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She knew something was wrong before Phoenix had cut off from her direct comms. It was in the middle of talking about where he wanted to eat after the mission. Phoenix was in danger.
His normally easy-going, enthusiastic voice had slowed down and changed in tone after he had mentioned through their personal party comms he could do pizza if she really wanted pizza (and she did, it's been a while since she's been comfortable being in the Venice site for their missions and she wanted pizza and gelato for dessert), and he never finished saying what he'd actually prefer instead.
When she had informed everyone on team comms she was heading to his location ASAP - in the markets - she figured it would be an easy shot to the head with the auto-loading pistol she deliberately had bought due to lacking credits.
What she hadn't expected when she had dashed forward straight into markets, was Phoenix pointing a pistol at another Phoenix he'd wrestled to the ground, holding back an arm near his neck with a fancy gold and white knife she recognized in the restrained Phoenix's hand.
She didn't hesitate to aim her gun at both of them.
"Drop it, Phoenix!" Her voice had an edge of urgency to it, her gaze steely and focused. "Both of you, drop it! Up on your feet, arms in the air, now!"
The knife and pistol were dropped immediately. Both of them bolted up on their feet, facing her, empty palms held in the air as they looked at her, startled and uneasy. Jett inhaled sharply through her nostrils as she stared at each of them.
Shit. This was the last thing she wanted to find when she was looking forward to pizza and gelato with him.
This was the last thing she wanted to find, ever.
Not enough credits to fund, well, whoever was funding the Protocol with their guns? Buy a pistol and land your shots. Not enough health to push into three enemies trying to set up a Spike? Make sure to shoot first and don't miss.
But not this. Nobody wanted to deal with this. Nobody in the Protocol wanted to be at the problem solver's spot in this situation if they could pick anything else.
She saw the conflict in Phoenix's brown eyes - both of them, each looking at her - and Jett really wished she wasn't the problem solver.
Both of them identical and familiar, with those brown eyes that looked back at her with uncertainty and caution, trying to find some trace of her that they each recognized; she hated it. She hated the way their hands sort of trembled before stiffening when they noticed she noticed it, the way they each pressed their lips together tightly and remembered to breathe. She hated it. She hated it.
The Phoenix who had been on the ground inhaled through his nose before his eyebrows creased.
He breathed out, and Jett could feel a tightness and pain in her chest already beginning to form as that Phoenix opened his mouth.
"Jett, it's me, I swear it's - "
She turned to him and fired her gun immediately.
He collapsed to the ground just seconds after, smoke trailing off of his body. Phoenix's expensive knife and pistol laid next to his head that she'd just fired at.
She ignored looking at him deliberately and focused back on the Phoenix still standing. He stared back at her, panting heavily with wide eyes that were trembling. Her arms were shaking now, but regardless, she kept her finger on the trigger, clenching her jaw as she kept her eyes locked on Phoenix.
"Two plus two?" Jett breathed, and Phoenix's response was instant.
"Fish."
Her back foot shifted as she readjusted her stance carefully.
"Banchan means?"
"Side dish."
"Shooting star?"
"Make a wish."
Each response, instant and short; no sign of hesitation, no pause between question and answer. One more.
"Where's that smile, Pretty Boy?" she asked quietly.
That's when she saw Phoenix finally shift on his foot casually and smile back at her, hands still raised as he replied back to her in a softer tone.
"Left it in my other jacket, Wind Girl."
With that, Jett's shoulders slumped and her whole stance staggered.
The firmness in her face washed away like a wave; she stumbled towards the brick walls within the vendor stall to lean against them. Her pistol slid out of her fingers, dropping into a shelf of vegetables, and she sighed out in such a way that it prompted Phoenix to ignore the knife and pistol on the ground and run up to her.
"Shit," she gasped, and she didn't even realize she was shaking until Phoenix was helping her stand properly and holding her arms. "Shit, I…"
He pulled her body towards him. He held her tightly; he held her warmly. She couldn't even bring herself to lift her arms up to hug him back as he spoke to her in that same soft tone from before.
