You could sound a little more concerned," Nami chastised.
"No sense getting upset over something that was literally knocked out of my head." Nami made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl. At least that was a very Abel response to make.
Back on the Thousand Sunny, Sanji paced the deck worse than an anxious, expectant father not allowed in the delivery room. "Would you sit down?" Usopp asked from nearby. "You're making me nervous."
"Don't be so insensitive!" Sanji snapped back, at least finally halting. "How can I relax when Nami-san and Abel-dono are out there all alone with a bunch of lunatics trying to kill them!?"
Usopp made a face. "Zoro went with her," he reminded.
"That's almost as bad as being alone," Sanji retorted dismissively. "I don't trust that mosshead to know how to take care of ladies."
A droll expression crossed Usopp's face then. "He's protecting them, not taking them on a date." Going back to some contraption he was using to distract from his own nervous energy, Usopp added, "If there's one thing Zoro's good at, it's fighting."
"Don't worry, Sanji!" Luffy said confidently with a beaming grin, either oblivious or blindly optimistic about their current predicament. Maybe both. "Zoro won't let anything bad happen to Abel. She's, like, his favorite person!" Their captain's words did little to assuage their anxious cook, but the naive insight made their archeologist smile.
About that time, Chopper came out. Everyone's attention was immediately on their doctor. Without anyone having to ask him, Chopper began a rundown of his patients' statuses. "Caine's breathing has leveled out. They must've used chloroform or some other inhaled chemical to subdue her, as I didn't find any external injuries. But I am concerned about smoke inhalation... She also has some first-degree burns on her hands where they were exposed to the fire, but nothing major there. Sol, of the two, is in the worst shape. He has numerous first and second-degree burns on his hands, arms and face. The second-degree burns on his hands will need to be monitored to ensure they don't get infected and heal properly."
"I didn't know burns had degrees," Luffy commented.
"It's just a way to mark the severity of a burn," Chopper explained. "The higher the degree, the more skin damaged. First-degree burns are very superficial and only affect the top-most layer of skin. Sunburns are classified as first-degree. Second-degree burns are caused by damage to the top and middle layers of skin, usually through direct contact with fire or chemicals. They take longer to heal, and often produce blisters that—if not drained properly—can lead to infections. Third-degree is the most severe, with most of the skin being burnt away, possibly exposing bones or organs. Fortunately, no one was hurt that badly. I've applied antibiotic ointment and dressed the burns, but Sol won't be allowed to use his hands for at least a few days."
Chopper looked like he was about to go on, when his ears twitched, giving him pause. Hurriedly, he ran to the railing and jumped up, the only way he could see over the side of the ship. "Ah! I think I hear Nami and the others!" he exclaimed. Sure enough, it wasn't long before the others heard the sound of the Mini Merry's engine approaching.
This was probably the happiest Abel had been to see the Thousand Sunny since the first time it was unveiled to them. Just a few more minutes and she could finally give into the sweet siren's call of sleep that had been nagging her. It wasn't just the concussion, but all the stress and adrenaline finally ebbing away, leaving behind a hollow husk rimmed by sickness. They had, what? Four more days before they could leave? Abel intended to sleep the entire time. Zoro kept having to jostle or pinch her to keep her from nodding off once the conversation dried up. She just needed to get on the ship, make sure everyone was safe, let Chopper check her out and then bed.
Abel's wandering gaze drifted from the barren, rocky vista to the ship upon hearing a loud rumbling sound. Nami stopped the Mini Merry beside their ship, allowing Abel to watch in detached fascination as part of the hull began to rise. The panel on the side of the ship, which had the number two proudly emblazoned on it, rose to reveal a small docking channel. So that's what the circle's for, Abel thought as Nami drove them inside the tiny room. And here she'd thought the big circles on the side were merely decoration. Nami pulled them right up to the platform. "Take her upstairs while I tie Merry off," Nami instructed.
Abel was less than graceful climbing out of the boat, but managed not to fall in thanks to Zoro's ridiculously tight grip. She should complain, but felt the man wasn't in the mood for her shenanigans. Abel paused upon exiting the channel to realize where they were. "So that's what all these doors are for," she murmured, taking note that they'd come out into the central chamber of the below deck where the ladder up rested. She recalled Franky saying these rooms were "super-secret".
"Franky called it the Soldier Docking System," Zoro explained while he turned the wheel to open the hatch. Shoving it open, the swordsman climbed up first before offering a hand down to the hunter. Abel took it and the man literally hoisted her up, bypassing the ladder entirely.
This time Abel did complain once her feet were on the deck. "My brain's jostling around enough as it is, thank you," she murmured, raising a hand to her head as she steadied herself.
Before Zoro had the chance to respond, Abel found herself swarmed by concerned yet exceedingly noisy crewmates. "Abel-dono!" Sanji cried, and it was only thanks to Zoro physically moving her out of the way that she avoided being tackled by the teary cook. Ignoring how Zoro chastised the cook from trying to jump on an injured person as he set her down, Abel instead focused on the three other boys who ran up, shouting their joy that she was back in one piece. On a good day, Abel might've had the mental energy to tease out what they were saying, but as it was it was just noise. Thankfully, Franky and Robin kept their distance, happy but also smart enough to give the woman some space.
Over their enthused greetings (and Chopper's lecturing) Abel heard a heavy thud coming from the galley. Seeing Dogmeat come barreling at her was no surprise, but she could've done without the sight of him dragging his new leg along with him. Still no more able to walk on it than when she left, the dog didn't let that stop him from greeting his master, hobbling along and dragging the metal appendage as he went. He nearly fell down as it bumped against the steps before launching himself at Abel from a good ten feet away. Having no time to react, Abel barely managed to raise her arms to catch the beast as he bowled her over. She winced, expecting to hit her head (again!), but quickly felt herself suspended in midair before being shifted into a seated position on the grass. The faint whiff of flower petals told Abel Robin must've sprouted arms to catch her, but didn't have time to ponder much more as she now had a very wiggly dog in her lap.
Dogmeat, blissfully unaware of the chaos he was causing, flailed around trying to face Abel, yipping, yelping, and generally making all sorts of noises to express his exasperation and happiness at Abel's return. He didn't realize he'd elbowed Abel in the stomach with his very heavy new leg in his desperate flailing, only focused on licking at her face. Abel should've felt annoyed, with the noise hurting her head and the pain in her stomach, but it was hard to feel anything but happiness at the display of sheer, exuberant joy. How many people ever got to feel so missed? So instead, she gave a tight smile and wrapped her arms around his middle, holding him securely. "Calm," she said to him, stroking his side with one hand as she attempted to subdue his frantic expressions of love. She gave a breathy laugh at feeling Dogmeat panting, so excited he had started a biological process he didn't need just for her. Although he stopped flailing around, he practically vibrated in Abel's arms, thin tail slapping against her bicep as he chuffed and snuffed at her.
Not trusting he wouldn't lose his mind again, Abel remained holding him as she leaned back. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What're you two still doing here?" she asked, only now noting that Leif and Miren remained with them. It probably came across as more angry or accusatory than she intended, as she was merely curious why they hadn't left.
"Being seen leaving your ship right now would not be a good thing," Miren answered simply enough, to which Abel understood.
Any further questions from both sides would have to wait, as Chopper once again asserted doctor privilege. "You need to be checked out, Abel," he chided, tugging at her arm. Given that was step two of her plan, Abel agreed easily enough, struggling to her feet without letting Dogmeat go. She didn't want to get knocked over again. Only once she was certain he felt calm enough did Abel place him back on the ground. Dogmeat took to circling around her anxiously, looking like he wanted to jump on her again but was refraining.
Chopper led her back to the infirmary. As he directed her to have a seat, her attention immediately focused on the two single beds' occupants. Noticing her assessing gaze, Chopper assured her they would be fine. Willing to take his word for it, and super eager to be allowed to sleep, Abel accepted his assessment for now. She wasn't in much of a state to assist, anyway. Abel gave Chopper a rundown of what she could recall—he was none too happy about the amnesia or her blasé attitude toward it, but there wasn't much he could say about an injury sustained during fighting. Chopper started by examining the wound itself, noting that the bleeding had stopped but that it was beginning to form a knot. With a word to their cook, Sanji quickly fetched a bag of ice wrapped in a dish towel for Abel to reduce the swelling. Abel noted with dry amusement how the crew lingered by the infirmary door like buzzards.
Lacking any other injuries outside the exposure to tear gas, which had long left her system, Chopper turned his attention to checking for any lingering effects of concussion. He started by shining a pen light in her eyes, checking that her pupils dilated appropriately. They did, but Abel winced at the exceptionally bright light, suggesting some lingering light sensitivity. He also checked her eye tracking, having her follow his hoof with just her eyes, which was fine. He asked her some route questions to gauge her consciousness. Her name, the date, where they were... He wasn't appreciative of her sass when upon asking how many fingers he was holding up she replied that wasn't fair as he didn't have fingers. But as that was a "normal" Abel response, he took it as a good sign. Chopper also asked her to follow some simple motor commands. She touched her nose with her right hand, pointed to his nose with her left, and held up a certain number of fingers, all without problem.
Nodding to himself, Chopper scribbled some notes on his worksheet. "Good..." he murmured more to himself than his audience. "A GCS of fifteen."
"Is that a good thing?" Usopp asked.
"It's the Glasgow Coma Scale," Abel answered in his stead. "It's a measure doctors use to judge the impact of head injuries. The higher the score, the less severe the injury. A score of zero indicates a full coma."
Nodding again, Chopper concluded, "Your score is in the minor head injury range, though it sounds like when Father Jean found you you were in the range of severe head injury. It's good that you've recovered so quickly." His furry expression turned more serious then. "But we need to monitor your condition going forward to make sure there's no residual damage. Especially considering you were already sick." The last part was a teensy bit passive-aggressive, but Abel figured she deserved it. It was the truth, regardless.
Instead, she asked, "Does that mean I can go to sleep?" Priorities.
Filing his notes away, Chopper nodded. "I think rest would be the best thing right now. But first-" He handed over a dose of the antibiotics she was supposed to be taking, as well as something for the headache. Taking both without complaint, Abel eagerly made for the cabin.
As she entered, Dogmeat close at her heels, she warned, "If there's an emergency, don't wake me up. Deal with it yourselves." Kicking the door closed with her heel, Abel thought she heard Sanji shouting about the guys keeping down the racket. She would've shaken her head, but didn't want to make her headache worse, so settled for snorting. Foregoing any sense of decorum or concern for decency, Abel quickly divested herself of her clothing to just her tights before gratefully collapsing face-first into her bed. She barely had time to heave a heavy sigh before darkness overtook her.
Abel watched in detached, morbid curiosity at the figures standing around on the deck of the ship. The colors felt washed out, leaving the world in this foggy sense of grey. Like the time immediately before or after the sun has set but true night hasn't quite kicked in yet. Abel herself felt like she was stuck in a similar in-between state, hyper-aware of some things yet distantly aware of others. For example, she somehow knew in the back of her mind that she recognized this place and the people she hovered over, but couldn't place them. Like an odd sense of deja vu, only for people rather than events. The distinct sense of, "I know you but I don't know how I know you." They were scattered around the deck of a ship that she did and didn't know, engaged in various random tasks. They seemed as unaware of Abel's hovering as she was of their identities.
On the other hand, she felt super-aware of her own state of being. As stated, she felt herself hovering above them, only she didn't feel like she was hovering in the traditional sense. Rather, she felt her back wedged into a corner, as if she were pressed up against where two walls and a ceiling met, hands and legs pressing out to hold her up effortlessly. Like a spider on the wall. Except there was no wall because she was outside.
Abel watched on as the proverbial fly on the sky-wall with a keen sense that something was happening... or about to happen. She felt she should be concerned, because she could sense it wasn't going to be good, but couldn't bring herself to truly care. Not enough to intervene, at least. Not that she felt like she could. She simply existed against the wall, a silent observer to whatever events were about to occur. It was as if she were the audience to some tragedy play about to go down, with her having a front row seat. Yet... she was also the orchestrator of the play? That gave Abel pause. Why did she suddenly feel like she was somehow responsible for the events about to go down? Was that why she knew these people? Were they her actors about to put on the play she'd written? Or some event she'd somehow set up without them knowing?
Before Abel could ponder such hazy thoughts long, the act began. Almost too subtly, as Abel almost missed it. It began innocuously enough with the boy perched on the front of the ship falling off. Or rather, it looked to Abel like he was pulled off. He'd been leaning over, peering at something below him, when that something pulled him down. Abel expected to hear a shout or a splash - it was a ship, after all - yet everything continued silently. For a moment she thought maybe she just couldn't hear, as she wasn't picking up any ambient noises from the world around her, yet no one else on the ship seemed to have heard anything. Maybe there was simply no sound.
Now conscious of it, Abel felt a pressure in her ears, like a weight against her eardrum. She would've rubbed her hand against it in an attempt to rid herself of the unpleasant sensation, but found she couldn't really move. Odd. So she could feel but not move? See but not hear? Could she speak? For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to try.
Maybe because the next act was about to begin. And as (she assumed) the same someone who pulled the first boy off also grabbed a second man who'd been sleeping against the railing, she was beginning to get the idea of the plot of this play. Why wouldn't she remember the plot of a play she wrote? It was a murder mystery. Or maybe a psychotic game. One silent attacker trying to slowly pick each player off until there was no one left. Well, he seemed to be doing a good job of it, as so far he'd taken out two players and everyone else was none the wiser. They really should be paying more attention. It really didn't help that they were so spread out it was easy to pick them off one-by-one.
From her position, Abel saw the entire ship at an angle, meaning she was privy to the villain finally appearing on the far side of the deck. She couldn't exactly make them out, which was odd. She could see him but couldn't describe him. Other than recognizing it was a "he" that was tall and gangly and very sneaky. Almost similar to the spider she felt like, the villain folded over the railing and onto the deck, hidden from everyone else behind the building. Abel saw him duck into the building from the back, out of her view with slick, inhuman movements. While she couldn't hear anything, everyone else must've been able to, because they all turned in the direction of that room. Abel felt a pit in her stomach that, as everyone crept closer to the door leading into the room, things weren't going to end well for anyone. She should be concerned, but honestly just felt like they should be taking the opportunity to run away rather than slowly getting closer to the thing killing them all. It was like watching a cat toy with some mice.
It made Abel think of that one time she'd seen an old barn cat catch a rabbit underneath a neighbor's plow. She'd never known rabbits could make noise up to that point, let alone scream. She remembered, as a child, being angry at the cat. Not necessarily at the cat killing a rabbit, but at him for toying with it. If you have to kill something, make it quick. Don't make it suffer. But that's what the cat did; let the rabbit go then catch it again and drag it back under the plow. She knew she shouldn't be angry at the cat. That was just its prey drive. She shouldn't apply morals to animal behavior. That didn't stop her from running the cat off, but by that point the rabbit was either too injured or scared to run away. And Abel couldn't reach it under the plow. Child Abel had felt slightly sick, and remembered yelling at the cat to just hurry up and eat it, ranting that it probably wasn't even hungry because its owner fed it cat food and it was just killing the rabbit to be a jerk. She felt angry, because she knew she couldn't stand there all day fending off the cat while letting the rabbit slowly, painfully die; but neither could she force the cat to just kill it. Adult Abel recognized in hindsight she might've tried to get it and take it to her dad to fix, but the poor thing probably wouldn't have made it.
