Nyorks and Honey[PM for Invite]

[Hal Terrano]

The essential part of being an archivist, was not in fact the pursuit of knowledge.

Hal Terrano had swiftly found that it was in fact organisation that reigned supreme in this section of Jedi living. Not that he minded that, organisation went hand-in-hand with discipline marching along the street like the least romantic couple on the block.

Ahto City library's archive had been messy at best. There was no coherent rhyme or reason to anything.

Not so surprising that the spokesman for oats actually found such a task relaxing, even fun at a stretch. Time consuming though, he was having to break rigorous exercise routines (because when time is sparce, it's the sit-ups that go first) to achieve this task. It was taking days. Some might have considered it mind-numbing, no, most would have considered it mind-numbing, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

The aftermath of Manaan had left his mind willing to be numbed.

One Sith victory upon the aquatic world surely weighed heavily upon the minds of every single Republic Jedi, but it wasn't just that. Crystal clear snippets of a certain argument replayed in his mind as square eyes surveyed the blue haze of the console screen. [member="Avalore Eden"]. He couldn't take back those words, couldn't force back down those feelings that had so brutally erupted and made a complete mess of everything, almost fracturing his entire psyche in the process. He remember how his mind screamed hypocrite as she turned and walked away. Force, it hurt.

He felt tired and heavy but in the same breath strangely deflated. Unusual given that the amount of sleep he had been receiving was regulation, scheduled to perfection but then not so unusual because we know the cause of such symptoms. Woe to our little Jedi toad.

Thankfully Cato Neimoidia's archives were one of the best hiding places in the entire galaxy, and he would continue to avoid every sniff of problem for as long as possible.

 

[Avalore Eden]

There just was no leaving Ossus behind anymore.

Wasn't any avenue to take anymore that would result in an exclusive lifestyle of her own choosing. Things had happened that had tangled the residents of the far-off sanctuary on Cato Neimoidia into a mess of war and blood and sacrifice. Things couldn't be quiet anymore, couldn't be content anymore, couldn't be left to simple wants or needs - it was like their little paradise had been stolen right out from beneath them.

She should have known it was never meant to be simple.

Avalore sat in the cockpit of the transport that carried herself and her two newest Padawans [member="Cadmus Fontaine"] and [member="Branimir"] back home, head leaned against a metal support beam near her chair, she watched space pass her by with a listless gaze. Manaan had been a blur of things - the cultivation of this mess they were in - and now it felt as though things had only gotten worse. She'd spent several days traveling with the evacuated citizens, helping the wounded, getting her hands so bloody she still couldn't scrub the stain off.

The fear had been palpable, the tension of the people painful to withstand. She experienced death on a level that, Avalore imagined, only a Healer really could, and it had rocked her emotional foundations.

The transition back to Ossus had been ... difficult. Going from such chaos to such peace and calm. It seemed unreal and even now Avalore still wondered if perhaps she hadn't been back at all. Had she fallen asleep back at the medical wing between tending to the victims of war? Had Cad and Bran all been some wishful figment of her subconscious, yearning for a semblance of peace again?

ETA ten minutes, Master Eden, the pilot droid stationed at the shuttle controls intoned.

She shook her head. Back to reality.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The tour of the Sanctuary wasn't a long one, given the compact structure of the place. Avalore quickly showed her Padawans the main halls before unlocking the doors to their respective bedrooms.

"Take some time to get settled in," she told them quietly, "I have some things I need to take care of. Feel free to make a meal or meditate in the roof garden, or ... talk and get to know one another. I'll come find you in a little while."

She left them to their own, turning to head towards the study where she knew she might find a certain Jedi Knight Toad croaking over his archives. Avalore entered the room silently, sealing the door shut behind her, and turned to look at the back of [member="Hal Terrano"] now facing her.

The Healer said nothing, instead opting to stand there with all the memories and emotions of the past week churning a sickly brew within her head. She just stared silently, perhaps waiting for the man to notice her, to say something first, to give her something to put her mind to work on instead of letting it boil away. Expression tightening, Avalore then felt the beginnings of a crack in the wall of her emotional fortitude.

Oh god, Hal, say something....

 

[Hal Terrano]

The door opened, welcoming in light that he wasn't prepared to greet. Wasn't exactly prepared to greet Avalore either.

For a few moment his eyes flicked up to meet her, face cast in the blue light of the console screen. There was nothing. No further movement, like a young bantha caught in the headlights of a podracer. What could he say? What could he do?

Say he's sorry and that he didn't mean it?

