Archive of Our Own

“Hah?” is all Zanka has to say about it.

Jabber’s ignoring everyone else in the room, grinning at Zanka exclusively. He tightens his grip on Lovely Assistaff on reflex.

“I know it’ll take a bit of adjustment,” Enjin offers.

“A bit,” Zanka cuts him off. “Are you insane? No, you guys are fuckin’ with me,” he says, because there’s no way this went through Semiu and Corvus—no one saw a problem with this?!

“Aww, c’mon, Zan-Zan. I said I’d be chill,” Jabber drawls, and the dishonesty spreads thickly over his words, dripping like warm honey. The kids can tell this guy is only here for trouble.

“Zanka, it’s fine. Anything goes wrong, it’s on me and the others that made this decision. Like I said, it’s a trial. We’re gonna keep an eye on him. Ain’t that right, Wonger?”

Jabber’s grin doesn’t fade in the least. Nor does he break eye contact with Zanka when he says, “Yup. I’m on my best behavior.”

And Enjin continues, unprompted, justifying himself when Zanka hadn’t even asked yet. “We already took in one former raider, why not another?”

“What team is he on?” Zanka asks, but the sinking pit in his stomach knows the answer.

“Team Akuta.”

“Yeah,” Jabber echoes. “Big fan of Team Aka—“ His brow furrows. “of you guyses team.”

“You guys are tryin’ ta kill me.” They have to be. No one could possibly be this—

“You’ll be fine. C’mon, morning training, then you guys are free for the day. Let’s get to it.”

Rudo is at Enjin’s heel the second he starts walking away, airing his own complaints. But it’s not so hard to get the kid on your side; Enjin will manage him expertly. Riyo walks after them, unconcerned. That just leaves the two of them. Jabber’s steady gaze remains unflinching under Zanka’s glare.

“Why’d ya leave the raiders?”

Jabber shrugs, “They moved house after y’all blew up that trash beast. I’m not so good with directions. A guy’s gotta eat though, so…”

“Bullshit,” Zanka spits. “If you fuc—“

“Come on, you two. Don’t start fighting already,” Enjin calls across the field. “Move it!”

“You heard the man,” Jabber says easily, breezing past while Zanka’s head is still turned away. “Can’t let ya be a bad influence on me already.”

It takes a steadying breath, or five, to not transform Lovely Assistaff right then and there.

“Okay,” Zanka mutters to himself. “You know how ta fix this.”

He follows Jabber’s retreating back to the training grounds.

***

Zanka tries to pull free from the vice grip on the back of his shirt, but Enjin refuses to let go. He has the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers.

He asks after a moment, “You alright, Wonger?” but Enjin’s not sure if the kid can even hear him over Jabber’s own peals of wet, raucous laughter.

“Yeah, yup! I’m good!” He jumps to his feet and curls his fingers into fists, Mankira clinking together but remaining inactive. This started the ol’ fashioned way and he wanted it to end that way. His eyes flash like street lights.

“Let ‘im go, I want another taste,” he says, wiping the blood from his philtrum. It’s already run down past his lips, staining that permanent grin red.

Zanka pulls again as if he’s been granted permission, but he still doesn’t make it far.

“Is your nose broken?”

“Prob’ly, but that ain’t nothin’. Let the kid go. If he wants smoke he can have it!”

“I’ll show ya what nothin’ is. Let me go, Enjin.”

“Can both of you shut the fuck up?” Enjin asks, voice flat. Zanka can only hear him mutter due to the forced proximity. “Couldn’t even make it through the first hour of training.”

“Jabber?” he asks, audible now.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know how to check if your nose is broken?”

It takes a second for him to break his stance, to tear his focus off Zanka long enough to lift a hand to his nose and feel around. He sniffs loudly when he’s done.

“Yeah, definitely broken. Can we get on with it now?” He drops back into his stance, itching to continue the fist fight Zanka started.

“No,” Enjin says. “Go to the infirmary.”

“Huh?! For this? This ain’t shit!”

“It’s a broken bone. Go get it fixed,” Enjin orders.

“Ugh, this is some bullshit. He doesn’t even wanna leave me hangin’. We can’t finish our fight first?”

“Yeah, you would fuckin’ like that ya freak.” And suddenly Zanka is tasting gravel as Enjin shoves him to the ground.

“Gonna give me blue balls at this rate, Zan-Zan.”

“Could you not make this worse?” Enjin sounds incredulous. Zanka’s face starts burning. Last thing he ever wants to do is upset Enjin and it’s already happening because of him.

“Jabber,” he continues. “Go.”

The kid looks left, then right, then back to Enjin. “Uhh, where’s it at?” he asks, wiping more blood away with his sleeve.

“Right,” Enjin sighs. “You wouldn’t know. Zanka! Go with him—”

“Excuse me?”

“And no fighting on the way. Show me I can still trust ya. Okay kid?”

***

“Enjin got you on a short chain,” Jabber says, not looking at him.

Zanka keeps walking. “Watch where you’re stepping.”

“Relax! I’m just sayin’. Thought you’d take a swing once we were outta sight.”

“Wipe your fuckin’ face. You’re bleeding everywhere.”

Jabber snorts. “Yeah. Didn’t think you’d go for the moneymaker first.” He wipes it away, staining the back of his wrist dark.

Silence stretches, aside from two sets of footsteps and the light breeze whispering through Eishia’s wind chimes.

“Guess you got a temper,” Jabber adds, like it’s trivia.

Zanka exhales through his nose. “You don’t know shit about me.”