"I know, Jett, I know. It's peak; rotten, dreadful. Feels awful. I'm sorry." His hand found the back of her head, fingers ruffling her hair. "Shit, fam; should've asked me about what I actually felt like eating, which by the way, at this point, it's pizza, I don't give a fuck. Or, y'know, just left it as the maths question. Like what's he gonna do, say four?"
She buried her face into his chest; he smelled of sweat and dust, of gunpowder and ash. He smelled familiar. She ended up turning her head to the side so her voice wasn't muffled; so she wasn't gonna lose it and start sobbing into his arms like some fragile weak person, or whatever she convinced herself was fragile and weak.
"They could've tapped into our comms or something; they might accidentally have the same shit we do…something like that. Their Cypher's annoying like that; you know how it is."
"I do, and I think this is even more of a reason why I'm right and we gotta add that handshake, you know what I mean?"
She huffed lightly, trying to laugh. It wasn't working. She felt a lump in her throat. She ignored it and blinked furiously as she felt moisture in her eyes.
"You saw what he did, right? That's messed up, dude; like, the moment he opened his stupid big mouth, I knew. I just couldn't believe he did that to me." She swiped her fingers over her eyes, hand lowering to her mouth as she shook her head. "I thought we agreed to not do that shit to each other. Like, an honour code."
When she opened her eyes and looked up, he was looking down at her with a smirk that didn't quite extend to his whole face, and she wondered how much of that calm coolness was a front not just for her own mental, but for his.
"He didn't promise shit to you, Jett; none of them did. But I promised you, didn't I? We promised it to each other, didn't we?"
He gently squeezed the side of her arms, and his eyes sparkled.
"If I ever tell you that I'm your Phoenix - you shoot me right in the head like you did to him, you got that? No more warning shot shit; just, exactly like how you did it to that bellend. Make it clean, make it nice. I don't wanna suffer just because I go soft on you on the field, yeah?"
This time, the laugh she gave back felt more genuine, and it was fucked up how relieved she felt right now.
It didn't feel right; this wasn't normal. She was never normal, and neither was he, but what would her family and friends back in her old life say to her? She knew she probably felt exactly the same way and just wasn't thinking about it too hard. How could what he said ever be okay? What if she had actually killed him?
Would this be how it would be forever? Was this the cost of saving their world?
"What, I can't have a little fun before I kill you?" she muttered back, and this time, his smile reached his eyes as he tried laughing back.
"You can have my jacket, you can have my shoes, and you can have my life, but at least fucking take them right away, alright, Jett? That's what we agreed to."
This was so fucked up.
"You do the same to me then, and make sure Yoru gets my knives. I don't trust you enough with them, Pretty Boy."
This was so warm and comforting.
"Still? I'm gutted, Jett!" He pouted deliberately, shaking her arms lightly, and she scoffed smugly back at him. "What, I can't even have one? Just one?"
"Nope! My knives, Phoenix. You leave me one when you burn me at the Viking funeral, and then burn me with your jacket. It's the least you can do for me."
He let go of her, and she ignored him walking back to his Mirror's body. She heard Phoenix crouch next to his body to grab his gun and the knife that had dropped, and she kept her attention on the shelf of vegetables where her own gun had landed.
Even then, she made sure she could only pay attention to the way his sneakers squeaked and his clothes rustled, the way she heard him reloading his gun.
She focused back on the way his voice sounded when he huffed back at her.
"Over my dead body, Jett."
Was her Mirror going to be upset when she found their Phoenix's body? What was their relationship like? Was their Jett going to be okay?
Why did she fucking care after what their Phoenix tried to pull? It wasn't like their Phoenix belonged to them or was the same Phoenix.
Jett reached back for her gun inside the produce, brushing loose strands of her white hair away from her face, before she glanced back at Phoenix - her Phoenix, who she would trust with her own life if he had to take it too - and rolled her eyes.
"I know, Pretty Boy. Now come on; I'm starving, and I want my pizza."