There were days when Damaeo wished his head would just explode. He felt that way more often when he got sick. And since he was currently in the midst of battling Tacian flu, Damaeo would have kissed the feet of the person kind enough to just kill him and end his misery. He had stumbled into the infirmary after waking up feeling like a speeder had used him as a bumper. After examining him, a healer had immediately ordered him to be quarantined. Tacian flu was horribly contagious. The redheaded Master's innocent trip to the infirmary, ended in him infecting a few healers and even a few innocent wayward patients. An-Paj, in his haste to get Damaeo quarantined, simply sealed him to his own quarters. “Take fluids and follow the instructions on the medication and you’ll be up and about in no time,” assured the healer, all the while staying a good ten feet away from the dangerously wavering Master as he stumbled into his quarters. “No one must come in contact with you.” “Neela’s staying with Master Soov until I get better,” Damaeo tried to communicate. It was difficult as he could barely force his own tongue to work. An-Paj only smiled, not that Damaeo could see it from the distance that separated them. “Good. Call us if you need anything. We’ll be able to make special arrangements if something drastic happens.” “Drastic?” “I’m not much of a wordsmith,” replied the blue healer, watching the redhead fall onto the nearest couch. “Sorry for infecting your patients,” came a regretful mutter. “Oh, Padawan Kenobi has suffered worse than Tacian flu,” assured An-Paj cheerfully before closing and sealing the door to Damaeo’s quarters. Time sort of meshed in Damaeo’s fevered mind. Every once in awhile, he thought to get up and actually try and make it to bed but the thought of movement did not sit well with his body. His skin felt overly sensitive, even his breathing caused shifting on his clothes and sent tiny pinpricks of pain over his body. The Jedi Master was working his energy to try and at least turn over as his left side was growing numb. He hated to be much of a bother to An-Paj, especially after infecting part of his staff and patients but he began to see how his condition could be labeled as drastic. In the least, insufferable. The apartment was horrifically empty with the absence of Neela's presence. The padawan had periodically sent messages to Damaeo through their bond, asking with great concern how he was feeling. But after a time, she stopped, allowing her master to get some rest. Staring up at the ceiling now with glazed eyes, Damaeo felt the gravity of being alone by tenfold. Despite being sicker than he could remember in recent years, he wouldn't have minded having someone here to just be around him. A small shuffling sound suddenly broke the drowning silence. Startled, the redhead attempted to lift himself from his couch to see what it was and succeeded in landing in an inelegant heap on the floor. "Oh, for crying out loud!" exclaimed an unseen voice. It sounded strangely familiar to Damaeo but the Jedi Master had begun to wonder if perhaps he was hallucinating. When a face filtered into his watery vision, Damaeo was sure he was now hallucinating. "Lewix?" "What are you trying to do? Get a broken arm on top of everything else?" asked the wry Jedi. "What? When d'you get in here? Am I having some...dream?" Damaeo felt someone take him around the shoulders and help him back on the couch. "You were sleeping when I came in. I was getting your medication ready when I heard you do that nice swan dive," spoke Lewix. "Oh," replied Damaeo, feeling doubly foolish and confused. A cool hand pressed against his forehead. It felt really nice as it felt like his head was at the same core temperature as the Bakaran Deserts. "Yeah, you need to take your medication now," diagnosed Lewix, his dark eyes appraising Damaeo's flushed features. Damaeo thought to nod in agreement but was afraid of moving his head. He slumped back onto the pillows of the couch. His eyes remained unfocused, though his mind tried to piece together something. But before he could put his finger on it, a cup was being pressed against his lips. "It's not that bitter," assured Lewix, tipping the warm liquid down the other man's throat. Damaeo took tentative sips at it, letting the almost sweet, tart mixture go down his throat, soothing it. His blue eyes flickered up to see Lewix studiously tilting the cup, allowing him to drink. Finally, Damaeo realized what was bothering him. "Hey!" protested Lewix as Damaeo suddenly moved to try and get away from him. The unexpected shift caused some of the liquid to spill on both of them. "You'll get sick!" exclaimed Damaeo in a croaking voice. His body protested at his sudden movement as he pressed himself against the couch and decided to rebel by throwing a dizzy spell at him. "Don't use that excuse to try and get out of taking your medication," remarked Lewix, as he shook his hand to flick off some of the tea that had splashed on him. "I have the flu," Damaeo protested again. "No kidding? I thought you just always looked like that," Lewix replied with quirked eyebrows. "How...how did you get in here? An-Paj sealed me in," asked the redhead, looking around the room as his mind became slowly more alert to how improbable it was that his friend could be in his room. "I hacked through the security. An-Paj always uses the same code. You'd think after all these years he'd get more creative and not continue to use his birthday," Lewix remarked. Damaeo only looked at him with disbelieving eyes. "I'll make