One Little Speckled Frog

[Hal Terrano]

Jedi Temple, Cato Neimoidia

Change doesn't happen overnight.

Spare a thought for the poor frog after he's been turned into a prince, because he hasn't quite shaken the desire to return to the pond and gulp down flies all day. Natures can't be changed so quickly, it's just not healthy.

So when Hal Terrano should have asked for help, he didn't, the stubborn nature of the frog shining through like it did before. Was it pride? Shame? A fear of rejection? Sometimes it's just not easy to talk about things, is it? Jedi aren't supposed to talk about things, especially not the staunch defenders. They were to stand and hold, carry the weight upon their shoulders in noble silence. Asking for help is the hard part.

So when the Dark Mark between his shoulder blades refused to cease itching, Knight Terrano looked for no aid beyond his own two hands. Or maybe a blade.

It wasn't a typically impressive mark, with Hal never really having that true darkness within him, it had thrived and grown from his anguish but that was all that he had provided. No true hatred to feed upon besides gratuitous self-loathing. He was never going to be a malevolent little frog with inky blackness spiralling across his flesh.

Frogs don't become Sith overnight either.

He stood shirtless in his chamber, hardly the most impressive physique within the Order. Most people lose weight when spending time amongst the ranks of the Sith, however most people don't come to the One Sith to take up rampant alcoholism. It's not good for the figure, honey. Not that he'd ever been ripped, Terrano had always been both stout, in both the head and the body. Broad shouldered. Steadfast. Probably good for a cuddle, or a spoon. Not that we'd know anything about that of course.

In his left hand he held a small mirror, which was being directed at a larger mirror propped up against the wall on the bare desk behind him, which was in turn pointed upwards to look upon his upper back.

It was butchery.

Physical pain had never held barriers for him, Nemene Talith had figured that out in less than a day. Grit your teeth and bear it, that's the way. Rivulets of crimson trickled down his back, unapologetically staining the waistband of his trousers. For you see, in Hal's right hand was a knife (borrowed from the kitchen, naturally).

He was digging out his own Dark Mark, and making a proper arse of it. It wasn't an accurate system, and his hand wasn't very steady while he did it. Rather then digging out one hunk of marred flesh he had hacked lop-sided grooves and left bits of skin hanging off awkwardly. Not that it discouraged him, no, he just grunted at the self-inflicted pain and continued his determined mutilation.

Silly frog.

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

Avalore wasn't sleeping very well since Coruscant.

Though she could not doubt the wonderful sensation of sinking into a bed, a real bed, the soreness of her body after living in the dungeons of the One Sith still had yet to abate. Scrubbing at her skin still had yet to take away what she imagined to be the stench and grime of the darkside. Running herself ragged on her morning route had yet to sweat out the lingering sensation of decay. She felt saturated by it.

Black, blue, red, green. The slowly healing bedsores on her shoulders, sides, hips, knees, ankles. They smarted with every daily task, and despite the clean sheets and soft cushion of her bed finding comfort at night was next to impossible. Regaining her old self was turning out to be a long, arduous thing, but at the very least she now had peace of mind.

Mostly.

Sweat pants, tank top, night robe, the Healer padded out of her room and down the hall. This was becoming a new routine. Sleep fitfully for a few hours, wake, shower, walk the temple grounds. Bare feet padded across cold tile floors, bringing her quietly past the row of doors that lead to the rooms of the temple's respective Knights and Masters. Well, really, it was her and Hal for the time being. Jonny's room was in the Padawan's wing, across the hall from Darius. She'd invited Matteo and Korr to live there as well, but their own current standing with the Jedi was beyond her knowledge. Matteo had proven to be a wild card and Korr was hardly ever in one place long enough to get two words in edgewise.

Still, three's company. And it certainly was better than living there alone with naught but the memory of the quiet Blademaster, stoic body guard and the little babe McPuff to haunt her.

Robe hugged snugly at her middle, Avalore breathed deeply as she passed by Hal's room and slowly came to a stop.

Hal's light was on, small beams sneaking out from beneath the door.

Strange, Hal usually abided by a strict sleep schedule.

