Awakened by the scrapes and clanks and mutterings, Abel sat up in his bed. Having been asleep only a short time, he only had a little bit of bleariness to work through. When he sat up, he slightly surprised Shiro, who had been too absorbed in his tinkering to take much notice of him after his initial moments in the room, and had subsequently forgotten him. Abel rubbed his cranium, thinking more time had passed than it had been. In reality, it was fairly early to go to bed for a teenager; the clock couldn't have read more than 8:30. Either the Guardian was really tired, or a really big sleeper. After leaving the infirmary, he had stopped at the cafeteria for a quick meal in solitude and returned here, not bothering to open his bags tonight. His armor, shoes, and coat were scattered across his corner of the room. 

Abel seemed fairly surprised to see Shiro there as well. Out of everyone to return, Abel had guessed that the memory-loser would be the last—he hadn't really considered the severity of Bridgett's condition in comparison. Without much conviction, he hailed Shiro with “G'night,” and collapsed again.

Only a few minutes later the scroll-bearer arrived. Naturally this stirred Abel and garnered his attention. He took his scroll gingerly, wary that he might break the little, highly-technological card in his hand. “Dog tags? Real encouraling. 'Couraging. Whatever. 'S cool. I guess.” With all the delicacy a half-asleep boy could muster, he slipped the scroll into the pocket of his coat before shambling back into bed. Clearly, he wasn't utterly fascinated by the new devices. He did, however, manage a somewhat genial pat on Shiro's shoulder as he passed, taking care not to step on any of the parts strewn about the floor. While Abel liked his weapon, he knew as he sank back into bed that engineering one no longer interested him. 'Easier to get something new than to go back and screw with something I know works' he'd said to his friends back home in Pallisade.