Chapter Text
Zanka woke with a start, his body protesting as he shoots up in the hospital bed.
Instant regret. His head throbs harshly with the movement and his vision goes dark and splotchy, his body going slack as he falls ungracefully back into the bed; his stomach churning uncomfortably as he does so.
He sighs deeply as he notes just how exhausted his body feels, as if beneath his skin is pure concrete, the heaviness of which makes it an effort to do as much as lift an arm. He takes note of the room he has found himself in as his visions slowly returns, and he desperately tries to ignore how the black in his vision continues to linger at the corners of his eyes, persistently clinging on.
"How long was I out?" he wonders tiredly as he attempts to sit up again, marginally slower this time; he wasn't going to make that same mistake twice in a row.
Panic surges through him, invading his thoughts like a parasite as his mind clears enough to understand even a fraction of the situation he was in, he had obviously ended up in the infirmary, but how? And more importantly, where was his staff? Where was Lovely Assistaff?!
He whipped his head around so fast he was surprised it didn't give him whiplash as he surveyed the room, eyes scanning frantically for her. A pop of blue in the corner by his bed pulled his attention towards it. Leaning idly against the wall was his Vital Instrument, the sight of which had him breathing a sigh of relief, the tension easing out of his body at the sight of his beloved Lovely Assistaff. Leaning over the edge of the bed, he extended a hand out, the durable wood of her deactivated form greeting his fingers lovingly as he pulled her into his embrace.
After a quick once over, making sure that she was okay and hadn't sustained damage while he was out, he rested her across his lap, his breath rushing from between his teeth as he tried to relax, she was okay.
His head was pounding. The feeling in his skull vaguely familiar as he tried to stop the aches that felt as if they were slamming into his head with the beat of his heart.
He snapped to attention at the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door to the infirmary, senses heightened again at the prospect of someone seeing him so weak, so powerless. He sighs as he realises that it was likely that a lot of the Cleaners had seen him in such a sorry state anyways, and he cant help the pang of embarrassment that shoots through his chest at the thought of that even being a possibility.
Pathetic.
Zanka's forehead creases with frustration as he sifts through the barely legible memories swarming through his mess of a mind, trying to fill in the gaps and figure out exactly what had happened; how he ended up here. Obviously something had gone horribly wrong, especially with that Raider the Raider's having been involved.
He had been fighting Jabber, and had definitely landed a few decent hits with Lovely Assistaff, with Jabber reacting in kind with him unleashing Mankira's true form. Of course he had been holding back, Zanka rolled his eyes.
He had been hit at one point, the toxins in Mankira working their way through his bloodstream, and then his memories start to blur. Did he get back up? He swears he did, but there's inconsistencies in what he's remembering.
He could of sworn he remembered taking Jabber down, but then what? How did he end up here? Did he win and then pass out?
He remembers the way that Jabber looked down at him, his eyes glinting with anima as he leaned over him, the hot pink burrowing holes through him. The grin on his face as he yapped Zanka's ear off; about what? He couldn't recall, not that he would really want to with some of things that guy says anyways.
Wait…
Jabber. Standing over him. Looking down on him. Zanka, on the floor, barely lucid.
Pathetic.
Weak.
Useless.
He ground his teeth harshly into his lower lip, anger and disgust at his own incompetence searing hot through his veins. He didn't beat Jabber, and even worse than that, it was becoming increasingly more clear that he had ended up high on whatever bullshit that asshole had decided to dose him with, barely conscious on the floor, unable to even help his team. Unable to do anything.
He couldn't even stop one Raider.
The blood dripping onto his hand had Zanka retreating from the self deprecating loop of thoughts swirling like a hurricane in his head, and he pushed a shaky breath out of his chest, dislodging his teeth from his now rather swollen lip, careful to avoid blood dripping onto Lovely. There was no use dwelling on it too much, he could figure things out afterwards, surely there was a report or something that would fill in the gaps. He could make it up to his team, somehow.
Zanka was going to have to seriously review his training regiment after this, he obviously wasn't putting in anywhere near enough work that an Average Joe like him would need to invest in to work his way up, to even get close to the geniuses surrounding him.