Did he leave the lights on?

Unlikely.

Blinking, Avalore hovered on the spot in a moment of indecision. To knock or not to knock.

A glance down that long, dark, lonely hallway ... Avalore moved forward and gently knocked on the door.

"Hal?" she frowned, "...are you awake?"

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

The face of concentration was real, lack of eyebrows furrowed, gritted teeth, just a few more accurate cuts and it would be gone. Banished from his flesh, from his mind, no more itching, another great woe lifted from the man's mind, well, once he actually got it that is. A steadier hand was really required here, and well, Hal didn't have those, not at the moment.

Cold turkey. From heavy drinking back to his pious ways in such a sudden snap. Withdrawal gives you the shakes, man. Although Hal never realised that. As such, he thought trembling digits and random bouts of sweating was his body purging any trace of the Dark Side that might have lingered within him. Never knew it was a lot more mundane than that.

There was a soft knock that thankfully didn't startle the man as the knife pried away more flesh.

Hal stared at the door first, blinking at it as if that would do something. Of course, it didn't and the man soon realised that generally to interact with people that you needed to speak. Use your mouth words.

“Yes.”

Atta boy.

A fragment of his soul was excited, knowing who stood upon the other side of that door, the rest of him stiff and petrified. Placing the bloody blade down upon the desk he padded over to the door and opened it fully, revealing the incredibly plain room within. Although standing topless with a small mirror in your hand is a peculiar way to greet somebody.

There was mild confusion etched upon his features.

“Avalore,” he began rather curtly, as per usual, “is there something wrong?”

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

Brown eyes traced up to the shock of pale blues. Hal Terrano's eyes were as cold as his demeanor at times. Edgy. Piercing. It made her uneasy sometimes, worried that her presence offended him. That her lack of Jedi-ness was an annoyance. Still, she was stubborn. She persisted, if not a bit tentatively.

Frown.

"No, I couldn't sleep-" she glanced back down the hall in the direction of her own room, "-can't sleep. Haven't been able to since..."

Sigh. Avalore lifted a hand to brush damp hair from her face. Her lips drew thin as she refrained from speaking any further on that particular subject. He knew to what she referred. He knew those unspoken words.

Since Coruscant.

Since the dungeons.

Since the escape of horrors.

Brows knitting upwards, she gently cleared her throat, "Usually I just... walk around the temple at night, but I saw your light was on. Thought I'd see -" she looked back, glancing the mirror in his hand and pondering that it was somewhat odd. She blinked at it, "...if you wanted some tea or company. If you couldn't sleep too, I mean. I don't want to be a bother."

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

Nobody had ever graced the doors of Hal Terrano seeking comfort, it was an entirely new concept that almost left him baffled.

He nodded at the woman when her voice trailed off, he understood. Coruscant didn't summon pleasant memories for anybody, they were all captives, just captives of different kinds. Of course, one couldn't compare the guilt of betrayal to the horrors of imprisonment, or the agony of being beaten daily. Different feelings. Different problems.

The Jedi known as Avalore Eden summoned a swirling mess of emotion in the pit of his stomach. He'd never had friends before, never been kissed either and then she came in like a wrecking ball. It didn't show upon his face, but there was a certain edge of excitement at the prospect of seeing her, which of course was swiftly followed by the rain cloud of guilt.

A Jedi must not have wants.

“I've never had tea before,” he admitted abruptly.

Wow. Those social skills, huh?

Even Hal himself looked mildly embarrassed by his own form of small talk as he stood there like a plank, almost forgetting about his own bleeding back.

As his brain tried to muster up an appropriate sentence the man found his face physically screwing up at the effort. Being warm didn't come naturally to him. Being nice took effort, and sheathing his words so they weren't so sharp was difficult.

“I would like to try some,” Terrano finally said altogether too firmly before stepping back into his room, he'd need to put a robe on at leas, can't go wandering at night topless. His hidden eagerness to spend time with Avalore left him forgetting about the mangled flesh upon his back, as he turned to grab a standard issue brown robe from his cupboard.

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

"Really?"

