Descension

CHAPTER 14

Ben sucks in a breath through his teeth, then strains it back out. He just barely manages to part his eyes open as he regains his consciousness, a light headache ingrained into his skull. Ben groans as he places his hand to his forehead in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

Nikolai's voice calls out, "How are you feeling?"

Ben gulps. "Tense. But..." He hesitantly sits up, expecting to be hit with a scythe of pain, though finds nothing more than a gentle ache where his wounds used to be, "...better. Thank you."

"Of course." Nikolai smiles, clearing his throat as he glances over his shoulder and snaps his fingers. "May I offer you some of our pleasantries? Perhaps a drink?" Nikolai pours a shot of vodka for Ben and thrusts it into his hands.

Ben wonders if Nikolai had been drinking before--and perhaps even during--his operation.

Ben gingerly takes the shot glass from him, "After a sedative?" Ben asks, raising a brow.

Nikolai scoffs and rolls his eyes, "It was light. Please..." he purrs as he lowers his lids. "...enjoy what I have to offer. I've worked hard to be able to provide." Nikolai winks at Ben before giving him a chance to respond. "Stay put, krasivyy."

Ben groans once Nikolai leaves, setting his untouched drink on the table beside him and burying his face into his hands. Joaquin walks in and sits beside Ben. They stay silent for a little while, nothing but the sound of distant music and crowds. Ben leans forwards to grab his jacket from the sink's counter just a few feet from the table, his brows knitting as his lips frown. He stares down at the fabric, now shredded by blasters. Tears well in his eyes, though he fights to keep them from falling, sinking his teeth into his lip as he clenches his fists around the coat. He sucks in a deep breath before slipping it on, a bittersweet ache in his heart at the feeling. The shoulders and sleeves remain unscathed, though the back below the hips is completely tattered. Ben toys with an edge of melted fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

"I know..." Joaquin murmurs, "...you're inconsolable."

Ben's attention shifts to Joaquin, turning his head to face him.

Joaquin sighs, his shoulders shrugging. "And I know that indulgence feels selfish. I'm not saying you should, or it will take away the pain of... anything. What I am saying is that before you feel like giving up on Omnicore again-"

"No." Ben says, his voice jarringly sharp. He forces himself to stand up, unbalanced and trembling, his legs still weak from his injuries. "What's done is done, and what I've done is right." He states.

He slowly saunters towards the exit of the operating room, Joaquin getting up and following closely behind him to aid in his steps.

"Hey, why don't you relax, alright? I'll get you water from the bar," Joaquin says, squeezing Ben's shoulder, "Try to take your mind off of things. I know it's hard, but you've got to do it for yourself."

Ben shrugs, his eyes locked onto the floor. "I... just feel numb."

"Well, this is pleasure central. Preoccupy yourself." Joaquin pats Ben's shoulder before striding off towards the bar, smiling ruefully to him over his shoulder.

Ben crosses his arms as he surveys the building for anything interesting. Drugs nor alcohol have any appeal to him, as they cloud his focus and precision needed for his occupation. Anything that takes away from that, whether he was working or not, he despises. He can't bring himself to have any sense of libido either: too distant and, frankly, emotionally wrecked for any form of intimacy at the moment. For someone so incredibly, disastrously introverted as him, this is hell. Everything is too much, the light too dark and too bright at the same time, the oppressively cold air sinking its teeth into his skin, and it somehow seems to stink of every conceivable odor- perhaps apart from a decomposing body. Preoccupy myself. Ben sighs through his nostrils, the desire to enclose himself somewhere quiet gradually building into a need. My party trick of choice always was to disappear.