Say he meant it and that he wasn't sorry?

Sitting in dim lighting and rehearsing the right lines to say in his head was by far the most useless thing Hal Terrano had done with his day. The corner of his mouth twitched, as if something was threatening to escape.

Line?

“Nnn,” he mumbled through closed lips, eyes very swiftly dropping back down to the screen as if he hadn't seen her at all.

 

[Avalore Eden]

That simple sound, the simple little toad-hum, was all it took to crack the wall.

Like a fissure in a dam, the water began to leak slowly, bubbling up as a stinging heat in her eyes, and then before anything more could be said or done, tears were streaming down Avalore Eden's face. Pooling just under her eyelids, they ran the curve of her cheeks and plunged down to her chin where they then dripped down along the front of her clothing. She didn't have her blue Healer robes anymore - too much blood, not enough club soda - they had to be disposed of.

Avalore's hands immediately went to her face into which she sobbed.

She wasn't seeking attention, honestly, this was just the first place she felt ....comfortable enough to let it out. Strange how it just so happened to be around [member="Hal Terrano"].

 

[Hal Terrano]

Oh, Force!

Hal Terrano froze into a solid state of panic.

It wasn't crying people per se that Hal couldn't handle, on the contrary when you're on a typical Jedi mission it wasn't so uncommon to encounter a weeping civilian. It was crying [member="Avalore Eden"] that he couldn't handle. At least upon Coruscant he had cried with her, and had also been quite inebriated. Now he was solemn, stone-faced and sober, not to mention vastly unprepared to handle a weeping healer.

Creature of his blunt affections, shedding her tears. What do you do?

The blonde man slowly raised his hand, as if he were to speak. A pause, a blink and then he lowered the almost offending limb. Brow furrowed. Were he not steeped in a world of cruel conflict regarding Miss Eden what he would have said next would have been obvious.

Avalore, are you okay?

That's what would have came tumbling out, all serious and awkward. Crying people are never usually okay, why would you need to ask? Oh, I know, because you've got nothing else to say. Easy questions for the socially inept.

He stood up too suddenly, chair scraping across the floor with a cringe and the brow immediately furrowed. His hand was raised again, threatening speak once more.

Avalore, why are you crying?

Another standard, classic Hal Terrano response. Meant to be well-meaning but coming off cold and callous with his plain oatmeal monotone.

Stepping out from behind the terminal, he stood in his unusually creased brown Jedi robes. Not knowing where to put any of his limbs, he lowered both arms, making sure they were strapped by his side, making him the very model toy Jedi.

“Avalore...”

 

[Avalore Eden]

Shoulders shaking, hands wet, the tears came so forcefully now that her eyes hurt, and the more she cried the more all of it continued to well up. It felt unending, overwhelming. All the years of grief and dry sadness had suddenly, mercilessly caught up with her at Manaan. Had it been [member="Hal Terrano"]? No, curiously, it hadn't. Despite the argument and the piercing words flung that day, Hal maintained a pristine innocence in everything now occurring to Avalore Eden's psyche right this moment.

Still trying to hold it all in and failing miserably, the ache of her sorrows traveled down her throat and into her chest. Eventually it ended up in her knees, which buckled beneath her and the Chief Healer of the Jedi Order crumpled to the floor in a state of miserable despair.

"She died," Avalore managed finally through her sobs that strongly persisted, "she died!"

 

[Hal Terrano]

This was the part in the holovid where the dashing protagonist rushed to the side of his lady love, holding her, protecting her, loving her. She would be cradled in his arms as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. He would tell her, no, promise her that everything would be okay, a single thumb ready to wipe away a tear as the music swelled and he went in for the kiss that said, 'I'm here.'

Life, was not a holovid.

Hal stood stiff and frightened feeling less like a man to protect her and more like a boy that would only burden. What could he do? What should he do? His Code and his Tenets didn't provide an answer for the scenario only further rooting him to his spot of absolute terror.

“Who...” he began, frowning, flinching at the sound of his own voice.

For one moment he managed to break the hold, taking a single tight step towards the crumpled [member="Avalore Eden"], but then before he could go any further he stopped again.

“Who died, Avalore?”

 

[Avalore Eden]

"The little girl...on Commenor-" wet words sputtered from her lips between fat teardrops and wriggled through her fingers over her sobbing. It didn't occur to Avalore that Hal hadn't been present at the hospital - she'd sent him home, back to Cato. He'd never seen the little girl and he had no idea what had transpired after he left.