Shocking. No really. Shocking. After all the time Hal had been with the Jedi and ...no tea? This was like working at a cheese factory and never having a slice. Force almighty, what had they done to this man?

"Well, I'll make you some," oh feth, Avalore bit at her lip as he turned to gather a robe, now I'm responsible for his very first tea-tasting? I hope there's some of Diana's stash left. Do I still have honey? Hell, do I have sugar? What on earth is...

"Hal....HAL-" the Healer suddenly took three frantic steps into the man's room, brown eyes glued to the angry mass of rent flesh on his back, "what. What is this?! What happened?" and then her eyes saw the bloody dagger on the dresser and quickly enough, "Did you....did you do that to yourself?"

 

[Hal Terrano]

Welcome to the school of the sanctimonious.

Before his delightful jaunt with the One Sith had occurred Hal had existed entirely upon water and foods lacking in flavour. He took the pious lifestyle altogether too seriously and it wasn't just sins of the flesh that were being denied. All hail the king of discipline. Well, former king.

The crown got too heavy.

Her sudden flurry into his room startled him, causing his body to stiffen like a womp rat caught in headlights, eyes widening as he stared into the very diverse collection of brown robes. Slipped his mind for just a second that he'd been carving himself up like the Sithmas Endorian Chicken moments before she had knocked upon his door.

“Yes,” he conceded rigidly, frown cresting once more upon his face.

It could have looked like so many things, things that spoke of turmoil, things that needed to be talked about...but then again, what a strange place to engage in self-harm.

He turned around, putting his back to the cupboard so that she couldn't look upon it any further, and it was then that Hal blurted out the most and concise explanation to have ever been spoken in the history of everything:

“Dark Mark.”

 

[Avalore Eden]

Avalore stared at him, face blanched and drawn with disbelief.

"Bwhat?!"

The expression on the Healer's face was a mixture now of confusion. Concern. Horror.

"Hal....HAL!" this was getting a might bit loud, she'd hate for the other occupants of the Temple to get the wrong idea. Oh my.

Avalore gestured frantically at him, then at the knife, "You can't do that! You can't just hack away at yourself, that's crazy! What were you thinking?! Why didn't you say something to me? Why didn't you ask me for help? What am I? Chopped liver?"

 

[Hal Terrano]

Watch, as when confronted by the Eden Banshee the wild Hal Terrano turns to stone, completely frozen he hopes that her vision is based upon movement and that soon she will tire of flailing and shouting and leave. Of course, being that her vision is based upon vision, this tactic will not prevail.

Wait a moment, chopped liver?

“No, Avalore. You are a human,” he replied quietly, his eyes suddenly flitting away from her. Why? Is that your old friend guilt come knocking again? Is she making you feel bad? Why would anybody care about what you did, Hal?

What was he supposed to say? 'Hello, Avalore, do you want to help me carve this manifestation of evil out of my flesh? Maybe we can kiss again after?' I don't think so! Words needed to form within his mouth and quickly, before the sudden and strange onslaught of shame overwhelmed him. Stop making him feel things, it's clearly frightening him.

“I did not want to bother you,” he mustered, his stare boring a hole into the wall on his left, “I am sorry.”

 

[Avalore Eden]

"Bother me?" incredulous, outrageous, preposterous.

But the recent words from moments ago filtered through her mind, "...if you wanted some tea or company. If you couldn't sleep too, I mean. I don't want to be a bother."

Practice what you preach girl.

Frowning, Avalore forced the sharp edge of disgust from her face with a deep breath, "Jeebus Hal, no. No no no." Wringing her hands over her face, she set the man with a sobering gaze. Cool it, Avalore.

Think about it.

Avalore thought about it, and as she did her eyes narrowed. Hands still at her face, she felt her lips draw thin. There was steel glinting in that gaze now, embittered within all that earthy-brown.

"You listen to me, Hal Terrano," and here comes the Ava-bomb. Voice low, dead level, she approached the man and stopped right before him, "this," she began, flinging her right hand out to the side and doing something she normally never did - abused her powers to do something that she could have easily done without, and drew that bloody knife of his to her palm, holding it up between them, "is unacceptable. I can't fathom in my head what you went through, but feth-it, Hal, you're not going through it now and you won't ever go through it again if I have anything to say about it. I am your friend and I care about you and you will come to me with your problems and your issues and I will help you through them and you will not ever, ever-" her voice cracked a bit there, "do something like this again."