He should just hurry up and kill them rather than taking sadistic glee in dragging things out as long as possible.
No longer quite as detached as before, Abel now watched on in almost an odd sense of impatient irritation as these rabbits slowly fell into the obvious trap. One of the girls was shoving one of the guys toward the door, and he obviously didn't want to go. But near the open door they went, regardless.
Everything seemed to pause as they finally peered inside the door, the world frozen. Abel's eyes widened as she felt something slide up behind her, somehow squeezing between her back flushed against the wall. She felt it. Can a shadow feel slimy? He was warm, and with no concept of personal space, right up against her as if he wanted to meld into her skin. She knew without seeing that this was the same person on the ship, now coming for her. She felt him leaning toward her ear. And while he didn't speak into the now loud ringing, she knew what he was saying. Did she think she was above the game?
Abel's face scrunched up as she was pulled from unconsciousness by something wet lapping at her face. Given the warmth and flexible nature of said something, Abel assumed it was a tongue. "No," she murmured, shoving at where she figured Dogmeat to be while pressing her face back into the pillows, pulling the covers up around her face. Abel wasn't opposed to puppy kisses, but drew the line at being licked on the mouth. With her face pressed into the pillow, she heard Dogmeat make a warbling sound before she felt a nose trying to snuffle its way into her blanket. The hunter made a high-pitched noise of protest as both Dogmeat's cold breath and nose brushed against her neck.
It was only thanks to the coolness of her sheets against her skin that Abel remembered she was basically nude beneath the sheets, and thus didn't sit straight up at the cold sensation tickling her neck. Good thing, too, as her covered ears soon picked up an amused chuckle from somewhere in the room. Eventually whoever it was took pity on her, as Abel felt someone pull Dogmeat's nose away, earning a grumpy growl from the beast.
Safe from her snuggle monster, Abel deigned to peer out from beneath the covers. Robin's amused grin wasn't too terribly surprising to find staring back at her from the couch. Was Dogmeat's grumbling from the interruption or Robin using her Devil Fruits on him? He didn't seem to appreciate being touched by her fake hands.
Standing with one graceful stride, Robin brought over a spare blanket and draped it over Abel's back, adding to the weight. Abel could only imagine how she must look, given the smile on Robin's face as she explained, "You were shivering in your sleep."
Abel's only response was to hum. Readjusting herself, she reached out a hand just enough from her cocoon to pet Dogmeat's nose pityingly. Blinking away the sleep from her eyes, Abel tried to look out the porthole, but saw only dark. Only the lantern at the coffee table illuminated the room, probably just enough light for Robin to read by without disturbing her charge. "What time is it?" Abel murmured, face still partially under blankets.
Glancing at the clock, Robin replied, "10:36 AM." Noticing the other woman's vacant expression, Robin clarified, "You've been asleep for about twelve hours." The hum of acknowledgement this time told Robin that had been Abel's actual question.
Abel truly suspected the raven had been watching over her when Robin poured a glass of water for her and set it on the bedside table. "How do you feel?" Robin asked.
Abel squinted a little, doing a quick check of her body before answering, "Like the seatrain ran me over, backed up over me and ran me over again." Despite her smile taking on a bit of empathy, Robin didn't bother to hide the chuckle at Abel's analogy.
Her body really didn't want to move, but Abel's throat felt dry and parched. Forcing herself with more effort than she liked or wanted to exert, Abel managed to push herself onto her elbows just enough to reach for the glass. Her supporting arm shook a bit, but Abel managed to drag the glass to her. The cold water felt wonderful on her dry throat, and she downed the glass in one long shot. Sighing in relief as she brought the glass down, Abel eagerly accepted Robin pouring her another one. Between her activities yesterday and the fever, her body was probably dehydrated.
Vocal chords more lubricated, Abel could explain her status a bit more thoroughly. "I still have a fever... my joints ache..." Abel rotated her ankles, feeling their heavy stiffness. "My ankles are swollen..." She sat up fully then, uncaring about Robin seeing her as all the women had seen each other in various states of undress. "And every few minutes it feels like someone's putting a hot poker to the back of my brain." Her fingers grazed against the bandage still securely attached to the back of her head.
Abel leaned her head forward as Robin gingerly pulled the bandage back. "The padding is still clean," she advised. Abel flinched as pain pulsed when Robin's fingers lightly brushed against her abused skull. She could tell without touching she had a nice knot there.
As Abel finished her second glass, both women heard a voice approaching the door. "Robin! Is that Abel's voice? Is she awake?"
Their loveable captain started to open the door, only to have it slam back on him thanks to Robin's numerous hands sprouting from the walls. Upon hearing the commotion outside, Robin calmly went to the door, opening it just enough to poke her head out, the rest of her body shielding the opening. "You'll have to wait, Luffy," she warned. "She's not dressed yet."
"Oh! Okay! Tell her to hurry up then so I can check on her!"
Despite her miserable state, Abel couldn't help snorting fondly at the statement. While they all knew Luffy probably couldn't even be trusted to give someone a simple pain pill, it was endearing that he still tried to stay involved in the crew's care.
Abel eyed the clothes she'd dropped carelessly on the floor with mild disdain. Given that she was fully intent on sleeping the rest of her misery away, she wasn't too keen on the idea of getting fully dressed again. She could sleep in jeans and a corset on a good day, but that wasn't today.
With a distinct lack of grace, Abel swayed as she brought her feet to the carpet. Her head swam a little, but nothing major. Hearing a whimper, Abel ran a reassuring hand over Dogmeat's head before carefully making for the wardrobe. After a moment rummaging around, Abel pulled back with one of her baggy sweater dresses. It was simple, solid light grey, and made of the softest fleece. The warm, soft fabric felt amazing as she slid it overhead. She hiked the sleeves up a bit, as they naturally fell a bit long, almost hiding her hands. It was definitely bigger for her, and normally she'd wear an underbust corset to give it some shape. But today she was going to just go for cozy. The hem fell a bit short, long enough to cover but not to her knees. Because of that, Abel just left her tights on. She was already going braless, no need to make it more awkward.
Abel spared a glance to her legs, noting that her ankles were indeed a little swollen, the bones not as visible as usual. Edema wasn't unheard of with an infection. And she could still see the angry red splotches on her legs through the tights. Running a hand through her sweaty hair, Abel mused if she had the energy for a shower.
Before she could reach an answer, Robin deemed her fit for the rest of the world, thus opening the door. As she did, she added, "I believe your sister has been awake for a while."
A shower sounded good, but she should probably check on her sister first. Not that Abel doubted Chopper to give her the utmost care, but if Caine was anything like she used to be, she wouldn't rest until she knew Abel was okay. She paused only to slide on some grey flats, not wanting to slip on the dewy deck.
Abel would like to say she stepped out into daylight... but that was impossible here in the Devil's Triangle. Leaving one needy pet, Abel was quickly greeted by another, as Luffy bound over to her. "You're up!" he shouted in greeting. "That's good!"
"I'm up is the extent I can say, Boss," Abel replied, even her tired mood unable to completely withstand Luffy's optimism.
She raised a brow as Luffy got up in her personal space, staring hard at her face, as if sizing her up. Abel struggled to restrain her smile as the boy examined her face from different angles before concluding, "You look awful."
Abel didn't even have time to guffaw, as a heel swiftly flew in out of nowhere, colliding with Luffy's face. "You insensitive jerk!" Sanji shrieked. "Abel-dono is radiant even when she's sick!" Abel certainly didn't feel radiant, unless they were talking about her excess body heat, and she felt her facial expression showed as much. But some things were simply expected with this crew, so Abel didn't spare the bickering boys another thought as she slowly ambled across the deck to the infirmary.
From the aquarium bar room, Franky stuck his head out. "Yo, good to see you up, Babe! Sorry we couldn't get you out from that pit, but you made it out in one piece. Though you're lookin' a little worse for the wear." Abel's only response was to make a rude gesture, earning a hearty guffaw from the shipwright. "You're in good spirits, at least!" Of course the thug wouldn't be deterred by crassness. He ran around in a speedo most days, for crying out loud.
Entering the galley, Abel found Nami putting away some tangerines in the pantry. Turning back, the redhead jumped upon noticing Abel lurking in the doorway. "Geeze, you almost gave me a heart attack, Abel!" Nami chastised, shutting the pantry behind her.
"Apologies," Abel drawled. "I'll attempt to stomp around the ship more often."
An odd sound coming from the infirmary temporarily distracted her from the conversation, granting Nami an opening to observe their hunter. After giving her a stern onceover, Nami declared, "You look like hell."
Abel barely resisted a snort. "If I didn't have such a healthy self-esteem, all these negative comments about my appearance might give me a complex."
Nami rolled her eyes at the droll dramatics. Only Abel could manage that. "Shouldn't you still be in bed?" she asked instead, gathering up some of her gardening supplies to put away later.
"All in good time," was all Abel said, heading for the infirmary.
The sound coming from inside was odd, but one she wasn't unfamiliar with. It was a really long buzzing sound, like blowing through a broken kazoo. Abel, however, knew better, having heard such a contraption before. Thus, she wasn't surprised when, upon coming into view of the infirmary, she found her sister puffing hard into a clear, plastic noisemaker-esque device. The name of it escaped her at the moment, but she recognized its intent was to act as a form of respiratory therapy.
Her sister currently sat in bed with the narrow end of the plastic device in her mouth, blowing into it, making that prolonged buzzing sound. The opposite was more bulbous, making it truly look like the odd duck caller it sounded like.
"Found any ducks, yet?" Abel quipped. Her sister, giving her the side eye but never ceasing in her exercise, made the same rude gesture Abel had earlier.
"Abel!" Chopper squeaked, jumping up from the chair where he'd been overseeing Caine's therapy. "You're up! How do you feel?" He was already pulling Abel to sit in his own chair. "You've got another three minutes on the flutter valve, Caine," the little deer continued. "Keep going."
Abel paid more attention to the other occupants than their doctor as he went about his check-up. Caine continued blowing into the flutter valve, pausing only to take another breath or cough up some mucus. That was the entire point of the device, basically; to make you cough. It helped both increase excretions in the lungs and force them out. Abel probably could've used one back when she first had pneumonia, but she hadn't been having any trouble coughing at the time.
It made Abel happy that, of the two on the bed, Caine looked to be in better shape. And that wasn't as much of a dig on Solomon as one might expect. The man had literally used his body as a shield, and he looked like it. Caine, aside from the cough, was unharmed. Solomon, on the other hand, had skin peeling on his face, bandages around his torso but still some angry red splotches or bits of pink poking out. Sitting up in an extra cot hauled in, it looked like the bandages extended down past his torso. It only made sense that his legs would be burned as well, having been closest to the flames. Abel allowed herself a small wince of empathy at the idea of trying to sit with a burnt backside.
But either the man had a good poker face or Chopper had him on some of the good stuff, because he didn't show any outward signs of pain. Instead, he was too busy trying to shoo Charlie away without actually using his damaged hands. The cat had stuck around, and was currently trying to unravel the bandage from Solomon's hand, already having frayed part of it.
The sight of everyone being safe and (mostly) sound helped lessen some of Abel's suffering, knowing it was all worthwhile.
Abel allowed Chopper to fuss over her a bit longer before the doctor satisfied himself. "You've really done it this time, Abel," their little deer-man was currently complaining, all while mixing up the next batch of antibiotics. "You've got to let your body recover. I expect this sort of thing from Luffy or Zoro, but I expect better from you."
"Desperate times, and all that rot," Abel retorted.
"Still!" Chopper waggled a hoof at her. Out of the corner of her eye, Abel saw Caine smirking around the flutter valve end. Abel couldn't say if it was nostalgia at the familiar scene, or how ridiculous/adorable Chopper looked trying to tell someone off in his little form. "You'd better do what I say from now on!"
"If someone comes looking to kidnap again, I make no promises." Chopper huffed, but couldn't say much more.
Leaving him to his mixing, Abel asked, "Where'd our other hangers-ons get to?"
"Home, I assume," Chopper answered, grinding away. "Or at least Leif did. I don't know about Miren... but Leif said he'd try to come back with news when he could."
"They walked?"
Chopper nodded. "Leif seemed sure he could find his way back. Hopefully everything's calmed down in town." Caine muttered something between her teeth that sounded like "assholes". Abel had to agree.
Satisfied with his dose, Chopper handed it over to Abel to dutifully swallow down before returning to his other patient. "Okay, you can stop now, Caine." Her sister looked relieved to finally be done with her breathing exercises, harking up a large chunk of phlegm along the way. Seemed smoke inhalation was the worst of it for her.
Downing the antibiotics in one go, Abel made to leave. "Go to bed," Caine barked.
"Shower," Abel said in response, already having made up her mind that if she was up, she might as well take care of some things.
As she made for the ladder, silently cursing Franky for putting the bathroom up some many ladders, Sanji had returned to the kitchen to begin prep for lunch. "Abel-dono!" he crooned. For some reason, the sound made Abel flinch. And here she'd thought she'd gotten used to the man. Maybe her brain was just being sensitive to noises. As she stared at the cook in response, he continued, "I'll be preparing a healthy salmon dish for lunch for you. That should give your immune system a good boost of healthy fats and proteins. Do you know if Caine-chan eats fish?"
"Not sure," Abel answered shortly, but honestly. Caine had started the whole vegetarian thing shortly before eloping.
With much reluctance, Abel grabbed the rungs of the ladder. Threading her foot through the first step, she commented, "If I'm not down in thirty minutes, send one of the girls to ensure I didn't drown in the bath."
Climbing up to the bathroom was far more arduous a task than she'd have liked. By the time she made it up the three ladders, she felt exhausted and out of breath. Abel rubbed a hand over her face as she leaned back against the window of what she'd come to call the WC, where the toilet and sink were. Being sick sucked, and she was extremely jealous of the guys who said they'd never been. Though, she supposed in this case, she only had herself to blame.
Shoving herself from the window, Abel slowly began to gather some towels and other paraphernalia she'd need for a long bath. A shower might be nice, but the thought of relaxing in the tub was too much to pass up. Bad form, she knew, but Abel honestly doubted she even had the strength to lift her arms over her head right now.
As she did so, she took note of the mirror gleaming in the light from the corner of her eye. Pausing, Abel turned to face it. Unsurprisingly, her own face stared back. Abel watched it for a long moment, as if expecting the face to somehow change. Yet when it became clear her reflection was only going to mirror herself, she returned to the task at hand.
Standing nude while waiting for the tub to fill was unpleasant thanks to the cool ambient temperature of the island, but soon enough steam began to fill the room, casting a comfortingly warm mist. Abel gingerly unwound the bandage from her head. Her fingers definitely felt a bit of a goose-egg from the repeated blows to the cranium, but unless she touched or pressed on it, it wasn't too much of a problem. She'd probably need to put some ice on it when she got out.
