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Zanka set his stuff down in the doorway, practically on the verge of tears, as much as he'd hate to admit it. The nauseating pounding in the back of his head making it hard to bear anything. He squeezed his eyes shut and tensed his jaw, hard enough to grit his teeth. His head throbbed as if someone was trying to crush his brain from the inside out.
He held his breath as he opened his eyes, pain making it hard to think about what he even needed.
Medication, whatever they had. Maybe Jabber keeps some good shit that might actually help, he'll ask when he gets back from… Whatever he's out doing, he didn't care enough to remember at the moment.
Walking to the bathroom, he entered and turned on the light, his head doubled down on it's internal suicide, and then he promptly turned off the light. He figures he'll be able to feel the shape of the ibuprofen bottle in the dark, like all normal college students.
Successfully, he obtained the medication and took the pills dry, like some kind of freaky addict that he may or may not know.
Since that endeavors now complete, Zanka sighs and massages the stiff nape of his neck, groaning.
He now went to his desk, stupidly naive enough to believe he could not only read and comprehend text, but also remember said words.
Zanka's head practically keeled over and died when he turned on his lamp to be able to see the words, and tears welled in his eyes for whatever reason. He squeezed them shut and a low almost whine escaped him from the sudden blinding pain.
Zanka Nijiku does not cry from pain, and this isn't even the worst he's ever experienced. He's not going to let this stop him, he just needs to get over this.
He looked down at the page, something about something on there, he does even read it because his brain is too busy screaming at him as tears fall from his eyes and he chokes on a sob he didn't realize was building.
He curls his legs to his chest in his chair, resting his forehead on his knees and giving up. Far too quickly, he thinks.
This is why he wasn't smart enough for the full scholarship, or for his families prestige, or for anyone really. If he was a natural talent, if he was actually smart and not scraping by on luck and pity, this wouldn't be a problem. He wouldn't need to study for every little quiz and test, he wouldn't have to ruin his sleep schedule on simple things that anybody should know. He doesn't deserve to be in this damn college, he was too dense and idiotic to even work through this, let alone a full 4 years of a good school.
Tears were now dripping freely, and it likely wasn't just a by product of the migraine. Though it was still probably because of the migraine, he told himself.
"Heeeyyyyy Zan-Zan~"
A voice rang out from behind him, an annoying voice grating like sandpaper. At first it's just pain, but then the dread sinks in, sharp and embarrassing.
Jabber can't see him like this.
Instantaneously, he sniffs and his pain worsens but for a split second he can't even care. He turns his head in the opposite direction he heard Jabbers voice. Trying to stop the tears as fast as possible, get himself together because knowing Jabber, seeing him like this would be the topic of teasing for who knows how long.
Jabber sets a too-rough pat on Zanka's shoulder and he flinches hard seemingly in pain, "Fuck off, Jabber." He curses, trying to be left alone as the annoyance returns in tenfold. His voice, despite being a bit off from crying, holds more bite than usual banter, and Jabber notices immediately and retracts his hand.
"D'ya get a bad grade or sum'?" Jabber inquires now, scanning the set in front of him.
Books open with drying tear stains, an empty note book page with a pen strewn next to it, Zanka curled into a ball, voice strained. Zanka then looks up with his eyes squeezed closed, tears still visibly sitting in the corners of his eyes.
Jabber tried to put something together, but he's never been good at that whole 'Reading people' shit.
"Go bother yer… Damn plants… or somethin', leave me alone." Zanka's insult didn't have the usual witty edge, and sounded more desperate than annoyed. It made something close to guilt pang in his chest.
"I ain't feelin the whole 'Herbal drug' route today," Jabber lies. He was actually prepared to do some hard shit today, but this seemed much more important. "What gotcha all like this man?"
"Nothin' you can do about it, why would ya care?"
"Cause my favorite roomie ain't being no fun, and I'm tryna be annoying. Can't do that if ya actually pissed bout sum'"
"Just gotta study." Zanka looks back at his desk, physically wincing when he opens his eyes.
Then it clicks, the tears, the sensitivity, the pissed off mood.
"No ya don't, get up." He turns off the desk lamp, and closes Zanka's books.
"What the hell 're you doin?" Zanka asked, grabbing Jabbers wrist when he went to put the cap on his pen.
"You gotta get off this shit or you ain't gonna be able to function at all in a few hours. The more you push through this kind of thing the longer it gon' take to get out of it. And then you ain't gonna be no fun for daaayyssss." Jabber easily freed his hand, and finished
"The hell you mean?"
"You clearly got a migraine of sorts goin' on. I know ya man." He pointed out finally.
Zanka got quiet.
"I didn't even say that." He mumbled, now embarrassed. In the 5 minute span Jabbers been here, he's managed to make him pissed, annoyed, embarrassed… But there was a weird cathartic feeling at the last thing Jabber had said.
"I got a couple before, nothin we can do 'cept sleep it off, So get off ya dumb ass and go take a nap. I can't have you try my shit with me if you get hospitalized."
Zanka didn't want to do what this dumb stoner said, but his head was protesting against every effort made to continue studying, and when that light was turned off, it being the only one on other than the light from windows, it felt as if he could think about anything than the pain or his failure for a moment. And the prospect of closing his eyes seemed too good to pass up. So his resolve was little to none.
And yet, that nagging voice spoke up in his head-
"A Ah ah, nope." Jabber shook his head, :You ain't gonna get all self-deprecate-y right now." Jabber now spoke again, now grabbing the chair and physically pulling him away from the desk.
"Fuck- Watch it asshole-" Zanka protested, almost falling forward out of his chair. The sudden movement made his head pound again, and a wave of nausea hit him.