Brow furrowed, jaw set, she held out her free hand to offer it to him, "Now come on, let's go get you cleaned up."

 

[Hal Terrano]

Jeebus Hal?

He didn't quite understand what that meant, almost letting his stare wander back to her face to try and pry some context from the word, and yet he didn't. Curiosity couldn't override his guilt, at least not in this scenario.

But then when she moved to close the gap, those glaciers finally shifted back to focus upon her face. Probably shouldn't have, her expression sent a mild wave of anxiety through him, he hadn't witnessed this look before and if one had to guess they would say it didn't come out to play very often.

She summoned the knife, frigid gaze shifting down and then up once more. Was he being scolded? Scolded? Hal Terrano? Stickler for rules? Destroyer of fun? They said when he was a baby that the Jedi Code was etched into his diaper. The man couldn't even remember the last time he was scolded.

It stung.

To be so bull-headed as to not realise one's own selfishness, but nobody had ever cared about Hal Terrano before! It was difficult to wrap his head around the prospect of having a friend, having somebody there to talk to! Force forbid it if we couldn't just bottle up our problems any more. It caught him off guard, leaving him standing there eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Please turn off those headlights.

The usual response would have been to tell her off for saying feth.

But Avalore Eden was anything but usual.

“I thought that I could cut it out,” he murmured, brow creasing as if talking about it hurt more than any blade, “I did not mean to....”

No.

“Avalore...I am...”

Sorry? Silly? Jeebus? Words are so very hard.

“...I will not do it again,” Hal finally conceded, taking her hand as he did so and allowing Avalore to lead him away to patch him up a piece. No trying here, you do, or you do not.

 

[Avalore Eden]

"Good," Avalore took the man's hand firmly in her own, maintaining the bloody knife in the other, and lead him from the room. Exasperated, exhausted, mentally worn. Was this what it was like to be a responsible adult? A mother? Avalore Eden hadn't a clue, as these sorts of things had never been a necessity up until just now. Amazing what a month in a cell beneath a Sith Palace could do.

They reached the Medical Wing, which was to say they reached the short hall devoted to the care for wounded. A modest infirmiry that held two standard bacta tanks; medical equipment for surgery; and all the necessities of a Healer's supply filled for Avalore upon moving in with Diana what seemed forever-and-a-day ago. She'd only used the place once--for patching up Diana after a minor scuffle--but Avalore had spent a good deal of time organizing things here.

She knew exactly what she needed before they even arrived and sat [member="Hal Terrano"] down on an examination bed before whisking off to collect them. First thing's first, that horrific butcher-job needed to be cleaned. She returned, pressed a button on the bed hydraulic controls and lowered it to bring the mess to eye level. Avalore frowned into a deep grimace, gut churning at the sight, twisting with the thought of self mutilation.

There were words to be said for that, none of which conducive to helping Hal's case, so Ava bit them back and began the task of cleaning up the fleshy ribbons left behind.

"Hal..." the weak tone finally sounded as the damage became more clear, Avalore tended to it as gently as she could, making every effort not to cause more pain, "...what did they do to you..."

 

[Hal Terrano]

He remained silent, if not slightly sheepish as he was lead from the comforting turtle shell of his room and towards the medical wing. Tal was never going to be bringing out the small talk, even with a woman who often left him with more thoughts swirling in his head than he was accustomed to. So he refrained from speaking, opting to stare at the back of Avalore's head with a touch of a grimace.

He remembered their time spent at that festival, before things were complicated. Before [member="Avalore Eden"] conjured confusion within his soul.

She liked cotton candy. He judged her for it. To consume that amount of sugar is simply unnecessary, in fact, that variety of sugar was generally unnecessary. Flavour had not been an element of Hal's life. It was a pleasure, not as extreme or as obvious as sex or spice, but it was still a detraction from the life of a pure and proper Jedi.

Yes, even cotton candy.