you some more tea," he offered. "Wait...Lew, you have to leave. You'll get sick," ordered Damaeo. "I'll be fine by myself." "Is that why you were on the verge of calling in An-Paj from desperate lonliness a few hours ago?" asked Lewix. At the startled look on his friend's face, the younger Jedi smiled. "Your thoughts can travel rather wide and far when you're sick, did you know that?" "Uh..no," admitted Damaeo. "Besides, I've had the flu before. Maybe I'll be immune the second time around." Damaeo thought to argue with that logic but he felt too tired to come up with a good counter point. Even if he did, he wasn't sure he'd have the energy to voice it. And besides, as selfish as it felt, he liked having some company. He hadn't seen Lewix in quite some time. The younger Jedi had spent most of his first year as a Knight going from mission to mission. That hadn't startled Damaeo too much, though he had been surprised to learn that Lewix had quit being a mind healer and had taken on duties as a fully active field knight. Since his childhood, Lewix had always wanted to be a mind healer. It was a dream he had often discussed with Damaeo and the older Jedi had be startled to learn the younger man had abandoned his plans. He had wanted to ask Lewix his reasons but had found it difficult to even meet up with the busy knight who practically left the Temple as soon as his foot came in it after one completed mission. While Damaeo understood the workaholic mentality Lewix had adopted shortly after Tolm's institutionalization, it hadn't prevented him from missing his friend. He hadn't seen Lewix face to face for almost a year now. He hadn't even known the younger Jedi was even back. "When did you get back?" asked Damaeo as Lewix carefully poured another batch of tea into the cup. "A few hours ago, actually," answered the knight, truthfully. "I went to the infirmary where An-Paj told me about your little trip there." "Oh," replied Damaeo, taking the cup to sip at. "Why did you go to the infirmary?" he asked. "I have a concussion." "Huh?" "I got a crack on the head by a rather infuriated Wookie on my last mission. Did you know that blasters can be modified to shoot lead pellets? I didn't until one of them hit me across my head," stated Lewix with a flippant tone. "What?!" "Don't spill another one, please," said Lewix as the cup in Damaeo's hand nearly flew out. "Wha...shouldn't you be lying down?" demanded Damaeo, getting up. "Not as much as you," replied Lewix, pushing the taller Jedi back onto the couch. "An-Paj already treated me, see?" Tilting his head, Lewix parted a section of his dark hair to reveal a slight scar left by the bacta treatment. "But...you have a concussion," Damaeo protested. "Yes, which means I need to keep myself busy from falling asleep for 24 hours," said Lewix, firmly. "You should have stayed in the infirmary," scolded Damaeo. Or at least he tried, he doubted he looked very authoritative at the moment. "And listened to that Kenobi kid cough up a storm? He's worse than you are with this flu," said Lewix, wryly. He plucked the now empty cup from Damaeo's hand and pressed his hand to the redhead's forehead. "Okay, that should help. Get some sleep." "Go home," ordered Damaeo. "I'll fall asleep." "Go back to the infirmary, then." "Didn't you hear me mention Kenobi? Kid complains more than you do and his room was three doors away from mine," exclaimed Lewix. "Lew-" "Are you trying to tell me you don't like my company?" asked Lewix with a teasing glint. "No! That's not the point! Of course I like your company. I've missed it for nearly a year!" "Well, then. Shut up and get some rest then. I'll stick around." Damaeo opened his mouth again to protest but found his eyes getting suddenly heavy. Did he put...sneaky little... "Get some sleep, Damaeo," ordered Lewix and felt remarkably satisfied as the other Jedi did indeed fall asleep under the light sedative he had mixed in with the medication. +++++++++++++++ His head still felt slightly fuzzy as he rose to consciousness. But the ringing feeling in his ears was gone as Damaeo groggily opened his eyes. It was nighttime, according to the flickering city lights of Coruscant at his window. He had slept the entire day away. But he felt much better and decided it had been worth it. He had had the strangest dream of Lewix making him tea. Or so he thought until he shifted his head to the side to see the dark-haired Jedi fast asleep in a chair next to the couch he was lying on. Lewix was breathing deeply with his arms crossed across his chest, his legs stretched out in front of him, looking rather uncomfortable. Damaeo stared at the slumbering figure for a few moments in slight confusion before he realized it hadn't been a dream. Lewix had come and made him tea. The dark-haired Jedi looked fairly exhausted himself by Damaeo's now more clearer vision. The dark circles under his friend's eyes looked more pronounced in his pale face. Damaeo thought to let him sleep when he suddenly remembered something. Hadn't Lewix said something about a concussion? Something about staying awake for 24 hours? Images of Lewix falling into a coma filled Damaeo's head. Panicking, the Jedi Master threw out an arm to rouse the younger man. "Lewix! Lewix, wake up!" he demanded. His voice was frustratingly hoarse and didn't have the volume he was hoping for. Damaeo's panic increased as Lewix slept on, not even moving. "Lewix! Wake up!" With one forceful move, Damaeo pushed himself as far off the couch as possible to try and shake Lewix's arm. Unfortunately, he miscalculated