The pain in his voice and the teary eyed glare Jabber was met with caused another wave of something like guilt to eat at him.
"Sorry, sorry, my bad." He raised his hands in a surrendering position. "But you were thinking so loud I think the ladies in the cafeteria could hear, didn't want none of that. You takin a break, right now, no 'ifs' 'ands' or 'buts' about it."
Zanka took a deep breath, trying to let his pain go to anything but annoyance. This fuckin guy…
"Fine. Fine. Since ya gotta be so damn pushy about it, I'll take tha' damn break." He stood regrettably as his head swam and basically screamed. Vision swimming with blind spots, and his stomach dropping. He squeezed his eyes again, clenching his fist, a sharp gasping wince giving away the amount of pain he was in.
The pain made him feel as if he was going to faint where he barely stood. Nausea and hell building somewhere between his gut and his brain, it ruminated down his spine and fixated behind his eyes, he wanted to take a rock and bash it through his skull.
"Easy there Zan-Zan, no rushin'" Jabber tried to be gentle, which was odd for him. Offering a comforting hand to Zanka's back. Zanka reached up and grabbed Jabbers arm hard, nails digging into skin. "Lets go lay down, yeah?"
Something about this felt so wildly foreign to their normal dynamic, Zanka didn't actually give a fuck right now.
He let out a shaky exhale, "Yeah."
Once sitting in his bed, Jabber stayed standing, "I'll get you some real good painkillers, oughta knock you out too." and walked away from his bedroom.
As soon as Jabber turned around and took a few steps out, Zanka layed back in his bed, his arm over his eyes to try to block out what already little light there was. Tears now rolled freely, as they had been, but now he was aware of it. Methodical breaths were all that Zanka wanted to focus on. Not his weakness, not his incompetence, not his failings, not any of this. Just in 4 seconds,
A slightly gasping sob,
out 4 seconds.
"Fuck." Zanka cursed on his exhale, as shaky breaths made their way through his chest. He brought a hand to his chest, and gripped his loosely fitting shirt. He felt hella dramatic like this, as he turned to his side and curled in on himself, back to the doorway. He felt like a whining baby. He tried to hold it together, he really was. But it hurt, and hurt, and he was pissed at being hurt, and having no control over it.
"Back Zan-Zan. Got some good shit." Jabber assured, after maybe 3 minutes. He didn't want to make this about him, but something was fucking aching in his body at seeing Zanka like this. he didn't even really acknowledge him other than poorly trying to get himself together. "C'mere man, gonna give you this then you can pass out for a good 15 hours." He sat on the edge of the bed, holding the homemade remedy in his hand.
"One… one sec." Zanka mumbled.
Zanka barely moved, still rapidly trying to wipe tears away. Jabber tried to offer some words of comfort, it was worth a shot and better than seeing this. Because fuck. The pained breaths and tears were starting to hurt worse than any toxin he ever gave himself, and he couldn't even enjoy it. "Get over it man, no judgment, the shit sucks, you allowed to be hurting. Ain't nothing weak about it cause you still doing great, doin' better than others when they ain't got half the problems you do." Jabber sighed, reaching out to Zanka to maybe try to move him enough to give him some meds, but kept talking. "Got mad respect for you, despite how much I fuck wit' ya'"
He didn't fight it, and that worried Jabber more than any of the signs so far. "This stuff is homemade, don't remember exactly what I got in there, but I know it helps, it helped me some months ago. Don't know if ya remember, locked myself up in my room all loner-type. It wasn't bad as yours though, I'mma baby 'bout that typa thing." As he spoke, Zanka sat half-up, still breathing manually. "Here ya go," Jabber held out the little shot-sized cup, and he downed it quickly. Face souring at it's taste.
"The hell ya put in here man-" His face was scrunched, and he stuck his tongue out to try to douse the lingering after taste.
"Plants n shit, told ya I don't know off the top of my head." Jabber grinned now, seeing Zanka react normally being a relief.
"Fuckin' nasty… Never lettin' ya do that again." Zanka didn't exactly feel better, but with Jabbers constant yapping, his stupid head quieted enough to at least try to save some kind of face despite his embarrassing display just moments ago.
"Well ya drank it anyway, soooo you gotta 'preciate me some" He smiled, standing again. "But I'll leave ya 'lone now. Once that kicks in you'll be out in minutes, gave you a higher dose too, I know ya got some tolerance so hopefully it oughta work faster for ya."
Something like the before dread spread in Zanka, he began to speak "Nah, why don't ya.." He realized his mistake too slowly cutting himself off, Jabber wouldn't want to stick with him like this. Whiny and bitchy, and he'd be asleep soon anyway.
Jabber stopped walking though, turning with a shit eating grin. "Why don't I…?" He giggled. "Whats that Za-Za, ya want me to staayyyy?" He kept his voice quiet despite his teasing tone.
Well the dread was replaced with embarrassment for what felt like the tenth time in an hour, his head hurt too much too really believably say anything not incriminating. "Jus fuckin'. Lay down, asshole."
"If you insiisssttttt~" He sat and layed next to him, smiling still.
"Fuck off.." Zanka rolled his eyes, but then despite his better judgment, he latched onto Jabber, wrapping his arms and legs around him and resting his head on his chest. Jabber laid still and just let it happen.
His breathing became less strained as the exhaustion relaxed him in waves, his head was still hurting like all hell, and he wasn't going to feel great when he woke up, but whatever was in that medicine muddled his thoughts, softening everything just slightly.
Jabber noticed the evening out of his breathing, and quietly said, "Night night Zan-Zan," too much affection in his voice that he was hoping wouldn't be read into.
Zanka blinked lazily, and then he allowed his eyes to stay closed. Falling asleep to hopefully escape the aching for a few hours.