Once the tub was full, Abel eagerly slid in. The hot water felt heavenly on her aching bones, and with a happy sigh Abel scooted toward the middle of the ample space. Keeping one hand carefully on the rim, Abel leaned back just enough to dip her hair in the water. She didn't think her skull could take shampooing, but rinsing her hair out would make her feel better and remove any remaining blood and grime. As lightly as she could Abel ran her fingers through her hair, being extra careful around her wound.
Content her hair was as clean as it was going to get short of soap, Abel folded a thick, fluffy towel and rested it on the rim of the tub before leaning back, letting the towel cushion her head. Letting her arms float limply beside her, Abel sunk into the soothing water. She took in a long, slow, deep inhale before releasing it, imagining the breath taking some of the stress with it. This left her feeling pleasantly hollow for a moment, suspended as she was in the water. There was no danger, no trouble... Everyone was fine. She was fine. They had survived another encounter. And soon enough, they'd leave this island behind and it would all just be a memory that one day she'd look back on and laugh.
Abel's eyes lingered on the window. A shame she couldn't see the sun. That would've made this perfect. But the darkness was a little relaxing in its own way, and Abel soon felt her eyes sliding closed of her own accord. She felt the stillness of the ship. The waters must be exceptionally calm right now, as she couldn't feel the water moving. She did, however, feel the warm steam around her face, making each inhale feel as if it were also cleansing her lungs, her breaths out substantially cooler in comparison. One by one, Abel tensed her muscles before releasing them, enjoying the stretch and relaxation that followed.
Despite the inconvenience of having the bath up so many ladders, there were a few benefits. It had a nicer view (in places not so foggy), it was hard to sneak up on, and it stayed above most of the chaos. Rarely did the boys' antics take them up to this part of the ship. That meant Abel could lean back and relax, above the dim of the bustle of ship life.
While a hot bath during a fever sounded counterintuitive, the hot water actually made Abel feel a bit cooler, as the water evaporating induced a sense of cool. She brought her hands up to her face, dampening it before wiping the excess away and leaning back with a sigh. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to finally fully relax. Someone else could deal with whatever problems arose; she deserved a rest.
The quiet of the bath lulled Abel into a half-dozing state. Only the faint hum of the wind outside, the occasional melodic plinks of water droplets, or the skeletal groaning of pipes interrupted the silence. Abel's own deep breath was loud as a gunshot in the stillness.
Tap, tap... tap, tap...
At first, Abel didn't notice the sound, attuned as her ears were to soaking in the silence. Even when it did break through her consciousness, she brushed it off as the pipes. Yet the sharp sound persisted. Tap, tap... tap, tap...
Actually, now that she thought of it, it didn't sound like water in the pipes. It was harder, more distinct. Not metallic, but like something trickling against glass. Tap, tap... tap, tap... Like a bird pecking on the windowpane. Tap, tap, tap... tap, tap, tap... A very insistent bird.
Hazily, Abel forced her eyes open from where they felt glued shut through fatigue and heat. The mist rising from the hot water had filled the room, casting everything in a hazy, dreamlike state. Blinking through the mist, Abel raised her gaze to the single window perched above, expecting to see a very confused, curious raven or owl, drawn in by the light. And for a second, as her eyes struggled to adjust and remained clouded, she could almost convince herself that was what the blurry black shape was reflected through the glass.
However, as her eyes cleared and the form became more distinct, Abel swiftly realized her insistent visitor was no bird. She'd scarcely even call it a person anymore.
The featureless fleshy face of one of the cults' experiments seemed to gaze down at her from where it clung to the windowsill outside. How it managed to stare her in the eyes without having any eyes was beyond Abel, but at the moment that was the least of her concerns. The thing tilted its head inquisitively, looking up at something before raising a single, long-clawed hand to tap on the window again. Tap. Tap. This time it sounded less like it was trying to get Abel's attention and more like it was testing the strength of the glass. Looking for a way in. The sound it made felt like it was coming from right beside Abel's ear.
Now fully awake, Abel shot up to her feet. As she did, the thing's head fell below the windowsill, out of view. Panting, not from the heat, Abel kept her eyes glued to the window, waiting for the thing's next move. How it managed to track them down and climb up unnoticed, she couldn't guess. But it wasn't the first time an enemy had snuck in to assault Abel. Abel struggled to pick whether this or the golem had been creepier. Maybe it patrolled the shore like the one in the cave and just stumbled upon them.
It soon became clear the thing had no intention of showing itself again, yet Abel hesitated to turn away. In the back of her mind sat this niggling fear the moment she looked away it would bust through the window. But even if that was the case, she didn't want to be caught unarmed.
Before Abel could turn, however, the room went dark as someone covered her head with a sack. Abel tried to scream, but the thick fabric pressed hard against her face, preventing her from opening her mouth. The thick, sickly scent of iron flooded her senses, to the point she could taste it. Hands came up to grasp the gnarled, clawed hands holding the bag over her head, almost choking her with the force of its grip. Abel's stomach heaved when her fingers brushed the texture of the fabric, realizing it wasn't fabric, but flesh. A flesh mask trying to suffocate her.
Her last coherent thought before full panic set in was the realization that the thing she'd been seeing in the window was actually a reflection of what had been lurking in the room with her already.
The next few moments were a blur for Abel, as she clawed and struggled to breathe. It felt like she was drowning, heat stinging her lungs internally. Limbs flailed and she desperately prayed someone actually saw past her sarcasm for once and really did come up to check on her.
She felt her body falling back into the water, taking the thing with her, yet only felt the hard surface of the tub against her back. This might work to her advantage, however, if she could get enough leverage. Shoving down the panic for a brief moment of rational thought, Abel pushed her hands down. Gripping at the porcelain surface hard enough to crack her nails, Abel used all her strength to shove her head up. Water fell away as light and fresh air burst into her face.
Coughing and sputtering, Abel dragged herself to the opposite side of the tub, clutching it like a lifeline as she whirled around to face- nothing.
Continuing to cough water from her lungs and catch her breath, Abel's wide eyes frantically searched the room for her assailant. Yet she found nothing, save for a flooded floor where she'd sloshed the water out. Her head whipped around, certain the thing had snuck up behind her again, but nothing. She even dredged the tub, feeling around for anything hiding below, or even the disgusting flesh mask. Yet her hands came up with nothing but water. Running her hands over her face didn't come back with the blood she'd been suffocating in just a few seconds ago. The door remained shut, everything else in place, and it wasn't hiding under the edge of the tub.
Coughing out a few more handfuls of water, Abel strained her brain to figure out what the hell just happened. Standing on shaky legs, Abel opened the window. Ignoring the shiver from the cold air outside, Abel peered out. She couldn't see down the side of the ship, but there was no water on the ledge, meaning the thing hadn't gone out that way. Besides, she doubted it would bother to close the window behind it.
A knock at the door pulled a noise from Abel, and she nearly fell in the tub as she jerked around, back to the wall. Unaware of the panic within, Robin's calm voice called, "Did you drown yet, Abel?"
Swallowing from the soreness in her throat from coughing, Abel managed out weakly, "Maybe...?"
Because the door wasn't locked, Robin opened it and looked in with a mild expression of concern. Quickly taking note of the watery floor and Abel's flushed yet also pale visage, the woman stepped in fully. "What happened?" she asked.
The fact that Robin, of all people, hadn't noticed anything fleeing the room through the only other exit was the final nail in the coffin for Abel. "I... must've fallen asleep." Even to her own ears she didn't sound convinced, but it made the most sense. No one could sneak past Robin. Abel must've fallen asleep, her tired and traumatized brain making her dream to process everything she refused to think about in the waking world. Then, when she'd slipped down in the tub, her dreaming brain had simply interpreted that into the narrative of being "attacked" to account for her not being able to breathe. It was crazy, but a more logical answer than Robin simply not seeing something. Especially with Robin's suspicious gaze tracking around the room as she approached.
"Perhaps you should stick with showers until you're healed," the other woman suggested, helping Abel climb out of the tub. "Chopper would be very upset if you drowned after everything."
As much as Abel generally preferred to be left alone when sick, it was nice to have the older woman's help in getting dried and dressed after her ordeal. Neither spoke further, but Abel sensed that Robin was filing the incident away for further use, if needed. Lunch wasn't quite ready by the time she made it back down to the galley, but Abel didn't feel like moving any further, so she stationed herself on the bar. Naturally, Luffy was there, eagerly awaiting the next meal. Most of the rest of the crew slowly meandered their way in, the scent of food luring them like a siren's song to the nostrils.
Leaning back to watch the scene, Abel cast a glance at Chopper, jotting something in a notebook. Perhaps notes on their progress, or a reminder to purchase some much-needed supplies. Still disquieted by the incident, she asked in a low voice so as to not draw attention, "Doc, is it common to have vivid dreams following a concussion?"
Chopper raised his head. "Sometimes," he answered, shifting his head as he thought. "Sleep disturbances are quite common following head injuries, though they usually fall into the categories of hypersomnia or insomnia. Actually, most people tend to have fewer dreams after a concussion, because they can't reach the deepest stage of sleep. So it's actually a good sign you can dream. It means your mind and body are getting the restoration they need." Abel begged to differ, given the traumatic nature of her recent dreams.
Closing his book, Chopper continued seriously, "Are you waking up too easily? If you're worried about it, I'd recommend trying to keep a normal sleep routine, but don't push it. You're also still sick, so even if you stay awake, you should be taking it easy. Your body has a lot to heal from." Abel hummed in acknowledgement. Trying to keep a normal sleep-wake cycle would probably do her good. Especially with it being dark all the time, her sense of time was going out the window. Though, the thought of sitting in bed with nothing to do didn't sound appealing.
An angry bark from outside broke her train of thought. Standing, Abel moved to the doorway and peered out. She couldn't see anything, but Dogmeat gave another bark. It wasn't his threatening bark, but more angry. Scolding. Curious, Abel moved over to the slide to discover the dog standing at the bottom glaring up. Upon spotting his master, Dogmeat gave a growl, snorting at the slide.
Chuckling to herself, Abel slid down the slide to greet her dog. "What's wrong, boy?" she asked upon reaching the bottom. "Can't get up now?" Although Dogmeat was moving around on his new leg, he wasn't actually using it. The metal contraption stuck out awkwardly at his side.
As if offended by the tease, Dogmeat turned his back on his master. That only further confirmed Abel's theory, as he didn't move his new leg, only dragging it along the ground. Come to think of it, that would be a good way to pass the time in a way that wouldn't strain her body. "You need physiotherapy, boy," Abel decided, running a hand along Dogmeat's protruding spine.
Abel caught eyes with Zoro, who was just getting up from napping somewhere. Ignoring the assessing gaze the swordsman gave as he approached, Abel asked, "A little help?"
Zoro paused before her, staring her down. The hunter barely had the chance to process the mischievous glint in his eye before he pounced, scooping her up under his arm and hoisting her up so she dangled in his grip. Completely gobsmacked, Abel couldn't react at first, just hanging from Zoro's grip around her middle, before she balked, "I meant the dog." The smug look on his face told Abel he knew that. Though he did also scoop Dogmeat under his other arm before carting them both back to the kitchen like they weighed nothing.
Abel should feel miffed about being hoisted like a sack of potatoes, but did little more than make sure her shirt hadn't ridden up too far. Her tights weren't fully opaque, after all.
Most of the crew looked amused upon Zoro entering the kitchen with his cargo, but not everyone. "How dare you treat Abel-dono like that, mosshead!" Sanji shrilled. The only reason he didn't come after the swordsman was because he currently had a sauté pan in his hand. Though he did make some threatening gestures with his spatula.
"I didn't realize you were part retriever, Chief," Abel quipped.
"As lately you've been getting into trouble every time you're left alone, I figured this was for the best," Zoro retorted, partly serious, as he placed Abel's feet on the ground. Dogmeat, he dropped on the couch.
Holding back a comment that he didn't even know the half of it, Abel straightened out her top before returning her attention to her dog. Sitting on the ground, Abel urged Dogmeat to do the same. With an uneven flop, he followed her commands, dutifully allowing Abel to move him around as she saw fit. Noticing him still favoring his natural legs, Abel adjusted his stance to all fours, bringing his new prosthetic directly under his shoulder, rather than allowing him to hold it more out to the side, like some weird kickstand.
Sternly, Abel commanded, "Stay."
Placing her hands on Dogmeat's torso, just behind his shoulder blades, Abel began to push on his body. Naturally, he staggered a little as his weight shifted unexpectedly backward. "Stay," Abel repeated. It only took a few repetitions of the command while rocking his body back and forth before Dogmeat understood that Abel wanted him to stand still.
Manipulating his body back clockwise, Abel pushed more of his weight onto his haunches, watching his body bend to accommodate while keeping all feet on the floor. Dogmeat remained steadfast on the ground through the rotation to the back legs and front left leg. But when she pulled most of his body weight onto the prosthetic, he didn't adapt as well, his three natural legs shuffling while the prosthetic remained rooted to the ground, unbending. With her hands on his back, Abel felt he wasn't putting any weight on that leg still, unused to having the option. Hence why he kept dragging it around.
Returning him to a neutral stance, Abel kept one hand firmly on the base of the prosthetic while taking his opposite ankle in her other. Slowly, meeting resistance, Abel lifted the left leg off the floor, forcing Dogmeat to use his prosthetic. She felt him tense, clearly expecting to fall, and his shoulder shaking slightly against the metal frame. He didn't fall, of course, but his mind still hadn't connected with this frame being a part of him. Animals weren't dumb. They had a sense of body awareness, and Dogmeat had long adapted to only having three legs. Abe wondered if he even remembered ever having four.
Eventually, Abel felt Dogmeat's body shift a little more naturally toward his right side, slowly realizing he had something there to support him. Yet gazing across his back, Abel felt his right shoulder sat a little too high. Perhaps because he's so ramrod stiff, she told herself, noting the distinct lack of bend in the prosthetic.
Shifting her hand down toward the "elbow" Abel pushed on it a bit, but it stubbornly refused to move. Letting Dogmeat's leg back down, Abel called to Franky, "The joint's a bit stiff here."
Sauntering over, Franky knelt next to the hunter, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as Abel demonstrated the stiffness. "Easy enough fix," he decided, whipping out some tools from who knew where. Did he keep them in his speedo? Did Abel really want to know?
The man's big blue hair prevented Abel from seeing what he was doing, but after a few moments, Dogmeat's right side shifted lower to match his left. When Franky leaned back, Abel observed the prosthetic had better bend. "That should do it," Franky declared, resting his big hand on Dogmeat's shoulders and pushing down. Not nearly as compliant with the metal man, Dogmeat growled, but his shoulders hunched appropriately. In stubborn protest, Dogmeat sat down, but the duo noted the bend in both front legs now matched, and he sat a little more evenly. "I loosened the springs a bit so they won't be so stiff. It might take some tweaking to get the resistance just right, but we'll get there."