He would have to ask who saved him, and apologise for his weakness. He remembered someone picking him up to carry him, a firm grip over his back as the contents of his stomach threatened to make a guest reappearance, though he wasn't exactly sure of who it was.
A soft knock rang out from behind the door, bringing him out of his thoughts, and Zanka looked up expectantly as the door opened and a head of red hair entered his vision.
"How are you holding up?" Riyo asked as she made her way across the room, stopping to stand by the foot of his bed.
"What happened?" He responded, unsure of whether to tell the truth or lie to protect his already damaged pride, choosing in the end to bypass the question altogether.
Riyo let out a small laugh, though the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Where do I even start?"
Zanka didn't know how to process all the information he had been given. The trash beast, the Raiders, trying to cross the border, it was a lot to process and Zanka's head was thick with a looming fog that would not dissipate no matter how hard he tried to concentrate.
Riyo had only really discussed the bulk of what everyone else had endured during the battle, unsure of how to broach the subject known as Jabber Wonger. Zanka was trying to listen intently, Riyo could tell, but even so, he had this vague faraway look in his eyes that had been there for her entire explanation.
The bed creaked faintly as Zanka leaned back, Lovely Assistaff clutched tightly in his hands like a lifeline.
"So…" he began slowly, tracing the ridges along the wood of his staff, stopping only to idly fiddle with the bandages wrapped around her instead. "Jabber." He grit the name out between his teeth, refusing to meet Riyo's gaze as he continued, a slight hesitation in his voice. "I don't know what's real and what that bastard's poisons made me think I saw; its all messed up, do ya know what happened to me?"
"Well, when I found you… Jabber had messed you up pretty bad, and you seemed pretty out of it. If I hadn't gotten there when I did…" She trailed off, choosing to stare at the wall rather than at Zanka himself.
"He was leaving when I got there" she said finally, her brow furrowed as she recalled the situation she had stumbled across when she went looking for the rest of the Cleaner's that had been dragged into the mess. Looking up at Zanka's face, she tried to change her tone, letting out a small laugh as she rubbed the back of her hair sheepishly.
"God knows what he was on, talking to himself like that, Jabber, I mean. Well I assume he was, talking to himself that is, it's not like you were gonna answer him."
Funny.
Zanka's frown deepened as she continued to talk, explaining how he was leaving the area they had fought in, Zanka hanging over his shoulder like a well earned prize. Zanka's stomach dropped at the idea, he hadn't remembered much, but he had felt comfortable enough in the others embrace that he had assumed it was a fellow Cleaner without a second thought. Damn toxins messing with his head, he shuddered at the mere idea of being in Jabber's arms, but it felt more performative than anything else.
"Wait!" He sat forward again, hands clenched into fists over his staff as he recalled something. "Did you get shot??"
Panic flitted briefly over Riyo's face as she contemplated what to tell him, letting out a sigh of relief as the door to the infirmary opened once more, Enjin and Rudo stepping into the room.
"Enjin!" Riyo said, her voice raised higher in both tone and pitch than she intended as she waved him over. "Zanka's up!" She gestured to Zanka, who, very obviously was indeed up.
Crisis averted?
Zanka sighed as the rest of Team Akuta left the room, closing the door behind them as they left, promising to visit him while he was still healing. He glanced over at the get well gifts they had brought him, and smiled softly. He appreciated them checking on him, really, but was also quite embarrassed to say the least.
He sighed as the mask of indifference he had put on around his team slipped away, the exhaustion leaking into his features as he slouched back in the hospital bed. He felt terrible. The exhaustion wracking through his body felt as if it was all the way down in his bones, leaving him feeling exhausted.
He would be fine once he was healed, he was sure.
His stomach churned with nausea as he shifted to lay in the bed properly, pulling the blanket up over himself as he did so. He groaned quietly as he wrapped his arms around himself, looking over at Lovely Assistaff (who he had made sure was comfortable in her own bed next to his) before turning over onto his back.
As he slowly drifted off to sleep, he saw those eyes staring him down again in his mind, Jabber's intense stare boring holes into his soul. What the fuck did a look like that even mean? Zanka wasn't going to let their next fight end the same way, he would make sure to put all his effort into getting stronger, he wouldn't lose like that again.