his trajectory and ended up knocking himself off the couch and Lewix off his chair. "Ow! Dammit!" exclaimed Lewix at the rude wake up. He rubbed at his eyes, noticing both he and Damaeo were now in a heap on the hard floor. "The heck is the matter with you?" he demanded to the redhead who was looking at him with incredibly concerned eyes. "You fell asleep!" Damaeo exclaimed, his voice still hoarse. "What?" "You fell asleep! You have a concussion! You could have died from it, idiot!" Damaeo would have been shouting had he been able to. Lewix looked slightly confused for a few moments, his brow furrowed. Finally, realization dawned in the dark eyes. "Damaeo, calm down. It's been over 36 hours since I told you that," he said. It was Damaeo's turn to look confused. "What?" "You've been sleeping for a day and a half." "But it's..." Damaeo's voice trailed off as he realized it was nighttime but on the second day. "Oh." "I was getting some sleep finally," explained Lewix. "Oh.....sorry," apologized Damaeo, feeling foolish. "Yeah, no problem," Lewix brushed off, as he took Damaeo's arm to help him back on his couch. "I'm really sorry. I just panicked when I saw you sleeping," he explained in an embarrassed tone. "You did it because you care. I'll forgive you," Lewix assured in a light tone. He grabbed the fallen blankets and piled it back on Damaeo. "Well, it feels like your fever's gone. How do you feel?" "Sore." "Not surprising after your second swan dive." "Sorry." Righting his chair, Lewix stretched his arms above his head, stifling a yawn. "I was having such a nice dream too. Oh well." He sat back down in his chair, giving Damaeo a tired half smile. The redhead regarded him carefully with more awake eyes. "You should go home and get some proper rest." "I might do that," agreed Lewix, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I don't think my body enjoyed sleeping half bent." "Go home." "I'll wait around until you go back to bed." "I'm pretty awake now, actually." "Want some tea?" offered Lewix, innocently. "So you can drug me again?" returned Damaeo, knowingly. "Ah, so you figured that out, eh?" Lewix grinned. "Sneaky." "Hey, it got you to sleep didn't it?" "Yeah, so much so that I lost track of time and ended up throwing you off your chair!" retorted Damaeo, half laughing. Lewix returned the soft laugh before both settled into a momentary silence. "I haven't seen you in awhile, Lewix," said Damaeo. "So you said before." "How're you doing?" he asked. "Okay. Been busy," Lewix answered. It was small but Damaeo could already seen a slightly guarded expression reach Lewix's eyes again. "Can I ask you a question?" said the redhead, deciding to take the rare opportunity that he got to see Lewix. "Okay," the other man allowed. "Why did you quit being a mind healer?" he asked. Lewix's lips tightened into a humorless half smile. "Why do you ask?" "Well...that's all you ever wanted to do when you were a kid. And you're good at being a healer," he added, indicating the current situation. Lewix shook his head. "I'm not that good at it. Especially not that good at being a mind healer. It's a difficult profession." "Never known you to quit at anything," remarked Damaeo, tucking himself further into the warm blankets. Lewix shrugged. "There's a first time for everything." "Come on, Lew. I'm sick. Indulge me," he pressed. The younger man gave him a look. "That is SO not fair a tactic." "I'll use what I can," commented Damaeo with an innocent smile. But he took on a more sober expression as Lewix frowned in contemplation. After a few minutes, Lewix's eyes remained concentrated on his hands that lay folded on his lap as he leaned back in his chair. "Being a mind healer means having to do a lot of treatment using the Force. You have to use it to speak to someone to their minds. Send them messages through the Force, mostly," he said in a slightly lectured tone. Damaeo nodded. He knew that well enough. "I got a lot of training on how to do that. It was pretty easy at first. And I was good at it," admitted Lewix, his eyes concentrating on the laced formation of his fingers. "But I'm not so comfortable doing it anymore. It feels...wrong now somehow." "But it's not. You're treating patients, not violating their minds like what happened to- like what happened," amended Damaeo, quickly. He knew he was entering very dangerously sensitive territory for Lewix. But his friend looked rather resigned as he finally looked at Damaeo with his dark eyes. "I know. But still....I'm not very good at it anymore. I get too bogged down by other things," he said, quietly. Silence fell about the room again for a few more moments before Lewix got to his feet. "I'm might take your suggestion and go for bed. How do you feel?" he asked. "Better," answered Damaeo, feeling sorry he had lost the chance to talk to Lewix about other things rather than bring up old pains so soon. "Thank you for hacking into my room. I really appreciate it," he said, honestly. "Sure," said Lewix, in a casual tone as he stretched again. "I'm gonna go then and get some sleep. I have a meeting with the Council in a few hours." "Already?" "I like being busy," remarked the younger man. Gathering his own robe, Lewix felt his own head. "No fever. Not feeling ill. Told you I wasn't going to get sick," he said to his friend with a tired but triumphant look. Damaeo smiled back. "Yeah, you were right. As usual." |
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| Calling It A Sick Day By Jedi Joon |
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