Sitting upon the examination table a mild grimace crested upon his features, physical pain didn't really bother him. Years of rigorous, joyless training had left him with a tuned mind and body, made to last in the field of battle, to carry those who could no longer stand.

What did they do to you? Could have meant so many things, but Hal had to assume it was in reference to the mess of blood and flesh between his shoulder blades.

“The Dark Mark,” the man responded, back in his usual abrupt manner. “As I understand it, it is a ritual marking for Sith. A manifestation of the Dark Side that can shift and grow in accordance to one's connection.” It almost sounded like a textbook lecture. Forget Clarissa. Hal Terrano explains it all, or really, just the bare bones.

“It itches. I do not like it.”

Less textbook there.

 

[Avalore Eden]

Avalore didn't know much about the Darkside or the Sith. She didn't know or understand their purpose or their goal. So when Hal explained the rotten black flesh on his back, it caused the Healer to recoil just slightly.

"Dark Mark," she said quietly, brows knitting upwards, but further words failed to follow. She didn't know what to do for him, quite honestly. Would carving out the flesh really do the job? It sounded too easy, and nothing she did know of the Darkside was easy. It was all quite muddled and complicated.

"...I'm going to remove what you missed ... but only because I can't do anything with this mess." There, that sounded definitive. If she could clear away this mess and give herself a clean area to work with, then maybe she could figure a way to patch him up that wouldn't leave a hideous scar to remind him of what used to be there. Healer powers be damned, if she used them now he'd have nothing but a lump of corrupted scar tissue.

Following procedure once she'd cleaned up the area well enough, she gave the man a shot of localized numbing-agent before bringing over a waste basin and scalple. Avalore hovered at his back, frowning, stomach churning. Alright Avalore, don't get yourself all worked up. You've helped with surgeries way worse than this. This is nothing. It's a surface wound. You're not staring at Hal's innards.

Then why did she feel like staring at that angry mass of flesh gave her a strange look in at the man's elusive and cold heart?

She leaned in and lifted her shaking hands, attempting to steady them.

Stop thinking about it, Avalore. You're not slicing up your friend, you're tending to a patient. Think about something else. Anything else.

With a deep breath, she tried again, but found her hands shaking even harder.

"Feth," she grimaced, pushing the heel of her free hand at the side of her head, "you...you have to talk to me Hal. Ask me questions or something."

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

He nodded slowly, removal of the flesh was the objective after all and perhaps with a steadier pair of hands working at his back would make less of a dog's dinner of it than he did. What am I saying? Perhaps? Avalore was a Jedi Healer, this was her element, her area of expertise, there was no perhaps about it.

Of course, Hal himself was unsure if simply physically removing the mark would remove all traces of the taint or if it would simply be cosmetic. Hardly a Sith Sorcerer, was he?

“Sorry,” he murmured, eyes staring forward at the wall. Of course he didn't mean to make such a mess, although in that same breath Hal didn't know at the time that Avalore would be helping his quest of mild self-mutilation. He hadn't opted to make anything difficult to anybody, Terrano had simply tried to solve his own solution which of course only resulted in making everything difficult for everybody.

Asking for help is hard, remember?

The Healer swore again, causing his mild grimace to fold into a frown, and given that this time he was not on the receiving end of an Ava-Bomb the Knight spoke up. “Please do not swear, Avalore, it does not suit you.” It was a softer scolding than usual, with an explanation offered up instead of a blunt order.

Well, he was talking to her at least. Question. Question. What makes a good question? Do you like McYoda's? No, no, no. Tell me about your time in Sith custody. Big no, how about we avoid the subject of Corusant altogether? How did you meet Johnny Diamonds? Better, keep that one in the brain bank for later.

“Why are you a healer?” Hal asked abruptly, even recoiling himself slightly at just how harshly framed that question seemed to be, “What made you choose that path?”

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

Blinking, the Healer stared at the back of her patient's head, brown eyes locked on the cowlick of blond hair. Don't swear? When was the last time she'd heard that? A year at least. Frowning, she uttered a soft apology. Habit.

There, finally, came a questions. Avalore released a slow breath.