As it turned out, Caine did, in fact, still eat fish. While probably technically not "vegetarian", some people seemed to consider fish not meat. Of course, Abel knew Caine's real reasons for not eating meat, so it didn't surprise her that her sister was okay with fish. Besides, it would be hard to be a strict vegetarian at sea and not eat fish, the most readily available source of protein- and food, in general.
Caine didn't eat with them, instead opting to take her and Solomon's lunch in the infirmary. Abel had wondered if Chopper had badgered them about staying in the room, though she discovered that probably wasn't the case when, upon entering the infirmary to grab something, the two became embarrassed at Caine being caught feeding Solomon. Sickness be damned, the sight of the two jumping away like Abel caught them doing something salacious together brought a smirk to the hunter's face. "Please," Abel drawled, continuing her trek to the cabinets. "I've walked in on you doing worse."
While not the most... machismo male, apparently being caught being hand-fed by his wife was a bridge too far for his masculinity to handle. Which was ridiculous, in Abel's opinion. He literally couldn't use his hands. What else was he to do; shove his face directly into the food like a dog? Then again, it might've been more that Abel caught them. Yeah, probably that one.
Ignoring the stares boring into her back, Abel went about her business retrieving what she came in for: a needle. Grabbing a cleaned, capped, sanitized one from Chopper's supply, Abel then turned to leave. "Carry on," she said as she departed, enjoying her sister's ire. Some habits never die.
Abel felt inordinately relieved to be back in her office, finding everything exactly as she left it... including the door. She inhaled deeply, the scent from her smudging still lingering on the surfaces. The warm, earthy fragrance made her feel a bit more clear-headed, alleviating some of her persistent headache. Thinking maybe she should sleep down here next time, Abel set about the task she'd given herself. If she was going to heed Chopper's sage advice and try to stay awake, she needed something mentally but not physically stimulating to work on. And what better task than helping her poor neglected pup?
As she diluted some of her "hydrachloric acid" with saline, Abel pondered if it would do any good for the beast. For one, he was undead. So far as Abel had observed, he didn't have working autonomic functions. Dogmeat didn't have a pulse, didn't need to eat, and didn't feel pain. He only breathed in so far as he was sniffing things. Functionally, the only organ working was his brain. Even his wounds didn't seem to really heal, only Chopper's medical attention keeping them closed. Abel honestly had no idea if the stem cells would do anything without his metabolism working.
And even if they did work, that didn't mean they'd help with his leg. It was an entirely new limb, made of metal, not flesh. Still, she saw no way it could hurt him, and at the very least Abel would know she was doing everything she could to help him adapt.
Abel paused as she capped the syringe again, feeling a cold chill. She was only partially relieved to find Miren watching her from the doorway. Her pale form stood ethereal in the dark hallway, like a white shadow, if such a thing could exist. "Can I help you?" Abel asked warily.
Peering around at Abel's sanctuary, Miren answered at length, "I came to see how you fared following your ordeal."
Abel wondered if it was the smudge keeping her at bay, or if the other woman was merely respecting the space of someone who clearly still hadn't made up their mind about her. "As well as can be expected," Abel answered at length. If she could overlook Robin's behavior to allow her to join the crew, surely she could leave Miren's behavior in the past enough to let her on the ship. The woman truly didn't seem to have any ill intent. "How's the city?"
Miren gave a thin smile, reminding Abel a bit of the ones Robin used to use. The two were a lot alike in some way, except Miren seemed to lean in more to her creepy nature. Maybe it came with the territory of being a necromancer. "It's all topsy-turvy," Miren explained. "The living are loud and the dead are silent. Bodies fill the streets while the tunnels lie empty. It's usually the other way 'round."
"Any chance they're gearing up for a second attack?"
Miren gave the barest of head shakes. "The people are of two minds. One is relieved you are gone, the danger passed. The other cowers in their homes fearing the wrath of their forgotten god for letting you escape. Either way, they will not give chase."
"Any rumblings from the cult?"
Miren's smile fell a bit, leaving her looking even more like death than normal. "Even more silent than the grave. You should be wary. The snake always draws back before the strike."
"And here I thought your experience was with a different type of reptile," Abel deflected.
Apparently immune to such things, Miren continued, "I hear nothing, as if the whole island is holding its breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop."
Abel raised a sardonic brow before turning back to plug her bottle. "The shoe dropping wasn't trying to burn us alive? Things truly must be bad, then."
She didn't even hear the woman move, but cards floated on the table in front of Abel. "A reversed Tower." Abel glanced at Miren, who remained standing at the door, somehow both staring straight into and past Abel. Turning back around, Abel eyed the card. A flaming tower, set alight by lightning, hung from the sky. The two people around it seemed to float in the air, falling into rather than jumping out of the burning building. "Crisis seems to be averted, but you've only delayed the inevitable. But good can come from destruction. Some towers need to be torn down."
"A reversed High Priestess. She stands between two extremes. Good and evil, positive and negative, male and female. Life is duality. She sees the necessity in both and mediates... yet she stands confused now. Your gut is telling you something, yet you're not sure what." A regal, robed woman sat upon a crescent moon throne, reclined between a black and white pillar. Had she been right way up, she'd look in control. As she sat now, it seemed only her grip on the two pillars was keeping her aloft.
"Don't I have to draw the cards for them to apply to me?" Abel interrupted, yet her eyes continued to fall on the final card. A woman sat, flanked by the ocean, blindfolded, holding two swords crossed before her, pointing in opposite directions.
"An upright Two of Swords," Miren concluded, not slowed at all by Abel's interruption. "A stalemate. There are two paths to take, choices to make, yet they pull in different directions. Will you choose to remove your blindfold and make a choice?" Her glassy gaze met Abel then, and for a moment Abel couldn't figure out why she looked decidedly less dead until it hit her. For once, the woman didn't look detached. She looked keenly aware and invested in that moment. "The worst is yet to come, of that you can be sure."
Apparently her goal to deliver vague, ominous warning completed, the woman vanished from the door like the mist she seemed formed from, leaving Abel with the cards. Such innocuous little things. Black backgrounds made the colorful images stand in stark contrast, creating an even more severe impression than just the images alone.
With little more than a passing thought, Abel returned to her task, putting the bottle back on the shelf. She gave little credence to tarot card readings or horoscopes. They were always so vague you could find a way to apply them to any person's situation. Crisis has been averted... you have a choice to make... the same could be said for almost anyone at any point in time if you thought hard enough. At best, such things encouraged people to change their behaviors to cause the very thing the cards "predicted", becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. Even Miren being a necromancer didn't lend much weight. If the woman could really predict the future, why'd she been working for Crocodile? She should've seen it coming.
Abel's joints protested climbing the ladder, her body feeling inordinately heavy. Pausing at the top, she rubbed her swollen ankles with her empty hand before staggering on. Fatigue was already setting in, but she was doing her best to stay occupied for a little while longer.
Dogmeat remained where she'd left him, though by now most of the crew had dispersed to go about their business. Abel thought she heard Luffy shouting something about going spelunking down one of the holes, followed by Nami and Usopp's adamant protest. Miren had disappeared as well, though that was to be expected. The woman thrived off the mystique.
Dogmeat gave little reaction aside from sniffing when Abel administered the shot in his right shoulder. Rubbing the injection sight to speed up the absorption process, Abel mused aloud, "Guess we'll see if that does anything."
Abel parked herself on the couch while Dogmeat sat at her feet, dutifully waiting for her attention. Sinking into the cushions, Abel pondered how best to go about training Dogmeat in the use of his new leg. She'd never studied physical therapy to any extent, aside from the basic understanding that humans with prosthetics had to practice using them as they weren't usually a complete one-to-one copy. There was a reason the image of pirates typically came with peg-legs and hook-hands.
Actually... Abel realized, raising her gaze to Sanji's back. The cook was busy washing dishes. "Question, Bullseye."
"Anything for you, Abel-dono!" Sanji crooned, immediately giving Abel his undivided attention, soap suds still clinging to his hands.
"You were with Zeff when he lost his leg, correct?"
Clearly not the question he'd been expecting, Sanji flinched, his tone immediately becoming more dour. "Yeah..." It came out almost like a question, as if he were afraid of what Abel might ask.
"Do you recall if he underwent any specific training, or exercises to learn to walk on his peg-leg?"
Again, Sanji blinked, surprised by the question. However, as he glanced down at the focus of Abel's attention, it suddenly made sense. Scratching at his hair, Sanji did his best to think back all those years ago. "The old codger's pretty stubborn, so he didn't really let anyone help him, not even the doctor. All the money he'd saved was for the ship, so he could barely afford a wooden leg." The blond gave a snort as he recalled Zeff's early days without his leg, pushing down the pang the image always brought. "Crazy old git would stumble around on his own, trying to play it off like it wasn't hard at first. Too full of pride." Abel resisted the urge to comment.
Zeff tried to act unfazed, and maybe in comparison to reaching the brink of starvation, it was nothing. Sanji probably wasn't the best judge, because he'd only known Zeff very briefly before he cut off his leg, but it was hard to forget that prideful swagger of a pirate who knew he was good. Even after years, Zeff always had a limp, though the man could move when he needed to. And Sanji would never forget that kick. After getting his peg-leg, Zeff's kicks were never quite as strong, even with wood replacing flesh and bone. Sanji only felt the full force of Zeff's kicks once, but it was enough to engrain it in his memory.
Abel remained silent, allowing Sanji to sort through his memories. She knew his relationship with Zeff was complicated. Actually, it wasn't; the two men were just too stubborn to openly admit they cared about each other. Abel felt the corners of her lips twitch. Was it any wonder Sanji was so quote-unquote hostile toward men? Honestly, if she hadn't been told otherwise, Abel would have no trouble believing Sanji was Zeff's biological son.
It wasn't until Dogmeat huffed, growing impatient with the silence, that Sanji came out of his thoughts. "Sorry..." he apologized, blushing slightly as he bowed his head, wondering how long he'd been lost in thought while Abel watched.
"Anyway... Zeff just kinda learned by doing. He did what he could and adapted when he couldn't. Like, he always used his right leg to kick, even though that was his grounding leg, because he couldn't ground well enough with it." Abel nodded, understanding what he meant. She'd observed Zeff's technique during the fight with Krieg's pirates. It made sense he wouldn't use a leg he couldn't feel as his grounding leg. Sanji must've learned that habit from Zeff as well, because she'd noticed that, while he could kick equally as well with both legs, Sanji tended to prefer to use his left, grounding with his right.
Sanji lowered his eyes. "Sorry I couldn't be of more help."
Abel shook her head. "You told me plenty. It's similar to when I was learning to use a bow. At first, it's such a foreign thing, it takes a lot of conscious effort to use properly. But now, I don't even have to think. It's just become an extension of my body. I can feel where my shots will go." Abel crossed her arms, sitting back. "We'll just have to practice getting him used to his new leg by forcing him to rely on it. Make his mind expand, so to speak, to include it."
"Abel-dono is so clever!" Sanji cooed, though in truth he was happier that he could be of some small help to the normally taciturn huntress. That she would even ask for his help spoke volumes.
Abel spent the rest of the day doing various exercises with her dog, to help him process that he had a new leg he could control. She began simple enough, sitting on the couch and picking his front legs up. She alternated leveraging both legs around, manipulating the left, then the right. At first, Dogmeat would look confused by the metal leg moving his body, sniffing at the leg like it wasn't attached to him. But eventually he gave no reaction when she manipulated his shoulder via the prosthetic. Abel was sure to praise him thoroughly when that happened. She couldn't give him treats as a reward, so praise would have to suffice. Thankfully, Dogmeat seemed to live to make Abel happy.
From there, she moved on to testing if he would move the leg on his own. Not walk on it, but just move it. Having Dogmeat sit on the couch with her, Abel first held his left foot up above where he would be comfortable. After a few seconds, as predicted, Dogmeat tugged his leg from her loose grip. His reward was praise and ear rubs.
After a few more trials with the left leg, until he began pulling his leg from her grip as soon as she touched it, Abel switched to his right leg. She had to hold the leg up higher than she did with his left, because he needed to feel an uncomfortable strain on his shoulder to encourage him to pull his leg from her grip.
At first, Dogmeat tried to just move his entire body, but Abel's hand kept him in place. After some whining, Dogmeat finally used solely his right shoulder to pull his leg from her grip. "Good boy!" Abel enthused, giving him a good side body scratch. Dogmeat's tongue hung out in a wide smile. And when Abel repeated it on his right leg again, this time it didn't take Dogmeat long to pull it back down. As the heavy limb hit her leg, Abel praised, "Such a good boy!" Dogmeat's tail wagged so hard his haunches wiggled.
With some practice, Dogmeat eventually began to understand that he could move his shoulder, something he hadn't had to do since his rebirth. He even stretched both legs out in front during a particularly good scratch, drawing himself up in a downward dog pose.
Seated on the floor, Abel held something behind her back. Dogmeat sat in front of her, sitting up properly. Abel was glad to see he was already starting to adapt his posture to the new leg, his front legs positioned roughly under his shoulders, rather than how he sat before with his left leg closer in to support his weight. Abel held her palm out toward the dog. "Shake," she commanded, before taking his left leg and slowly raising it up to shake. From behind her back, Abel squeezed the Foxy toy that Dogmeat loved, his ears perking at the familiar squeak. Placing his foot down, Abel offered the toy from behind her back, allowing Dogmeat to gnaw on it for a moment.
Prying it away from him, Abel hid it again, laughing as he tried to follow by stretching his neck out. This time, when Abel gave the command of, "Shake," she didn't immediately take his paw, instead giving him a moment to process. When he gave no response, Abel repeated the taking of the paw, squeezing the toy, then giving it to him. The next time, Dogmeat seemed to understand the command, but whined, unsure how to accomplish it on his own, so Abel did it for him. And the next round Dogmeat, ever so carefully, leaned his weight to the right, raising his left paw to rest in Abel's hand. "Good boy!" Abel extolled, eagerly handing the toy over. As Dogmeat squeaked the toy enthusiastically, Abel rubbed his head. "What a smart boy you are." If Dogmeat's tail went any faster, he might lift off.
A few more rounds to ensure the command was fully understood, Abel moved on to the next level. This time, she held her left hand out as she commanded, "Shake." As expected, Dogmeat lifted his left leg. But rather than be rewarded, Abel shook her head. "No. Shake. This." She tapped her hand against the metal leg. The whine she received in response told her he didn't quite get it. Or at least didn't know how to comply with her wishes. Switching hands, Abel held out her right to his left again. "Shake." He did, and she praised them. Then she switched back, holding her left hand deliberately out of reach of his left. Abel saw the wheels turning in his mind, trying to work out what to do.
Eventually, Dogmeat carefully shifted his weight to his left and rotated his right shoulder up, bringing his metal leg barely off the ground. That was enough for Abel to praise him, and give him the toy. She didn't know if he'd ever have full mobility of that leg, but she at least wanted him to recognize he could use it if he needed to.
The two continued the practice uninterrupted until they both became too tired. And as getting back to her room was too far away in her current state, both master and dog settled on the couch for a little nap. Abel didn't necessarily fall asleep, hovering in that area where you're still aware of what's going on around you but it's just on the fringe of consciousness.