"I - I was trying to help, she needed surgery, she had a head-" the Healer hiccuped, "head injury. I thought I had her, thought I could save her, Hal, I could feel her spirit in my hands ... and then she opened her eyes and I just -" Avalore's hands fell away from her face, revealing the glistening red eyes beneath, lashes caked and sticky with tears, "I lost her Hal. I felt her spirit slip from my fingers like sand. No matter what I did I couldn't keep her there - she looked so scared, oh Gods, her mother -"

Degenerating into fresh well of sobs, Avalore slumped forward, face once more in her hands, which now rested on the floor.

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

Suddenly he felt misplaced.

As if he could be any use in this situation. Hal was prepared to handle the horrors of war, he didn't find himself shaken by the sight of fallen comrades and civilian casualties. He had been there on Coruscant when the Protectorate's flagship came evacuated and crashing into the Palace. Hundreds of thousands of lives snuffed out in one fell swoop, the suffering of those trapped beneath the rubble, it was all there, he had felt it and yet he managed to keep his stoic nature affixed.

Although his opinion of the Protectorate had shifted in that moment, from decidedly neutral to extremely negative. War criminal levels of negative, definitely arrest on sight.

Hal could not empathise with [member="Avalore Eden"], he could understand why she was sad but he couldn't share that same grief. His brow furrowed, an expression of both conflict and frustration arising upon his stony features.

What's my line?

Avalore, I'm sorry.

Classic Hal Terrano. But no. Too obvious. You've said it before. Stop being sorry, damn it.

He took another step forward, a step of trepidation and fear, as if he was walking into a rancor's pit rather than towards a distraught friend.

“It's not your fault.”

 

[Avalore Eden]

"Oh Hal," Avalore's voice cracked into a strained whine, words choking over the pain she still felt within her that had not been her own to bear, "what if it was? What if she died because I just can't ... "

All the sounds echoed into the tiled floor. Her knees and ankles had begun to sting beneath her but she just didn't care. Avalore had been afraid, terrified, from the moment she left Hal's side on Commenor. He was her rock, and she hadn't realized it until then. Hadn't realized what a terrible Jedi she really was.

Jedi weren't supposed to be afraid, they weren't supposed to grieve or be angry or sad. They were supposed to know peace and be purveyors of serenity and calm.

I haven't felt calm since the day I joined.

"I can't do this like you," she admitted, "all I could think about was ... what if it were my daughter? Hal ... I don't even know what happened to her, but I keep seeing her everywhere..."

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

Cato Neimoidia: Temple of Healing, Knowledge and self-doubting tragic Jedi.

Since Manaan it was seemingly Hal's destiny to be confronted by crying woman. Upon his return he had confronted Lira about her actions during the battle, and had then seen his former Padawan reduced to a puddle of breathless tears, now it was Avalore leaking all over the Archive floors. When would it be his turn on the weeping roulette of Cato?

“She didn't,” he responded immediately to that particular notion, managing to steel himself somewhat from his own fears and hypocrisy.

I can't do this like you.

No, [member="Avalore Eden"]. I cannot do this either.

As predicted the bottle was breaking, but this moment wasn't about Hal Terrano. Here she was, heart on the sleeve, fears and doubts rushing out alongside those tears. The argument could be pushed down, Manaan could be pushed down, his own hypocrisy too, yes, yes, down back into that fractured glass bottle, just for a little while longer.

This time his legs made more movement than just a single step forward, duty called for him to be the rock and so that's what he would be. You can buy your own Jedi Knight Terrano for 29.99, now with articulated joints, perfectly malleable in your hand!

“No,” he said firmly, finally making it over to the heap of a woman. His face was still locked in the combination expression of fear and frustration but nonetheless he crouched down, placing a cautious hand upon the folded woman's back. “You can do this.”

The blonde Knight proceeded to awkwardly rub Avalore's back, not quite knowing how to proceed in the emotional minefield of a situation.

“She is fine.”

 

[Avalore Eden]

Sobbing into her hands, into the floor, Avalore's figure shuddered with every breath. She felt herself wilting, felt her energy finally run dry. All the adrenalin of Manaan had worn off, and it'd only taken a week. The Healer was utterly exhausted.

Every fiber, from brow to toe, was woefully depleted of that critical ingredient that made a Jedi never give up, never give in. Avalore was ready to give up, ready to give in, ready to turn her back on everything she'd accomplished and everything they'd built together. The terror, the chaos, the death - and she'd only recently found out about [member="Lira Dajenn"]'s own experiences.

What was wrong with them?