Easy does it.

Focus on the question.

"Well," she began, "as you know I only joined the Jedi about a year ago. Since I came in so late to the game, I got put in with younglings. Discovered real quick I wasn't any good with a training saber or ...really, a weapon of any kind," Avalore leaned in, hands steady, and began to carefully slice away, "and I discovered I was pregnant about a month in. My Master wasn't comfortable putting me into any sort of combat or self defense course, so he recommended I sit in on Archival and Healing classes. See if anything stuck."

She sighed, "Turns out I had a bit of a natural talent for Healing. Picked it up pretty fast - fastest Master Vu Ra had ever seen, anyway."

"What about you, Hal?" Avalore carefully peeled away a tattered sliver of skin, wiping up the pooling blood as it dripped down his back, "Why are you a Warrior?"

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

He remained perfectly still, not wishing to upset Avalore's work by moving around too suddenly. Thankfully Hal was a veritable expert at becoming a living statue (with the notable exception of those hands) so there would be no slips or mishaps, not as if he'd feel it or notice given that the numbing agent was doing its job nicely.

The story that she told was so different from his that it was almost hard to swallow.

Avalore had joined the Jedi a year ago, Hal had been there since infancy. She wasn't good with a saber, he was quite the dab hand. She got pregnant....and well, boys can't get pregnant, at least not in this species. Healing, however was a school too specialised for him, Hal Terrano was an all-rounder, he had the grasp of the core Force Powers and maybe a few extras, and well, he knew how to fight, but then...

...he frowned.

Why are you a warrior, Hal Terrano? If truth be told he had never really thought about it. I mean, if you asked him why did he fight it would be a different story. To defend the weak and the small, for justice, he would sacrifice so that others could live and be free, be happy even. Hilarious, or perhaps tragic given how the concepts of happiness eluded him so.

“Because that is what I was told to do,” came the typically blunt answer, and yet suddenly he felt embarrassed. She gave him back story and reason. There was a story there and he, he gave the answer of 'they told me to.' [member="Avalore Eden"] gave him conversation and he killed it.

“Sorry.”

Think. Words. Question. What's a Jeebus? No! Get off that topic!

“Do you like being a healer?”

 

[Avalore Eden]

Avalore paused in her work, strangely dumbstruck by his reply. It seemed far too simple, far too forward. While she'd known plenty of Jedi to be simple and forward, it just didn't seem...to fit the doctrine of the Jedi. They told him to be a Warrior, so that's what he became. It smacked too much of Imperial.

How could you be a Jedi if all you knew was what you were told? Wasn't free thinking and the awareness of a moral compass part of the job?

She didn't comment. Instead, she simply went back to work.

"I think so. You know, it's kind of hard to say. Once I started figuring things out I was about 5 months into my pregnancy. The more I tried to use the Force, the more restless McPu- ....the more restless the baby became. She used to go nuts while I was healing people, made me nauseous. Eventually it got so bad that Diana told me to take time off until after...well, after everything was taken care of. Once it was, and once I could get back into it again, I didn't have much chance before Teta. You're really the first real patient I've had."

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

It wasn't really a topic in which he could relate.

Avalore's pregnancy was hardly an event that he had approved. In fact, quite the opposite, he had both heartily and openly disapproved of such behaviour from fellow Jedi. Although, now in understanding how long she had been amongst their ranks it was a different story. It wasn't as if she was raised with the tenets and then decided that promiscuity was more her cup of tea.

Look at that, Hal. Learning. Understanding. Besides, you've got your back to the girl, she can't see it if you're scowling at the thought.

One part of him wished to inquire about the baby, into all areas minus the conception and the actual birth but even Hal Terrano wasn't so socially dim that he was going to poke and prod at that topic. Giving away your child. Tricky, even for the greater good. Did his own parents ever feel regret for giving him away to the temple? Let's drop that topic fast. Besides, he was hardly in the business of upsetting those that had a blade to his back.

“Do you like...this?”

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

Again she paused, hand hovering over Hal's back, "...like what?" she asked.

Avalore supposed she knew what he was asking, but had found that it was never good to assume too much with Hal.