Abel couldn't say how much time had passed before she was awakened by the sound of someone bumping into something. Cracking an eye, she observed Leif rubbing his shin from where he must've hit it on one of the stools. It seemed he was trying not to wake Abel, and didn't know he'd already failed, based on the strained expression on his face. An expression that shifted to aghast upon noticing Abel watching him. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Abel! I didn't mean to wake you!" Tiredly, Abel just waved away his concern before shoving Dogmeat off her. He may not have body heat, but him laying on her was starting to exacerbate her fever. Hoisting herself up, Abel went to grab a glass of water.
Her visitor was tensely silent for a long while. He merely watched her, staring at her, almost expectantly. Abel did her best to ignore the strange man, but eventually his heavy gaze became too much, causing her to raise an eyebrow at him. "Sorry," he apologized again, lowering his gaze bashfully. "I was... just... curious... how you're doing. Yesterday was... rough."
"I'm not dead," was all Abel was prepared to say on the matter. The man continued to take peeks at her from the corner of his downturned eyes. "Is it safe for you to keep associating with us?" she asked instead.
"You mean the townsfolk?" Leif clarified, finally fully raising his gaze. "They're too preoccupied trying to figure out their damage control to take notice of me."
Abel nodded to herself. "You might want to consider closing up shop while you can," she suggested. "Which reminds me, I still have your files."
Leif blinked widely, clearly having forgotten that. "Oh."
She motioned for the man to follow her. "I better return them while I'm thinking about it."
"Don't strain yourself!" Leif insisted as Abel made for the door. He hovered around her, arms just out of reach, as if he expected her to keel over at any second.
Abel wasn't sure if she should be amused or annoyed, and her expression must've suggested that, given how the man pulled back. "The way my brain's been going, it's best to do it while I can still remember it."
Reluctantly, Leif followed after Abel. Hesitantly, he asked, "Have you been experiencing any... side effects?"
This question did outright amuse the hunter, earning a snort. "I'm not sure 'side effect' is the appropriate term when discussing brain damage. Residual damage, I believe, is the appropriate term."
As she entered the women's quarters, Leif remained outside. "You... didn't answer the question..." he noted.
Thankfully, the files had been left undisturbed on the bedside table where Abel had left them. She was glad, as she wasn't entirely convinced she'd remember where she put them. Scooping the folders up, Abel paused to examine the single photo left on top. She frowned as she stared at it, wondering why she left it out. She had the distinct impression she meant to ask Leif a question about it, but looking at it now, couldn't recall why. Nothing stood out in the photo to warrant further questioning. It was just a woman standing before a small classroom erasing something off the blackboard. Perfectly normal. "Miss Abel?" Leif queried.
"I feel like I had a question about this picture, but can't remember now," she answered before shrugging the feeling off. As she handed the files back, Leif's gaze lingered sadly on the photo before returning it with the rest. Not wanting to beat around the bush, feeling the man deserved a straight answer, Abel explained, "Apologies, but I was unable to glean any new data from the files that might shed light on events." It was a strange and tragic case, but not anything Abel could help with now.
She expected him to be sadder than he was, but perhaps after all this time Leif was accustomed to not getting his hopes up. Instead, he merely nodded solemnly. "I appreciate that you tried at all." Holding the file tightly, Leif set Abel with a mournful stare. "I'm sorry."
The apology genuinely surprised the hunter. "Shouldn't I be the one apologizing?"
"I meant for everything you've been through. None of you have had a good time of it, but I feel you've had it worse than anyone else. And all you've tried to do is help." Leif shrugged. "I don't know. I feel like you deserve an apology from… someone."
The sentiment was so misplaced that Abel couldn't help being amused by it. "You can't apologize for someone else's crimes."
"I know." Leif gave a little helpless shrug, staring down at the photo in his hand. "I guess I just… feel a little bad… for everyone, I mean. You, the townspeople, the cult. Fear can make people do crazy things."
"It's no excuse," Abel retorted, still lacking any generosity when it came to recent events. Trying to burn people alive out of fear was a step too far. Way too far.
"You're right," Leif said with a nod, eyes still affixed to his files. The photo, in particular. "It's no excuse… but it doesn't mean I don't understand. To yearn and strive so hard for something." His thumb rubbed against the worn photo, haloing the woman's head. "If I thought it could bring them back… or even just give me answers… I—"
"Don't," Abel interrupted, harshly and simply it broke Leif from his musings. He wilted a bit at Abel's hard, unrelenting stare. "Don't even entertain the thought. The moment you do, you've already lost."
"What?"
"The yearning. Aching for something completely beyond your reach that you're willing to call out to anyone… any thing… that might help. Oh, they'll answer, that's for sure. But you won't like the answer."
Leif swallowed, the air heavy under Abel's ominous warning. "What do you mean?"
"One." Abel held up a single finger. "One is all it takes. A single crack, the barest sliver in your mind—your will—your soul. That's all it takes for them to wiggle their way in. Then they've got you. They'll tell you everything you want to hear, pour honeyed words down your ear until you're drowning and too deep to get out. And then…" Abel clicked her fingers. "Oh, they'll give you what you want, but you won't want what you get."
The man shifted anxiously. "But don't you deal with the supernatural?" he asked. "Surely someone like you knows how—"
"There are monsters; and then there are monsters. And I'm not dumb enough to think my will is strong enough to overpower something far older than myself."
"But didn't you do that before?"
Abel's eyes narrowed. "I was strong enough to cast it out by playing by its rules, but even I would never be so arrogant to think I could manipulate it." Abel felt her composure slipping, but she couldn't help it. She'd never forget those dark, wolfish, inhuman eyes so long as she lived.
Feeling too much anxious energy building up, Abel grasped Leif by the arm and dragged him from the room. She forcefully led him over to where Zoro was standing, leaning against the railing. The swordsman stood sharply at attention when he saw the dark anger in Abel's eyes, scowl immediately shifting the man she dragged behind her. Practically tossing Leif into Zoro, Abel demanded, "Leave."
"L-Leave?" Leif stuttered, completely caught off guard. By this point, everyone gathered on the ship had taken note of the exchange and watched on with trepidation.
"Don't make me repeat myself. Leave. This ship. This island. This obsession. Leave it all… while you still have any choice in the matter." Abel clenched her hands to hide the shaking.
Turning her back on them, Abel stormed off to the cabin again. "Wait! Miss Abel-!"
Zoro didn't let the man go after her, however, clamping a strong hand on his shoulder. "I think you need to leave," Zoro commanded, not suggested, standing behind the man. He didn't know what had happened, but it was rare to see Abel angry. And it was usually justified.
Abel rubbed her arms as she sat up, shivering in bed. A glance at the clock told her it was well into the evening hours, and she'd accidentally slept through dinner. A fact her stomach was eager to remind her of. Despite the long sleeves, goosebumps dotted her arms in the cool night air, but it wasn't the chill mixing with her fever that had her shivering. Abel scowled into the darkness at another nights' disturbed sleep. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, honestly. After losing her temper at Leif, Abel had wanted to avoid everyone for a while. She knew no one would care that she lost her temper from time to time, especially given everything that's happened... but she didn't like it. Abel prided herself in staying in control, and always felt a bit awkward and self-conscious when that control slipped. She knew it was entirely in her own head, but that was just her nature.
She'd been trying so hard to act like she was already asleep when someone came to check on her that she actually fell asleep. The dream that woke her wasn't necessarily a nightmare, like the others. But the ending had shaken her a bit—quite literally. It had started innocently enough, though now Abel couldn't recall all of it. She'd been wandering around a city exploring, with someone guiding her. It might've been Leif, but Abel honestly couldn't place it now if the person had even been male or female. Just impressions of someone giving her a tour, walking the streets, even going inside empty buildings. Actually, thinking about it now, the city had been empty. It might've even been Ravensburg, as Abel remembered the buildings being of similar design, except it had been daylight. If it had been Ravensburg, the city was very pretty in the light. Not that she had any real way of knowing that.
It had all been innocuous enough, nothing out of the ordinary... except the eye. Through the entire dream, Abel had been keenly aware of a single eye floating in the sky following them. There'd been a star-like shape around it, with the eye seemingly growing from the middle. The pupil was black, or at least a very dark brown, and almost took up the entire eye, with only the barest slivers of white around the edges. Abel hadn't been afraid of the eye, per se, but had done her best to ignore it until the very end, when she point-blank asked, "What's the deal with the eye?"
Her guide, maybe-Leif, had looked at her and said, simply, "Oh, that's the eye of god."
Abel had felt her body shaking even in her dream, and that feeling was what ultimately roused her. Abel clutched her arms, willing her body to calm down. If anyone else had been awake to witness it, they might've thought she was having a seizure. Hell, maybe it was. But the fact that Abel remained perfectly coherent told her it probably wasn't. Damn Leif, Abel thought, blaming the man's stupidity for priming her mind to have such dreams. Even now, she still felt angry about his ramblings and questions. She got it—the temptation to turn to forces beyond your understanding to bring back a loved one or get closure. But nothing good ever came of it. Even the most benevolent entity shouldn't be trifled with.
Her anger was entirely personal on this matter. And it wasn't just because of what happened with the basilisk and her theory about the cult activity poisoning her home. She may never have any proof of it, but Abel was convinced that He had been responsible for her parents' death. He had been trapped in the room where their dead bodies had been found, and immediately upon release went after the sisters. It had felt too personal, too focused to just be a random, malicious attack. Maybe, if people would stop being arrogant and thinking they could overpower or outsmart forces beyond their understanding, her parents would be alive. Regardless, Abel had a strong sense of pattern recognition, and had encountered too many stories of idiots thinking they could control spirits, only for it to bite them in the end.
Dogmeat's whine brought Abel back to the present. The hound was actually in his bed this time, curled up into a ball, watching his master with a concerned puppy face. As the shaking stopped, Abel patted him on the head in reassurance before heading to the galley to appease her empty stomach. If she knew Sanji, he would've left a plate in the fridge for her. Abel heard Dogmeat plodding along behind her. She heard the heavy tap of the metal leg. Glancing over her shoulder, she observed that he was using it to walk, but clearly wasn't proficient in it yet, still hobbling uncertainly. But it was progress.
The lights were on in the galley, causing Abel to peer in through the porthole to see who else was up. She only caught a glimpse of Solomon standing at the counter, back to her. He didn't notice her entry, allowing her to observe him trying to peel an apple with his damaged hands. Shutting the door behind her, Abel commented, "Doc'll have Bullseye fillet you if he finds out you've been using your hands." Her sudden presence when he'd obviously been trying to be quiet startled the man, causing Solomon to drop the knife, sending it clattering to the ground. "That's another ten lashes," Abel joked about the mistreatment of kitchen equipment.
"Abel-san! You scared me!" Solomon gasped, holding a hand to his racing chest, though wincing from the act.
"So I gathered," Abel drawled, carefully leaning to pick up the knife. As she rinsed it off, she added, "If you move your hands too much, it can cause the blisters to pop and get infected." Without waiting for a response, or giving an explanation, Abel held her free hand toward her brother-in-law. Solomon blinked, unsure at first, before offering the poorly peeled apple over. Taking it, Abel explained, "Caine is already a handful as is; you can't afford to go losing one."
As she leaned back against the counter and set to peeling the apple, Solomon rocked awkwardly on his heels, resisting the urge to fidget with his hands. Instead, he just held them loosely together in front of his chest. Watching Abel's slow movements brought a thought to mind. He gave a little chuckle, saying, "This reminds me of the first time we ever talked, one-on-one."
"You mean the first time I ever threatened you?"
It was true. It was a little after he'd begun to act on his feelings for Caine, tentative at first though they might have been. At the beginning, Caine didn't seem to pick up on it, maybe because she didn't ever expect anyone to be interested in her. But Abel was more perceptive, and Solomon knew from the looks she gave him that she knew. He came by one afternoon, honestly just to ask their father about something, to find Abel in the kitchen. She must've been back from a hunting trip, because her bow had been on the table. Abel had been cutting up some fruit at the table, glancing up when he came in through the back. "My sister's not here," she said in greeting.
The silent accusation worried him a little, but he tried to play it off. "I came to talk to Bastion-sensei."
"He's at work." Abel glanced at the clock. "He'll be home for lunch in five."
"Oh! Is it okay if I wait, then?"
"Why not? You've been making yourself at home with everything else."
Solomon flinched, the chair he'd been pulling out squeaking on the floor, suddenly feeling very unwelcomed. He laughed to play off the awkwardness. "Yes, your dad's been very gracious in sharing his wisdom."
"He likes having a pupil. Though that graciousness doesn't extend toward children." How could the temperature in the room suddenly feel freezing and burning up at the same time? He, uh... couldn't really play off that one. So he didn't try, hoping he could feign ignorance.
The two didn't exchange another word, with Abel continuing her meal prep and Solomon trying not to bolt from his seat. His head snapped up when he saw Abel leaning forward, feeling his shoulders relax when she merely grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table. Yes, the Bastion family had an honest-to-goodness bowl of fruit on the table. Abel proceeded to peel the apple with a thin perry knife, rolling the fruit around with practiced ease. It actually impressed Solomon at how delicate the peeling was, cutting just deep enough to remove the peel from the meat inside without wasting any. It wasn't until he'd noticed Abel watching him as she worked from beneath her lashes, catching his gaze before poignantly looking back at her work, before the deliberateness of her actions sunk in. If she could peel the skin off an apple that easily, what could she do to him? He'd seen Abel prepare a deer with her hunter teachers before. Suddenly he was the captured prey, dangling from his feet while Abel precisely cut into the neck to drain his blood.
"Oh, Solomon." Said boy nearly leapt from his seat as Josiah entered the kitchen. Failing to notice the tension in the room, the doctor smiled. "This is a surprise. Did you need something?"
"Oh! Ah... yes... um..."
Obliviously, Abel's father replied, "Very good. We can talk over lunch." Josiah walked over and gave his daughter a kiss on the head, causing her to smile up at him, cleanly peeled apple in hand. Setting a hand on her shoulder, Josiah offered, "Would you like to stay for lunch?"
While Josiah's offer was nothing but kind, the smile his daughter leveled him with was anything but. Solomon suddenly understood how animals could become paralyzed under the watchful, intentful gaze of a predator. It didn't help that she appeared to be holding the naked apple out to him, as if showing evidence. "Uh... actually... I just remembered I needed to pick up something for Mother. I'll meet you at your clinic later to talk." He didn't wait for the doctor's response before he bolted like a startled deer from the room.
Present Abel simply looked tired as she held the peeled and plated fruit up to Solomon. He mumbled a quiet thanks, taking the plate and leaving the woman to wash the knife again. Eventually Abel joined him at the table with a leftover plate of food Sanji had set aside, saved from the captain's ravenous hunger by the lock on the fridge. The two ate in silence, with only Dogmeat's sniffing and tapping breaking through.