Avalore felt the weight of [member="Hal Terrano"]'s hand on her back and it was, in that moment, the most comforting thing in the galaxy. Though the physical warmth it offered was minimal, the emotional warmth was monumental. Even if Hal had no idea how to really do such things.

"I don't know ... if I can do this anymore, Hal ..." voice strained and breaking, "I just brought two more Padawans in to train. I can't do it. Hal, I can't do it. I can't even save one little girl and the Order expects me to train the next generation of Healers... what was I thinking..."

 

[Hal Terrano]

The doubt upon his face began to fade, slowly coming to be replaced by a certain shade of disgruntlement as Avalore confessed to her own doubt. How he had any right to be disgruntled was definitely put to question, Hal had been feeling those very same doubts, Force, the entire temple seemed to be steeped into a fine broth of apprehension.

“You are wrong.”

Flat. Stiff. Monotone.

Be the rock that [member="Avalore Eden"] needs.

His hand pursued the compassionate art of the backrub while the rest of him tried to organise back into hard, unfeeling granite. It wasn't quite there. Dark circles under the eyes suggested lack of sleep. A light scruff on the cheeks suggested a loss of discipline.

“All Jedi come to face fear eventually,” he said, staring at Avalore's scalp rather than her face. It was easier to talk about this, things he knew about. In the realms of Jedi history one would find that almost all of them had to overcome personal demons. Most made it to the other side, some didn't.

But not for a single second did Hal Terrano think that Avalore could not conquer this.

“How many lives did you save? On Manaan? On Commener?”

Cue a softer variety of frown.

“Tell me, Avalore.”

 

[Avalore Eden]

"I don't know, there were so many people, Hal. So many ... so much ... blood," a sickened sob as she remembered, with pristine clarity, the image of herself removing her blood-soaked Healer robes in one of the Doctor's offices at the end of the first day on Commenor. She'd stank of fear, death, and all the things that came with warfare from a victim's perspective.

~~~~~
"Would....would you like me to wash them for you, Master Healer?" an attending Nurse had asked while handing Avalore clean Nurse-robes.

"No," she remembered saying, listless, the gleam gone from her eyes, for all the galaxy she'd felt equally as soul-less as the days spent imprisoned by the Sith, "...just burn them."

~~~~~

Her knees were likely bruising by now and they stung so bad she nearly forgot the ache in her hands.

"...I'm so...tired. After the little girl died, I couldn't help anyone. I didn't have anything left in me. I've got nothing left, Hal."

She couldn't even heal simple wounds, couldn't help the people - not even Stali.

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

In life it's far too easy to focus upon the negative rather than the positive. The world could tell you that you're important, that you're funny, that you're smart, that you're worth a damn but you can't see past that one single voice that told you that you weren't. You could save hundreds of lives but then that one instance you couldn't serves to be your fount of doubt.

That's all it takes, one stone on a clear road, just there to trip you.

“That is not true.”

Hal shifted, moving from the crouch and onto his own knees. The all-encompassing hand of awkward travelling up Avalore's back to rest upon her shoulder.

“We all get tired, Avalore,” he stated rather simply, “all of us.”

Cue firm shoulder squeeze.

“Even me.”

He needed her to get up, to look up. Not just physically but mentally too. Terrano knew that there were Jedi who never made it past this hurdle, who after tripping and grazing their metaphorical knees either abandoned the Order or fell. Not [member="Avalore Eden"] though. She wouldn't. She couldn't. Not while Hal was still drawing breath.

“Look at me.”

 

[Avalore Eden]

Avalore was strangely overcome with a sense of deja vu, only in reverse.

For the first time since leaving Manaan, she thought about their little fight and the things that had been said. Sentences of the worst Jedi-failure she'd heard and spoken since joining the Order nearly two years ago. Feelings of anger and disgust, raw and undercooked just like her fething nyork chowder. Her frown deepened into a trench, she gave another sob.

What if things had gone horribly awry? What if that conversation had been the last she'd ever shared with [member="Hal Terrano"]? She couldn't bear to think of the guilt that had suddenly filled the pit of her stomach.

"Hal," the Healer croaked over fat, wet tears as she slowly, stiffly moved to sit up. Regret came next, the weight settling upon her almost as heavy and overbearing as that of her failures on Commenor. It filled her veins with iron, wrapped her eyes with stone. Took damn near all the willpower she had left just to look Hal in the face, "I'm so sorry."

 

[Hal Terrano]

That's it. Up we go.