Jabber smiles to himself, softer than the grin but no less insidious to Zanka. “Sure I do.”

“Could be fun,” he continues. “If ya ever cut the leash and let loose. Whatcha think?”

“I think you shouldn’t be here,” Zanka spits. “Don’t know why you came, but you should go.”

“Nah, I wanna fight the boss.” Jabber sniffs twice. Blood or swelling is making him sound nasally now. “Enjin too.”

“That all you care about?”

“No,” he says like Zanka should know better. “Wanna fight you too. If we can get away from the Feds long enough.”

Zanka stops so short that Jabber almost trips into his back. “We’re here.”

Jabber looks at the building in front of them as if it rose from the ground out of nowhere. “In there.”

“You’re looking for Eishia. Enjin probably told her you were coming. Go. And you better not touch her.”

“Who? The doctor?” All traces of that smile disappear for the first time that morning. Jabber’s slightly crooked nose wrinkles. “What for? She strong too?”

All he gives a damn about. Zanka should’ve known.

“Not in the way that matters to you. Go.”

“Man, why you rushin’ me? I heard ya the first time,” Jabber says, walking backwards towards the door, hands in his pockets. “We talk later?”

“Go,” Zanka snaps.

Jabber salutes and finally, finally listens. All that’s left to keep him company are the chimes, cheerfully tinkling with the blowing leaves.

Okay… Okay. This is gonna be harder than he thought.

Zanka leans up against the side of the infirmary and activates his choker. It’s past time Enjin heard his two cents.

“I brought him to Eishia.”

“Unharmed?”

“Not any more than when you last saw him.”

“Good! I knew you could stay cool.”

Zanka’s posture softens at the approval. His jaw unclenches. Hearing that from Enjin even takes the edge off his anger.

“Do me a favor? Can you wait for him to finish up and bring him back?”

And just like that his good mood pops like a soap bubble.

“If he’s so dangerous he needs a babysitter to walk across HQ, then you shouldn’t have brought him here.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. You’re gonna walk back anyway. You can’t wait ten minutes first?”

“I’ll think about it,” Zanka snaps down the choker and hangs up, but he’s already checking his watch to mark ten minutes from now.

***

Nine minutes later the door swings open again. Eishia walks out already talking, pointing back the direction you came.

“It’s pretty much straight ahead, but once you get to the entrance, walk behind the building.”

It’s a relief to see her unfazed. It means he was right, Jabber doesn’t have any interest if his target can’t fight back.

“And the entrance? Uh… on the left, right?”

“Yeah, it’s on the—“ Zanka decides it’s time to interrupt.

“Hey Eishia, I can take him from ya.”

“Zanka! Okay, thanks! I was worried I wasn’t explaining right. Um…” she turns back to Jabber whose gaze had already re-settled on Zanka.

“Nice meeting you! Try not to get hurt again so quickly, okay? Good luck!” she says, and it burns Zanka to have her waste her kindness on this asshole.

“Can’t lie, you’re probably gon’ see me again,” he says.

“Thank you, Eishia,” Zanka cuts in. “Hope he wasn’t too much of a pain. See you at dinner, right?”

“Oh no, not a pain at all. I’ll see you later,” and she goes back inside.

Jabber grins with teeth. The blood has all been licked away. “What’d I tell ya? On my best behavior.” His nose is straight again; his voice less tinny.

“Shut it. You know the way, so walk.” Zanka brushes past him, going on ahead.

“Hey, wait up. Damn,” Jabber half jogs behind him until they’re walking in step again. “Why you always movin’ like you late for somethin’?”

“I’m missing training ‘cause of you, ya know.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I punched myself.”

“And you said nothing to deserve that, right?”

“Nah, I know what I did. Still didn’t make you swing on me.” He glances back at the infirmary door. “Y’all got decent supplies in there.”

Zanka’s not sure what to take from that. “Yeah, no shit. We need ‘em just in case,” he settles on. “Why?”

“Everything need a reason?” He shrugs, letting Zanka pace a few steps ahead of him. “Simple observation, Zan-zan.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Zanka can feel the stare on the back of his neck instead of seeing it now. He can’t tell if that’s worse. It feels worse.

“Do you always listen when he tells ya not to fight?” Jabber asks.

“It hasn’t come up much. Some of us have restraint.”

“’Cept you, right? Earlier, at least,” he points out—shoves it in Zanka’s face, it feels like—though he said it in the same mild, curious tone he’s posed all his stupid questions with. “You ever ignore him?”

“Would you fuckin’ drop it? We’re almost back.”

“Hm…” Jabber hums. “We get to finish our fight when we get over there?”

“No, we weren’t even supposed to be sparring.”

“Cool. So when do we run it back, then?”

Zanka grits his teeth. “Ask one more question, and I’m gonna beat your ass.”

Jabber’s shadow eclipses the sun beaming down on him, the distance closing in a second.

“You mean that?” he drawls way too close to Zanka’s ear. He jumps away, nearly a foot, turning to face Jabber’s satisfied smirk.

What is it with him? What does he want? Is it really just any old job and a few good fights? No matter how hard Zanka stares at his face, he can’t make heads or tails of it. But that can’t be all.

“Oh, you guys are back.”

Zanka turns again, just as quickly as before. Enjin raises a brow at his urgency. “Easy there, kid,” he says. “Thanks for helping out with that, Zanka. You two ready to come back to training?”

“I’m good whenever you are,” Jabber says, hands in his pockets, the picture of easy confidence.

Zanka’s going to fucking scream.