Not really thinking much, Abel let her gaze lazily move around the room, until it fell on Solomon's hands. The bandages were starting to come loose, possibly from his earlier efforts. Abel could go wake up Chopper to take care of it, but... Sighing, Abel stood, leaving her plate unfinished as she headed into the infirmary. She spared a glance toward her sleeping sister, a small smirk pulling at her lips. Charlie had curled up behind her sister, right in the small of her back, forcing Caine to unconsciously arch her back to make room for him. She'd have quite a crick in her spine tomorrow. Mindful not to wake the sleeping duo, Abel retrieved her supplies and headed back, sliding the door shut silently behind her so the light from the galley wouldn't disturb them.
Solomon watched in surprise as Abel laid her supplies on the table. "Is your head hurting again?" he asked, assuming they were for Abel to retreat her wound.
"Not me. You," Abel corrected. With little ceremony, she ordered, "Let's see 'em." Had she not felt so drained, it would've amused her how aghast the man looked then. "Your hands, genius." It was hard to be too mean when staring into the peeling skinned-face of the man who'd saved her sister.
"Oh!" He actually tried to hide his hands then. "You don't have to-"
"Yeah, I don't have to, but I'm gonna." Raising a challenging brow was the only further nudge he needed, and Solomon hesitantly rested his hands out on the table, palms up.
Carefully, Abel snipped the bandages, revealing the skin beneath. His hands looked about what Abel would expect for one day post-burn injury; that being not pleasant. The skin along his fingers was bright pink from where the top layer of the epidermis had burnt away, and Abel could see the clear boundaries between the damaged and undamaged skin. The pink dermis now exposed looked wet, though whether that was from the ointment or drainage she didn't know, and gave the appearance of being stretched too thin on his hands. The edges of the palm, below where the fingers attached and the outer meaty part, had begun to blister, the skin puffing up into fluidy sacks. Those areas must've come into the most direct contact with the fire. While distressing and uncomfortable, this was actually a good thing, as blisters formed when the body directs extra nutrients, fluids and white cells to damaged areas. If left undisturbed, the blisters would eventually shrink, possibly leaving a permanent scar but otherwise fully heal.
Abel noted that one of the blisters, on the meat of his thumb on the right hand, had ruptured. This was probably from trying to use the knife. The sac burst, it now oozed an off-color fluid mixed in with a bit of blood. The skin that had formed the pocket lay shriveled, exposing an open wound on the palm, bloody red skin visible below.
Making a displeased noise, Abel pulled Solomon over to the sink. Keeping the water at room temperature, she ran his hands under the water, cleaning them, paying special attention to the popped blister. She didn't so much as dry them as she placed a towel on his palms before removing it to absorb some water. From there, she applied fresh ointment to the damaged skin. She added a pad to the palms for extra cushioning before wrapping both hands securely, tight enough to protect but not so tight to restrict.
The entire time, Solomon was afraid to breathe, lest he break whatever spell had made Abel so generous. Things had cooled considerably since their initial interactions, but he still wouldn't expect Abel to go out of her way to help him. At best, he'd say she tolerated him.
Abel had just finished tying off the bandages when there came a knock at the galley door. This startled all parties in the room, and their eyes immediately flew to the door. By the table, Dogmeat sat straight up, a low, uncertain growl welling up. Gaze drifting from the dog back to the door, Abel grabbed the knife from earlier, stalking closer. Solomon followed, checking inside the infirmary, but finding nothing disturbed. Knife in hand, Abel peered through the porthole, but couldn't see much thanks to the glare of the light inside. With some hesitance, she flicked the lights off, letting her see better out into the gloom. Not that it did any good, as she couldn't see anything other than just the deck.
Another knock at the door she leaned against sent the hunter jumping back, memories of the nightmare in the bath house flashing before her. Dogmeat continued to growl anxiously. Abel knew for a fact no one on this ship knocked, which left very few welcomed guests possible.
Dog at her side and knife in hand, Abel grasped the handle hard. Taking a breath, prepared for anything, she jerked the door open. Any plans for attack were fruitless, however, as there was no one at the door. Abel frowned out into the dark but ultimately empty air. Still gripping the knife, she peered out to check around the corners, when her foot hit something. Stepping back, Abel stared down at their "visitor". A doll sat on the ground.
Even without automatonophobia, a doll just randomly appearing in your home would be weird. But to make matters worse, she recognized it. Abel hesitated a moment before picking the doll up, all instincts to the contrary ignored. The doll looked new, porcelain face and white petticoat crisp and clean. It looked like a little Victorian girl, with matching white frilly bonnet over her blonde hair, white frilly frock, white stockings and white dress shoes. Slightly pink, pudgy cheeks stood out under surprisingly dark brown, glassy eyes. Ironically, despite being a doll, she looked more alive than most of the townsfolk. Her head and extremities might've been porcelain, but her body was soft, as Abel felt the gritty, hefty weight of sand or buckwheat stuffing.
Before she could examine it further, Dogmeat ran out of the room to the railing and began barking at something on the shore. Abel felt equal parts apprehensive and annoyed when she spotted the robbed figures lining the shore. Normally, black cloaked figures would be hard to see on the dark, rocky shore. But it seemed the cultists had decided to update their wardrobe for the new spring season, ditching the dreary and clichéd black for white. Not so good for going unnoticed, but still surprisingly intimidating. They stood far enough away to not be an immediate threat, just faintly visible through the fog. It looked like the face covering had some sort of symbol on it, but they were too far away to tell.
Naturally, the commotion had brought the others out of sleep. "What's all the noise about?" Sanji was complaining, climbing up to where Abel stood beside the railing. "Is everything okay, Abel-dono?" The lack of response drew Sanji's attention to the shore, where he sucked in a breath.
"Fuckers," Zoro growled, coming up from behind. Abel didn't look away, but heard the rattling of him adjusting his swords.
Never one to back down, their captain climbed onto the railing to face their guests. Puffing out his chest, he shouted, "You wanna fight!? I'll take you all on!" He was done playing nice. They'd hurt his friends.
The figures didn't respond, not that anyone was really expecting them to. Instead, they seemed to simply... drift away, fading into the fog without seeming to move. "Oh, no you don't!" Luffy cried, not about to let them get away to cause more trouble.
"Luffy, don't!" Nami snapped, yanking the boy down by the back of the shirt. As he crashed onto the deck, Nami chastised, "They probably ducked down one of those sinkholes! Someone like you would never find their way out!"
"But they hurt Abel," Luffy argued back.
"We should post a watch," Robin wisely suggested.
Nami nodded, "She's right. We just need to stay away from these creeps until the log pose sets. Then we can get the hell out of here." She glared at the others, emphasizing her point and leaving little room for argument. "Right!?"
"Yes, Nami-san!" Sanji enthusiastically agreed, while Luffy and Zoro weren't quite as pleased.
"If they show up again, I'm gonna kick their asses, no matter what you say," Luffy stubbornly insisted.
Nami sighed. "If they come on the ship, you can do whatever you want."
While the others argued about whether they should or shouldn't pursue the cult, Abel looked back down at the doll still in her hands. She wasn't one to keep dolls on a good day. But when it's a doll from a dream you had delivered by a group of demon-worshipping, human-experimenting, baby-kidnapping cultists... well... "Fuck that noise." Against her better judgement, Abel drew back and chucked the doll into the dark sea.
Sleep wouldn't be possible for most of the crew following that incident, so after checking that Caine was still fine, Sanji set about making a strong pot of coffee. The swordswoman was fine, though she'd been woken up by the commotion, complaining of a sore back. Though he insisted it was too early for a full breakfast, Sanji did put out some freshly sliced fruit to go with the coffee. Not in the mood for something hot to go with her fever, Abel opted for some tangerine juice, though honestly was mostly trying to stay awake. Despite the spike in adrenaline, her body still demanded rest.
Because of this, Abel drifted in and out of the conversation, head down on the bar. Normally, some of the others would fuss at her to just go to bed, but she had a sense they were wanting to keep an eye on her. While she didn't like being the center of attention (and worry) for her crew, she couldn't deny she'd be acting the same way if the roles were reversed.
"I still don't get the big deal about being twins." Perhaps it was being the subject of Luffy's declaration that drew Abel's attention from near slumber. While she didn't raise her head from where it was cradled in her arms, her attention did perk up.
Abel heard Nami's long-suffering sigh. "Abel already told us why before. Being a twin is symbolic, and for superstitious people like this, that means something."
Abel could practically hear her captain pout. "It's still dumb. Just 'cause two people are born at the same time doesn't make them special."
"Do you know what makes a twin, a twin, Boss?" Abel asked, finally joining the conversation, but still not raising her head.
After a second's thought, Luffy answered, "Looking just alike?"
Abel couldn't help but smile at the expected response. "Yes, but why do we look alike?"
"Because you're twins."
Sensing they were just going to keep circling around the same point, Abel pushed herself up, stretching as she did. "Monozygotic, or identical twins, are identical because we were once a single person." Stretching her arms over her head felt good, and her shoulders popped a few times.
Spinning around on the bar seat to face them better, Abel began, "Without getting too deep into the birds and bees, as that's outside my pay grade, identical twins all begin as a single baby that, at some point, multiplies and splits into two distinct yet identical versions." That was a gross oversimplification of the process, but Abel knew a more nuanced explanation would be lost on some of the others and just, frankly, didn't have the energy for it. "The exact reason why this happens isn't fully known, though multiple births do tend to run in families, so it appears to have a genetic component. Even before this scientific information was known, people always had a sense that twins were once one person."
"What does this have to do with the whole cultishness thing?" Usopp asked.
"Allow me to answer that question with another question: At what point does a person become a person? Or more precisely, at what point does a person have a soul?" This question appeared to stump her friends, though she'd expected nothing less. It wasn't an easy question to answer, and many people had various opinions, including whether or not humans even had a "soul" to begin with. "If you subscribe to the belief that a person develops a soul from the moment of conception, what does that mean when that baby splits into two, a process that occurs later?"
To illustrate and punctuate her point, Abel clasped her hands together, folding her fingers into a ball. "One soul..." She then pulled her hands apart, making two separate fists. "Splits into two." She paused then, waiting for a look of comprehension to pass through the others' faces. "That is why people can be weird about twins. Some people believe twins don't have souls of their own, but are rather two halves of a singular soul. That they are literally one person split in half. And that is why there are so many strange beliefs surrounding identical twins. Even something as innocuous as believing twins have some special, telepathic connection to each other stems from that belief."
Chopper tilted his head. "What do you think?"
"I've never known any version of myself other than what I've been," was Abel's roundabout reply. "If there's something different about my soul, I have no way of knowing, as the only experience I have is what I'm already aware of. I suppose that would be for others to determine."
"Well, you are a little strange," Luffy replied.
While Abel could only laugh at the statement, Nami and Sanji were less kindly disposed, hitting and kicking their captain respectively. "You're one to talk!" they both shouted. "What's your excuse!?"
"Even if there was some way to ascertain that there's something fundamentally wrong with my soul, between our unusual birth, family history and life experiences, it would be impossible to determine which was the cause." Between being cut out of a mother who'd been dead for days after being sealed in a room where something supernatural had probably killed their parents due to their monster-hunting lineage, battling a damned soul in her youth and numerous other encounters with the supernatural, being a twin was the least of Abel's worries. Hell, it was nothing short of a miracle she was as sane as she was.
Ignoring the bickering, Robin asked more seriously, "Do you think they intend to rejoin your souls together?" Wouldn't that be the obvious point of using twins?
"Who knows?" Abel answered. "Perhaps they think this incompleteness makes us more susceptible. Their intentions don't concern me quite as much as their... motivation. The lengths they're willing to go is where we should be focused." It didn't matter what they were trying to do or why, but that they were willing to go to such great lengths and kept coming.
Leaving talk about hypothetical souls aside, the crew began discussing more practical protections. They only had to last three more days before they could kiss this island goodbye and never look back. As tempting as it was to take the fight to the cult, they had the advantage. Mounting a strong defense was their best course right now. While the others came up with a guard rotation, Abel helped Franky and Usopp develop some defenses to put along the shore. She wasn't up to helping them build, but she could at least contribute ideas and help determine the best locations for the traps. It didn't take their shipwright long to whip up what were essentially hunting traps to dot along the shore. Leaving traps out in the open normally wasn't a smart idea, but thanks to the ever-present darkness, they would be hard to see, even if you were looking for them.
The Mini Merry was already proving her worth, ferrying the group to the rocky coast. Thankfully, the Sunny was moored too far from the coast to reach by any means but boat. The current was quite strong here, so anchoring closer would risk being pushed into the jagged shore. That meant they shouldn't have to worry about people sneaking on board... though someone must have to get the doll there.
The coastline was every bit as treacherous as Leif had warned. The strong currents had eroded the rocks at irregular angles, causing them to jut out randomly into sharp points, like an angry porcupine. Even in a small vessel like the Mini Merry, they had to find a good place to go ashore. The wind whipped around Abel, pulling at her baggy, loose clothes as she let Usopp help pull her aground. The ocean sprayed up around them, making the rocks wet and slippery. Combined with the sharp edges, that meant slipping could prove disastrous. Franky nearly fell into one of the old tunnels, as it had been covered by the water. His only saving grace is he'd fallen sideways, so was able to catch himself before being sucked into the watery grave.
They searched the coast for the most likely tunnels the cultists used. Abel stood atop an outcropping, arms wrapped around her frame as she stared back at the ship. Although her fever had gone down, it was still enough to make the brisk wind feel biting at her skin. Squinting, she carefully stepped back a few paces until the ship looked about as far away as the cultists had. "This should be about it," she advised, turning to the guys.
Franky and Usopp scattered the traps around, focusing around where the tunnels were, obscuring the metal monstrosities with dips in the stone and other natural formations. "Just make sure we don't step on them by mistake," Usopp warned.
"Bad memories?" Abel quipped, perched on a lumpy stone.
It took Usopp a second to get what Abel was referring to. "That was Nami, not me!" he protested, remembering all the way back to when they'd gotten trapped by his caltrops thanks to the redhead's "enthusiasm".
"If we had the lumber to spare, I'd barricade these suckers up," Franky commented.
"Maybe we should leave the lights running?" Usopp suggested. "Maybe it'd scare them off."
"Ain't got the power to keep 'em going that long," Franky rebutted. Normally supplies while they were on an island wasn't an issue. But with the town in an uproar, they couldn't risk a shopping trip.
"Best to use them sparingly if we hear something," Abel agreed. "It might not scare them off, but I'd wager it'll blind them."
Despite the relatively menial work, it wasn't long before Abel began to feel fatigued again. Franky took her back to the ship before returning to finish up his work. As much as Abel wanted to follow Chopper's advice about sticking to a normal sleep schedule, her body was simply too exhausted. Between expending all its resources to heal her and the constant dreams, Abel wasn't getting much quality of sleep, so she'd just have to sleep more to try to compensate. She wondered if this was why Zoro napped so much. Actually, he slept through storms with not so much as a twitch, so probably not. Her bed felt too nice to ignore as she curled under the covers and quickly drifted off.