A frown, as per usual remained etched upon his face. Although to one Hal Terrano the word frown covered a vast array of facial expressions. There wasn't simply just one kind of way to scowl. To the uninitiated yes, that was all that they would have saw but to one familiar with our blond brick Jedi, then they could tell the subtle nuances in his face with relative ease.

This was a frown laced with concern.

The pair of them looked as if they'd spent a month in Chaos. Weary, bleary eyes accompanied by dark rings, hair not combed, face not shaven (more on Hal's part than Avalore's, admittedly) and just a general aura of exhaustion. War was more than just the sum of lives lost on each side.

His mind had rather blissfully been sent far from the emotional maelstrom of Manaan, concern for the healer having overridden his own sense of wallowing self-doubt, just as it had when his former Padawan crumbled. Duty first. Always.

He couldn't fathom why she was sorry.

“You do not need to be sorry,” he stated, as if it were a fact from the pages of the Jedi History that he so seemed to covet.

Then came the unexpected. A hug? A kiss? That's what we're all waiting for, right? For old reliable to just take the moment by the balls and go for it? Is this a holovid after all?

Very consciously Hal pulled at the muscles of his face, moving those thin disapproving lips into what could have only been described as a smile. It was awkward, unsure, as if he was basing the expression on images in his mind rather than knowing how to do it automatically. It had never been seen before.

“You are a great Jedi, [member="Avalore Eden"].”

 

[Avalore Eden]

No Hal, you're still doing it wrong.

Avalore's expression crumpled as she watched the Jedi Knight before her put on his best Code of Conduct self. The shoes might need polishing, but the laces were all in order, as always.

You can't keep being the perfect Jedi, you can't keep being so good to me. I can't stand it. It's not right.

Brows wavering over an ugly, crestfallen expression shadowed by exhaustion, the Healer gave a single, slow nod. Brown eyes left tired blues, searching frantically for something to latch on to that wasn't beyond her scope of expectations.

Why aren't you mad at me?!

She sniffed, wiping absently at her face, gaze floating around the room towards the archive hub where it lingered, mind spinning for something to say.

You're a great Jedi, Avalore Eden.

Oh, Hal. Just stop.

Her face wrinkled with a fresh sting of tears. The Healer pressed her fist to her lips, wincing against them. this wasn't helping. She wanted to believe him, but maybe ... maybe she was just too tired to do it.

"Thanks Hal..." her voice barely squeaked out, she spared a quick glance at him, "...but I'm not as good as you. I'm sorry I interrupted you. I'll just ... go." Eat? Shower? Sleep? Exile herself? Start a stamp collection on some backwater planet?

Pushing herself back to her feet, wiping once more at her face, she made to head for the door and a hasty exit.

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

Sometimes you roll for communication, and it's a low roll.

Other times you roll and you have a minus three penalty because that's just the gifts that the Force gave you. His assault of positive reinforcement combined with awkward facial movements was not having the projected results, as if Hal Terrano could ever project the results of his interactions.

Gaze averted, grimacing into her hand. The blunt blond man boy felt as if he said something wrong, and in his lack of social experience actually felt a stiff slap of embarrassment ricochet off the top of his head like a hard slap. Even he could hear her voice, barely making it through the sentence without crumbling back into further tears. Quick glance not really looking, because eye contact might push her back over the edge and into a heap once again.

I'm not a good Jedi, [member="Avalore Eden"].

She stood up.

I'm trying.

However for once instead of sitting by to play retrospective spectator, Hal followed suit, quickly getting back up to his feet and pacing after with longer-legged strides. Before the healer could make her retreat he caught her wrist on the back swing. It wasn't the most gentle grip but how could it be when that familiar surge of emotion was making a comeback like nyork chowder up his oesophagus.

“Stop.”

It came out harsher than intended, more like an order than a request. What now? You made the charge and now you've got nothing to say.

“Stop that.”

Serious face. Serious voice. Serious frown.

“Stop hurting yourself.”

 

[Avalore Eden]

She startled at the sudden contact and turned a wide, bleary eyed look at Hal, so taken off-guard by his forwardness that she looked like he might as well have struck her.

The shock settled after a moment and she did not bother to struggle against him or pull away, she had nothing left within her to do so with. Later on Avalore would marvel and wonder at how she'd managed to conduct herself at Ossus long enough to pick up her new Padawans, run a class with Younglings, and not manage to break down just like she was now.

Why now?

Why Hal?

"I don't know else what to do Hal..." Avalore's broken voice croaked back at him, "what am I supposed to do?!"

[member="Hal Terrano"]