Abel knew she was in bed. And not because she could see she was in bed. No, that was the dream part. She was dreaming about being in bed while sleeping in her bed. It was one of those rare, weird dreams where she knew she was dreaming. She could actually feel her body, her back sunken into her mattress. She could feel her body's position, her limbs feeling heavy and unmoving. Why she'd moved to lie in corpse pose, she didn't know. Abel was a side sleeper, but she had been restless so it wasn't that weird. Dreaming about lying in bed while she knew her real body was lying in bed was new, though. But given how frequently she'd been slipping into dreams without realizing it, knowing she was dreaming was a bit of a relief.
Dream Abel tilted her head, noticing something at the foot of the bed. Her surroundings outside of the confines of the bed were blurry, like she'd left her camera unfocused, so something suddenly coming into view was very eye-catching. Both dream and real Abel felt their stomachs plummet when they realized it was rats. Of course. Even in her dreams, she wasn't safe from the Rattus Infantem Manducans. Now very aware that this was rapidly turning into another nightmare, dream Abel willed herself to wake up. She focused on the feeling of her real body, but her limbs just wouldn't cooperate. Move, she commanded, knowing that if she could move her brain would wake up. While she knew this was a dream, she didn't want to experience whatever was about to go down.
Sadly, both her brain and body seemed to be against her, as her muscles refused to move while her brain pressed on. Damn REM sleep.
The rats began to crawl up the bed, their nails biting into Abel's legs. Her skin prickled. It wasn't painful, but in the real world Abel imagined her skin breaking into goosebumps. That's what it felt like here. She felt the prickly sensation climbing up her legs, onto her torso, following the same path as the rats. Move, Abel told herself again, trying as hard as she could to imagine her limbs moving. But despite the increased, visceral sensation, her muscles remained lax.
Up her torso they climbed, and over her arms. The sensation of something crawling up her arms was too real, and moving up to her chest. Move!
Abel gasped, eyes darting around the room. She stood next to her bed, skin still crawling, gawking at the covers pooled around her feet. Had she... did she just jumped out of bed in her sleep? Abel rubbed at her arms, willing the tingling to go away. Dogmeat whined at her from the foot of the bed, obviously disturbed by the disruption. That was... new. It honestly amazed her that she hadn't tripped on the covers. It was more than a bit jarring, actually. Being asleep in the throes of a nightmare one second then upright and awake the next. Assuming she was even awake now.
Abel growled, rubbing her face hard in her hands. This was getting ridiculous. Was she really getting to the point where she couldn't even tell dreams from awake? Brain, I love you, but hurry up and heal.
Abel heaved out a sigh, letting her hands drop. Well, she was awake now, she guessed.
Zoro had been peacefully enjoying his nap when the interruption came. One minute, sound asleep. The next, huffing as something heavy fell on him. His hands almost went for his swords, had he not felt the soft hair pressing against his chin. Now wide awake, Zoro craned his head down as best he could to stare at Abel. As if sensing his question, she mumbled into his shoulder, "I can't sleep."
Paying attention was a teensy bit difficult, what with Abel sprawled out on top of him. She felt warm and solid atop him, soft between her clothes and womanly curves. Her weight didn't bother him in the slightest, but he did stupidly glance around the room, as if there would actually be someone else up here. No one but him ever came up here unless they were on watch. He'd more or less claimed it as his own space.
Coming back to the matter at hand... or chest, in this case, Zoro kept his hands awkwardly in the air, unsure where to move them. "You've been doing nothing but sleeping," he answered at length.
Abel shook her head, and Zoro had to ignore how nice the sensation of her hair shifting to tickle his neck felt. "Correction: I have been attempting to sleep. But my brain doesn't want to cooperate and apparently feels the need to process all the traumas at once." Although her tone and choice of words was flippant, the irritation Zoro felt from her was very real. Troubles falling asleep wasn't something Zoro could really empathize with, but he understood the annoyance of trying to sleep. No wonder she was so cranky.
Unsure what else to do, Zoro let his hands lay on the back of Abel's arms, idly sinking into the soft fabric of her shirt. He let her lay there, not really sure what to do. From how still she was, he almost thought she had fallen asleep, but she would shift ever now and then. Eventually, he suggested, "Mediate with me."
Abel snorted, and Zoro winced at her breath on his neck. "That's a euphemism I haven't heard before."
A blush and a scowl warred on Zoro's face, though Abel couldn't see it. "I mean seriously." Zoro didn't need help to sleep, but he knew other people would meditate to relax and sleep better. Maybe that would help. Besides, it might be kinda fun to have Abel meditate with him. They didn't always get to do a lot of shared activities together that didn't involve fighting or adventuring. Usually it would be Zoro resting and Abel working on something in the same space together.
"I've never been able to quiet my mind for that long," Abel admitted, sensing he wasn't joking. While she may be a relatively quiet person, especially in comparison to some of the others, Abel's mind was always working.
Zoro shifted up a bit, forcing Abel to wrap her arms around him to not fall over. Trying not to focus too much on the warmth around him, Zoro replied, "It's not about not thinking. It's more about accepting the thoughts that come without the need to judge them. To just..." Zoro literally grasped for the words. "About stepping back and taking things as they come." He'd never tried to explain it to anyone, so he stumbled over the words.
Abel made a sound like she wasn't fully convinced, but Zoro had made up his mind. Without letting her protest, Zoro returned her gesture, wrapping his arms around Abel and standing. Maybe he enjoyed the startled noise she made a little too much for his own good. Easily manhandling her, Zoro dropped one of the bench cushions on the ground. He didn't need anything to sit on now, but when he started, Zoro remembered it was hard to sit on the hard ground for long until he got used to it. Zoro lowered Abel onto the cushion, her legs naturally falling into a loose cobbler's pose on the way down. When he stepped back, Abel stared up at him with one brow raised. She didn't look offended or put out, just... bemused. He could sense a quip coming, so he decided to cut her off.
Kicking his boots off, Zoro sat in front of Abel in a lotus position, folding his legs underneath him. "It's easiest to start sitting cross-legged," he instructed. Abel continued to eye the swordsman, but complied, drawing her legs in. Thanks to the pillow beneath her, her hips sat a little higher than her legs. "Keep your posture up but not rigid, and rest your hands where they're comfortable." Abel shifted around a bit before sitting in an attentive but relaxed position, letting her hands rest down on her thighs. "Good," Zoro nodded. "Now close your eyes and just concentrate on what I'm saying."
Abel found the entire experience amusing, but she was willing to play ball, so to speak. After all the things Zoro indulged her in, she could humor him. Besides, she could think of worse things than getting to listen to Zoro's voice. So, she closed her eyes. "Good. Now pay attention to your breathing. Try to breathe more through your stomach." Abel followed his instructions, trying to center her attention on the sensation of her chest rising and falling, but she must've been doing it wrong, because she soon heard Zoro shuffling around.
The sensation of Zoro coming to sit directly behind her was certainly not an unpleasant one, though she did raise a brow when she felt his large hands resting on her lower ribcage, right in the dip of her waist. "You're breathing into your chest. Try to breathe into your diaphragm. Try to make your stomach and lower ribs expand out."
As Zoro shifted his hands, Abel teased, "Careful, there." She chuckled as she felt Zoro's hands quickly shift back down when he realized she wasn't wearing anything beneath her long sweater. She liked to imagine Zoro flushing adorably, but he shifted closer, bringing his mouth closer to her ear. Abel flinched slightly then, eyes popping open. She would've turned to face the man, but his head was right next to hers. Did he just... Did Zoro just bite her? And why wasn't she more bothered. Well, maybe meditation isn't as bad as I thought.
Abel would've been surprised at how hard it was to focus on one specific thing, had she not already been aware of how unruly her mind could be. Not that she was ever short on attention, but she typically needed a specific task to focus on. Working on her book or some project. Thinking about not thinking felt counterintuitive.
That being said, Zoro's presence might just be the motivation she needed to get it done. Or was he being a distraction? Because it was quite easy to allow her senses to focus exclusively on his hands on her waist. Without the protection of her normal garments, the incredible heat he always seemed to generate sunk easily into her flesh, both relaxing and stimulating her nerves. His hands spanned her floating ribs, pressing firmly in an innocent attempt to encourage her breathing. Resolutely they remained within their safe zone, neither too high or too low. Yet Abel couldn't help imagining how easily he could just hoist her up. Abel never thought she had any sort of power fetish, but Zoro was making her learn a lot of things about herself. Then again, those things were probably just her attraction to him.
Oh, right. She was supposed to be doing something, wasn't she?
As tempting as it was to tease that he was distracting her, that might make him move away. And that would be a crying shame. So, to avoid that, Abel tried to concentrate on her breathing. Breathing sounded like an easy enough task — she did it all the time without having to think — but apparently it was possible to do it wrong. "You're still breathing into your chest," Zoro murmured right in her ear. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to wriggle away, her toes curling in response. "Imagine filling your lungs from the bottom up. Your chest should be the last part moving." Abel would almost accuse the man of doing it on purpose, but his tone was a bit too oblivious for that. The man could read the dictionary to her, and so long as he was murmuring it in her ear, she'd keep rapt attention. It really was not fair.
Before she got herself in trouble, Abel tried to do as she was told for a change. It took some practice, but eventually, she began to feel her stomach and rib cage expanding. Concentrating on moving Zoro's hands was a good incentive, the tightening of his grip telling her she was doing it correctly. Abel soon found herself syncing her breath with Zoro's, and she felt his brushing against the shell of her ear, slow and steady. Despite the effort, Abel did find it relaxing. Or at least centering, so concentrated on her task she couldn't think about much else.
Sadly, doing a good job meant Zoro eventually moved away from her. "Good," he said, shifting. Abel heard him sit next to her, probably taking up his own stance. "Now keep going. And when you notice your mind drifting to a thought, simply say to yourself, 'Thinking', and then go back to focusing on your breathing."
This time Abel couldn't help quipping, "Yes, sensei." She heard Zoro snort.
Silence settled peacefully over the duo as they sat, one in practiced meditation and the other doing their best to imitate. Abel didn't know if Zoro always breathed this heavily when he meditated or if it was simply for her benefit, but she did her best to follow along. She tried to visualize her lungs filling from the bottom up, like a water balloon, counting as she went. In-two-three... out-two-three.
Occasionally, her mind did slip up, floating to random thoughts. They'd shift to how she could help Dogmeat next, or how she needed to update her monster book, or noticing the ache in her head. But each time, she would try what Zoro said: label it as a "thinking" then make a concentrated effort to focus on her breathing.
She didn't know how long they sat there in silence before a noise broke through. Tinkering against the roof of the crow's nest, followed by the low rumble of distant thunder. At the sound, Abel opened her eyes. A flash of lightning illuminated the rainstorm beginning to fall upon their ship, chased shortly by another peal of thunder. Not close, but definitely moving closer. The rain pelted against the roof and windows melodically. Abel allowed herself to smile. Now that was something she could set her focus on.
Unless it was a bad storm, Abel always enjoyed the sound of rain. Zoro must've shared in that, because the harsh lines that usually etched his face slackened into peace. If he wasn't sitting upright, Abel would've thought he was asleep.
Letting her own eyes drift shut, Abel listened as the rain pounded against their little sanctuary. Unless Nami gave some warning, they should be fine. The little loft filled with the sounds of tinkling, like sand falling from a broken hourglass. If she bothered to count the time between the flashes of lightning and the echoing thunder, Abel would know the storm was slowly rolling in. The wind must be picking up, because she heard the rigging groaning. Good thing they'd already taken the sails in. Luckily, Sunny was too large and heavy to be bothered by all but the stoutest of winds. And thanks to the two anchors Franky'd installed, they shouldn't have to worry much about drifting closer to the shore.
It wasn't until she noticed a change in the tapping against the glass that Abel began to pay attention. It was harder, more deliberate. Immediately, Abel's mind flashed to the nightmare in the tub, breath stalling and whipping her head toward the sound. She let out a huge sigh upon discovering that, this time, it was nothing more than a bird. A single, soggy, surly raven stood along the sill, taloned feet barely keeping him attached to the metal as the wind buffeted him. Had it not been for the way the light from the crow's nest reflected in the water dripping off its feathers, she might not have noticed the large, black bird.
His beak pecked at the window, perhaps attempting to seek shelter. The irony of a raven trying to get into a crow's nest was not lost on the hunter. The raven turned his head, a single black eye watching Abel before staggering around, pecking at another spot.
Abel made to stand, prepared to open the window to allow the miserable creature a bit of reprieve, when he suddenly lighted, taking off into the darkness. A little disappointed she hadn't been able to help the feathery beast, Abel sat back down... only to nearly fall over backward when the raven came back, this time flying straight into the glass. Naturally, his body hit the pane with a heavy thunk, startling and distressing Abel in equal measure.
"What the fuck?" Zoro demanded, coming to one knee.
Shaking himself off, the raven took flight again. When he flew back again, he hit the same spot on the window, this time hard enough to crack the glass.
Scrambling to her feet, Abel hurried to throw the window open before the bird-brain splattered said brain all over the glass. The fowl didn't seem to appreciate that, however, as Abel swiftly found herself under attack from flailing wings and talons. Crying in surprise, she hurriedly raised her arms to shield her face, and most importantly her eyes. She tried to get out of the way of the frantic creature, but with the sensation of heavy wings beating her head and sharp claws catching in her sleeves and grazing her flesh, she couldn't tell which direction was which. It didn't help that, in all the panic, her ears had begun to ring again.
Abel heard cursing, and felt something whiz passed her head. Just like that, the flogging ceased. Panting, Abel barely caught a glimpse of the raven tearing back out the window, shrieking as it went.
She didn't have time to dwell on it long, because Zoro was soon in front of her. His hands gripped her wrists, pulling her arms away from her face to examine her. "Are you hurt?" he asked, eyes scanning her.
It took Abel's brain a second to calm down from the chaos. "I... don't know..." As her pulse calmed, Abel felt the slight sting of fresh welts from the raven's claws. No doubt she had some defensive wounds on her arms. She must've also had a cut on her face, because Zoro frowned before bringing a hand up, his thumb brushing against the bottom of her lower lip. "My hand hurts," she said at length, the only injury standing out prominently to her.
"Your hand?" Zoro turned Abel's right palm over and studied it. "I don't see anything." True. Her hands were untouched. Yet Abel felt a burning pain in her right hand. She rubbed her fingers into her palm, trying to soothe the pain away.
Outside, they heard Luffy's voice shout over the rain, "Zoro! What just happened!?"
Forgetting they'd left the window open, letting the rain soak that part of the room, Zoro leaned his head out to answer. Abel didn't hear his response, however, as she was too focused on the present left by the raven. Her wide eyes stared in abject dismay at the dripping wet doll that had returned from the sea.
"I swear, you're getting almost as bad as the guys," Chopper chastised as he dabbed some iodine on Abel's lip.
"I can assure you it's not deliberate," Abel mumbled, trying not to move her lower lips too much as he worked. Based on the continued frown tugging his muzzle, Abel assumed he was not assuaged.
The injuries were minor, just some cuts and scratches, but Chopper saw to them as diligently as if they were amputations. On the sea, anything could take a turn for the worse if not tended to appropriately. Some iodine, antibacterial ointment and gauze around the cuts on her arms for good measure, and he was satisfied. Sitting back, Chopper commented, "The bird must've been really scared by all the lightning..."
Abel did her best to train her expression to neutral, unable to shake the feeling that the bird's actions had been deliberate. She hadn't seen it carrying anything, and it certainly didn't have anything in its talons when it attacked her face, but how else did the doll get back on the ship? Granted, with the existence of Devil Fruits, the idea that someone could teleport items wasn't completely out of the question, but Abel doubted that was the case. She hadn't mentioned the doll on either occasion, simply disposing of it immediately. This time, however, she'd bound it to one of Zoro's weights before chucking it into the sea. He had plenty, so she doubted he'd notice a lighter one disappearing.
Chopper spinning suddenly in his chair to face her drew Abel from her musings. He gave her a bright grin. "On the plus side, you may notice Caine isn't here anymore!" He motioned to the empty beds. "Both she and Solomon are recovering well, so they don't need to be on bed rest."
Abel gave a small smile, feeling the tug of her cut as she did. "Good job, Doc." Abel had to purse her lips to avoid tearing the wound open as Chopper did his adorable, bashful dance at the vague compliment. At least someone was having a good time.
Despite the rain that continued to pour outside, the galley of the Thousand Sunny remained its own bright, little oasis. Rather than dwelling on the negatives of a situation, the crew often found ways to simply enjoy being together, and this time was no different. Having everyone able to share a meal together, even if they weren't up to one-hundred percent, felt good. Solomon had to be careful about using his hands, so Sanji had (covertly) made dishes that didn't require utensils to eat. Something Luffy was more than happy to take advantage of, practically shoving his face into his meal. Although her body felt miserable, the sight made Abel's heart glad, and pushed the recent unpleasantness to the background for a while.
After lunch, Abel really didn't want to go to sleep again. Waking up from a nightmare was just as exhausting as not sleeping at all. Yet her body was making its demands known. Keeping her eyes open during the meal had been arduous. So, with much reluctance, she headed for her room. She was pleasantly surprised to find Caine inside, changing out of her old clothes into something fresh. Much like her sister, Caine tended toward loose, comfy clothes when not feeling well. A baggy sweater and... were those boxers?
Abel must've been staring at her bed with a disdainful frown, because Caine eventually asked, "Did the bed offend you?"
"After a fashion," was Abel's reply, though she did crawl in. Caine watched Abel as she settled herself. The sisters stared at each other for a long moment before Abel silently raised her arms toward Caine. A common gesture when they were children. Caine rolled her eyes, but answered the beckon regardless, crawling into bed with Abel. The sisters had shared a bed many times growing up, part of the silent vigil when one was sick, or simply out of a desire for closeness. This was the first time they'd shared a bed as grown women, and it was a bit of a tight fit on the narrow frame. But having Caine close felt comforting. The scent of the lavender-flavored cigarettes she smoked filled Abel's senses. "You've been smoking..." she murmured as she began drifting off. "Doc won't be happy..." Abel was asleep before she could hear Caine's rebuttal.
Maybe it was her sister's presence, or maybe she was just so tired that her brain didn't have the energy to dream. Whatever the reason, Abel's slumber remained mostly uninterrupted, only waking briefly when someone came in the room making a loud noise. Abel's eye would lazily drift open to observe before slipping shut again. No need to waste a peaceful rest. She even waved away dinner, not even opening her eyes for Sanji's call, merely waving her arm in the air dismissively. The rain continued unabated, creating a soothing backdrop. A few loud crashes of thunder woke Abel, but it didn't take much for the woman to slip back under.
It was a particularly loud peal of thunder that jolted Abel completely awake. The air snapped, as if the energy from the lightning had ripped in in twain like Luffy enthusiastically yanking off a drumstick. Sitting up in bed, Abel briefly saw the room light up as another streak of lightning bolted in the sky, followed by another loud rumble. The rain pounded even harder on the ship. Glancing around the room, Abel saw no one else had been disturbed by the noise.
Now wide awake and feeling parched from the long sleep, Abel carefully extracted herself from the bed, trying not to disturb Caine. She smiled, a welcoming sense of nostalgia weighing over her at the scene she hadn't gotten to witness in many years, and thought she never would again. Silently crossing the room, Abel poured herself a glass of water, mindful not to make eye contact with the mirror.
Abel choked on her water when there came a knock on the door. Coughing as some of the water went down the wrong pipe, Abel checked over her shoulder. No one else was awake from the knocking, continuing to sleep soundly. Rubbing at her sore throat, Abel's eyes narrowed upon the door. Setting the glass down in irritation, Abel moved toward the door. But before she did, she grabbed the closest thing to use as a weapon. Unlike the men's quarters, the women's didn't have any swords on the wall, so she'd have to make do with a wine bottle from the storage below. Maybe tonight she'd get to fulfill her dream of cracking a bottle over someone's head.
The women's quarters did have a porthole on the door, though usually covered by a curtain to protect their privacy from prying eyes. Hand gripping the neck of her bottle, Abel pushed the curtain up to see out. Honestly, she'd been expecting nothing again. Therefore, it startled her to actually see someone outside. Although... they had their back to the door, looking out over the deck. They seemed to give no heed to the rain dousing them. Then again, their grey turtleneck looked remarkably dry— Wait? Grey turtleneck? Peering through in earnest, Abel realized it wasn't just anyone standing outside. It was her!
Or at least someone dressed exactly like her. She should probably feel ashamed at how long it took her to recognize herself from behind, but she blamed it on the dark. Or maybe... Abel checked behind her. No, Caine was still asleep in the bed. They'd also lost the habit of dressing like each other long ago.
When she turned back, she continued to see herself standing outside. A surreal sense of numbness took over then. How was one supposed to feel upon seeing themselves in a different place? Disquieting confusion was the best Abel could manage. It didn't help that she'd encountered any number of "logical" explanations. Devil Fruits that could copy someone, ghosts that could steal your face... Regardless of the explanation, Abel knew there was only one way to know for sure.
Makeshift weapon in hand, Abel peeled the door open and stepped out into the empty darkness. Her doppelganger was gone, leaving Abel alone in the rain. She looked all around, but found nothing. She even checked the ground. No dolls, at least. That was a step up from last time, then.
Not wanting to be outside in the dark with whatever was playing doorbell ditch with her, Abel quickly stepped back in, shutting and locking the door as she went. But no sooner than she heard the click of the tumblers falling in place, another knock came at the door. Swiftly, Abel looked outside again. This dress is kinda unflattering, she thought to herself, taking stock of her own back.
It was due to this strange train of thought that Abel noticed something about her reflection's posture. That being, it exactly matched Abel's. One hand was down, clutching an imaginary object, and the other was up, resting against nothing. Moving closer to get a better look, her reflection moved as well, arm moving against thin air, like a mime. Abel tested this new knowledge out, moving her arms at random, even moving her legs. Each time, her reflection copied her movements exactly, as if the door wasn't even there at all. Then, a flash of lightning lit up the deck, blinding Abel for a second. When her vision returned, the deck was empty. No copy standing outside in the dark.
A very unsettling sensation ran up Abel's neck, like oily whispers. She felt there was someone in the room with her. That ethereal, electrical sensation of someone moving just out of view. She didn't want to turn around, but the devil you know is better than the devil you don't.
It should've been comforting to see the source of the movement was her sister getting out of bed. Only, she'd gotten out of bed to stand in the middle of the room, her back to Abel, looking very intently at the wall. Abel silently watched, at first expecting some conversation to happen. But the longer she stood there, unmoving and silent, the longer her sister stood there, unmoving and silent. Abel swallowed down the nausea broiling. There was something about people just standing and staring that made her very nervous. Abel shifted, then jumped a little when Caine did the exact same thing, shifting, then jumping.
She could call out, but the alarm bells were blaring in her head. And not just the obnoxious ringing she'd been experiencing, either. Every honed instinct of self-preservation was going off in her body. She couldn't speak. Maybe she was afraid what she would hear—what the other would say. Anyone else would find it ridiculous to be afraid of one's own sister. But they hadn't lived Abel's life. And she'd seen this sort of behavior before.
Swallowing a lump in her chest Abel slowly looked toward the door. The handle was right there... Why did she have to lock the damn thing? A terrifying chill shot through Abel then as she realized something. If she was looking behind her, then Caine would be doing the same, looking back... at her. Moving only her eyes, Abel caught a glimpse of Caine's face in the reflection of the glasses on the table, before Abel whipped back around. Caine's body swayed as she'd been forced to move so quickly. Abel heard her heart pound, even louder than the ringing. Her eyes prickled. She knew her sister's face. It was her own, after all. And that had not been her own face in the glass. The eyes were too big... too high... too set apart... expression too gleefully malicious. It was like her smiling reflection in that first dream.
Steadying her breathing, Abel kept her eyes on her sister—kept her looking forward—as she reached for the handle. The whole time, her sister's arm dumbly followed along, grasping at nothing. The lock clicked open, deafening in the room. The cold metal against her palm as it enclosed it helped ground her. Abel twisted the knob. Caine's hand rotated against the air in her pantomime.
Suddenly, Caine's left arm shot out, flexing. Abel gasped as her muscles went rigid, seizing up, back arching. Unable to move, let alone look away, she could only watch in horror as Caine clutched her left hand again. Like a marionette on strings, Abel's body followed suit, taking a death grip on the handle. If this painful, rigid sensation was what Caine had been going through when Abel controlled her, she almost felt sorry. Except she was little short on sympathy at the moment, as the puppet master commanded her to grip the handle so tightly her hand hurt. Abel felt the metal bending under her grip, trained by years of archer and tinkering. Her palm was on fire. The broken plating began to cut into her palm as Caine commanded her to yank the handle completely out of the door before dropping the useless hunk of metal to the ground.
Abel didn't have time to contemplate if this meant she was trapped or not, as she didn't have time to check the door. Instead, Caine raised her left arm out, holding out two fingers. Abel barely choked out a noise as her body stood straight, back bowing in an unnatural posture. As if she'd never walked before. With each wiggle of her fingers, Caine pulled Abel closer and closer, pantomiming walking with her hand. The pain of her muscles moving unnaturally was nothing compared to the excruciation of trying to fight against it and losing with each subsequent step. Abel wasn't too proud to admit she was crying as she came closer and closer to her sister, who still hadn't turned to face her.
The hunter stood right behind her sister now, breathing hard. The air fell silent, the sound of rain no longer audible. As if the world had held its breath... or they were removed from reality. Finally—finally—Caine turned to face her. Only, it was no longer Caine. As Abel never had to look up to meet her sister's eyes. Just like she hadn't had to look down at her even when they were kids. But she knew those eyes. She saw them sometimes, even after all these years. Those awful, black eyes, set too high and too far apart... like a wolf's skull struggling to fit a human frame.
Some people freeze up in terror. But this time, fear was actually beneficial to Abel, as it allowed her to bolt. Terror so strong it ripped her from whatever puppet strings she'd been attached to, Abel slammed her shoulder into the door, forcing it off the hinges. Out into the dark tunnels she ran. It didn't matter that she couldn't see. She just knew she couldn't stay there. She'd know those eyes anywhere. It didn't matter if it was pitch, blinding darkness, she'd know them. Compared to those eyes, the darkness of the catacombs might as well have been the surface of the sun.
Without a thought, Abel ducked into the narrow gap, no longer afraid of the tiny space. Such fears felt trivial in comparison to the devil on her heels. In her haste to escape, Abel scratched up her hands, scraped her face, and even bumped her head a few times as she forced herself out the other side. She spared no time, running before she'd even touched the ground. But in her urgency, Abel'd made a wrong turn. Or several. In truth, Abel had no idea where she was or where she was going. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that it was away. She could run into the cult for all she cared. Those abominations would've been teddy bears compared to what was behind her. All reasoning was gone from her brain, only the impulse to keep moving getting through. So, she ran into the long, endless hallways.
Abel had no idea how long she ran, or in which directions. She could be going in a circle for all she knew. She ran until her legs could go no more. Adrenaline could only carry one so far before the body demanded rest. Before panic turned into exhaustion. Abel fell forward, hitting the cold stony ground hard. Panting, unable to catch her breath, Abel curled in on herself and sobbed like a child. Because that's what she felt like, in that moment. She wanted her friends. She wanted her dad. She wanted Napoleon. Anything to offer a shred of comfort, to make the monsters under the bed go away. To stop being real.
Abel curled even further into herself as she heard the footsteps approaching. Slow. Measured. Unhurried. The stride of someone who knew they didn't need to run to get what they wanted. Abel didn't look as they stopped right in front of her, only burying her face in her arms. They leaned down, close to her face. She felt their cold breath against her skin and then they... licked her?
Abel's brain struggled to reset. That wasn't right. That wasn't what happened. Peeling her eyes open, Abel was greeted by a big, sad puppy face. Dogmeat shoved his muzzle into Abel's cocoon, licking and whimpering insistently at her. Abel also couldn't help but notice she was soaking wet.
Slowly, still very confused and disoriented, Abel began to uncurl herself. She didn't attempt to dissuade the beast, only allowing him to do as he pleased as she sat up. She was... on the shore. Sitting out in the rain. Not back in the catacombs. Abel gazed out at her ship. How had she gotten on the shore when they were so far out?
Moving to sit up properly, Abel hissed as something rubbed painfully against her ankle. Pushing Dogmeat aside enough to see her legs, Abel discovered she'd been caught in one of their own snare traps. The rope had wrapped around her ankle, which must've been what made her fall. Now that she was actually aware, and not lost in her memories, Abel felt the pain from where she'd caught her fall earlier. Her hands would probably be bruised. She was also distressingly close to one of the tunnels. Had the trap not stopped her, she might have...
Sitting there in the dark, covered in freezing rain, with nothing but the sounds of the wind and thunder drowning out her breathing, everything slowly began to click into place in Abel's mind. What happened in the catacombs, the nightmares, the cult's activities... everything came mostly together, leaving Abel with a moment of terrifying clarity. And just like that, the panic was gone. Not because there was nothing to be afraid of. Oh no, far from it. If anything, Abel should be pissing herself in horror. Yet strangely, having an answer, knowing the reason behind all the madness gave her a sense of calm agency. She'd robbed the enemy of their tricks by naming them.
Abel hugged Dogmeat, silently thanking the beast for being there to snap her out of what she now recognized as her brain trying to tell her what was going on. Her brain had been trying to tell her, "Wake up, stupid! This is bad!". With a bit of effort, Abel extricated herself from the snare and limped, then swam, back to the ship.
After cleaning her new wound, and making a mental note to tell off whoever was supposed to be on watch for not doing their job, Abel entered the galley to make herself a pot of coffee. There would be no more sleep tonight. Setting herself up for her lonely vigil with a strong boost of caffeine, Abel sat in the darkness of the galley. The hot liquid did little to warm her up, but she had a feeling that would be the case for a while. And not because of just the rain. Setting her steaming cup down, Abel crossed her hands under her chin and gazed steadily across the empty table. If she looked hard enough in the darkness, she could convince herself she saw it. "I know you're there. Haster."
To Be Continued...
Fun fact: With some exceptions and modifications to fit the setting, all the nightmares presented are ones I've experienced in the past.