Archive of Our Own

Today is April 7th, Zanka and Jabber’s wedding anniversary.

It’s the middle of springtime, the birds are out, the wind carries that familiar comforting breeze, and the sun is beaming just enough to give a warmth that allows Zanka to wear just a pair of jeans and a breathable t-shirt.

Zanka is walking down the street from their house into the nearby flower shop, the same one that Jabber goes to everyday to get Zanka his own bouquet.

It was a habit that Jabber picked up when they first got together that was pretty cute. Knowing that his boyfriend held enough love for him that he would be willing to take time out of his day to get him a fresh assortment every day.

Zanka had even asked Jabber why he still did it even after they tied the knot.

“It’s not like you’re still courting me or whatever. We’re married already,” Zanka had said.

”Being married would never stop me from showing that I love you, Zanka,” Jabber had replied with a smile while handing the flowers over to him.

Though Zanka never picked up the habit, he still grabs flowers for Jabber on the more important occasions. Such as today.

The bell above the door lets out a ‘ding’ as he walks in and Zanka is suddenly punched with that over-powering sweet smell of flowers.

The flower shop has endless options of assorted bouquets lining the shelves along the walls and Zanka never fails to feel a bit overwhelmed with the insane amount of variety.

Instead of searching through all of the bloom, he heads straight to the cashier, a sweet young lady — Kiera — that helps run this store alongside the owner, her mother.

“Hey, Mr. Nijiku. What brings you in today?” She asks.

Her hair is black with bright red highlights and pulled back into a ponytail that swings as she speaks. She reminds Zanka of an animated character, she’s too bubbly for his liking.

“Ah, it’s my and Jabber’s anniversary today.” He starts. And he’s about to keep going when she suddenly says,

“Oh it’s that time of the year already, huh?” Her eyes morph into a look of pity.

He hates that look. He’s seen it so much these past two years and he doesn’t want it aimed in his direction any more. He has already gone through the grief — mostly — and he doesn’t need to be constantly reminded of what he lost.

“Ah yeah, it really is. Time just goes… pretty fast I guess.” He smiles, or at least tries to. But it’s hard to hide his discomfort.

“It must be so hard for you. I’m really sorry abo-”

“Yeah, okay I get it. I understand you’re trying to share your condolences, but just…” He groans, placing his hands down on the counter roughly, “Could you just… let me get my flowers?”

Kiera is stunned into silence, but she bounces back quickly anyway. She must understand where he’s coming from, “Yeah of course. What do you need from me?”

“I was wondering if you had any flowers that kind of said… ‘You’re my soulmate, and I will love you forever’?” He murmurs, slowly losing confidence as he speaks.

He’s so out of his element here and he feels so lost. His fingers are picking at a hangnail and It’s moments like these where he wishes Jabber was by his side to guide him through the things that he’s an expert at.

Zanka is by no means a people person. That was Jabber’s whole thing. He’s just hoping he’s not freaking out Kiera in any way.

“I have just the thing for you, Mr. Nijiku,” she pipes up, already bouncing over to her weird bouquet-making station.

Zanka sighs in relief, glad that she made this encounter way less painful than it could’ve become.

Zanka leaves the shop with a brand new bouquet of cypress, sunflowers, daisies, forget-me-nots, and tulips.

He’s walking with a deeper feeling of dread now. He was allowing himself to believe that he was just going shopping for Jabber on a regular day. But today isn’t a regular day. No days are regular anymore and it’s hard for him to come to terms with that reality.

Sure, it’s been two years and he should get the hell over it already. But he’d love to see you try and get over the death of the love of your life.

The peaceful sounds of spring feel unfit for this depressing day.

The cemetery is a ten minute walk from the flower shop — he’s counted ever since his first time visiting Jabber — and it leaves a lot of time for him to think back on their relationship.

Baking together, throwing flour on each other and giggling as if time wasn’t limited for them.

He can still remember the screeches from Jabber when he first threw the flour into his locs, “You- Zanka! My haaaiirrr!” He cried out, as if it was the end of the world.

He thought it was the most hilarious thing ever. But Jabber was pretty pissed afterwards, which was evidenced by the amount of ingredients that ended up covering Zanka by the end.

And of course, Zanka was in charge of washing the flour out of his locs later that night.

The smaller, intimate moments with each other when they had downtime…

“How often do you think your chem professor thinks of you,” Zanka asked, laughing and dragging his fingers over Jabber’s chest.

“Probably like all the damn time. I tormented that man every day. He loved me though.” Jabber hummed, taking Zanka’s fingers into his own.

“Not as much as I love you though,” Zanka piped up, giving Jabber a stupid smile.

“You’re so embarrassing,” Jabber cringes, but brings up Zanka’s ring finger and places a kiss on the metal, “Yes. Never as much as you love me.”

Then, memories of Jabber’s nails clawing into the skin of his back with each movement of his hips.

The headboard hitting rhythmically against the wall with the motions of their passionate love-making.

His lips moved down to his ear, whispering to him softly, “I love you.. I love you so much.”

Jabber could only mewl pathetically in response, “I love you too.”

The best day of his life, getting bound to his best friend for life.

Both of them had tears in their eyes during the ceremony, and the kiss to seal their lifelong commitment was something straight from a dream.

“Jabber Wonger, do you take this man to be your wedded husband?” The officiant had asked,

“I do,” Jabber smiled, eyes never leaving Zanka’s.

“Zanka Nijiku, do you take this man to be your wedded husband?”

“I do,” Zanka replied with a smile.

“You ma-” The officiant didn’t even get to finish before Jabber threw himself onto Zanka, locking him in a messy kiss with his fingers gripping onto his hair.

Cheers rang around them, but their focus was only on each other.

A glorious day, indeed.

Zanka is ripped out of dreamland as he enters the cemetery’s grounds. Jabber’s final resting place isn’t too far away from the main gates.

To be surrounded by nothing but death, it’s painful. One day he’ll be part of this count… forever trapped under the Earth for no one to see him again.

It’s morbid and it makes him think about all the things left unsaid between him and Jabber.

The suddenness of his death wasn’t fair, and it’s so messed up that the world had picked Jabber of all people.

Whatever… Thinking in the past isn’t going to bring him back anyway.

Zanka comes up to the familiar headstone and slowly sits himself down, making sure to not disturb the ground that is currently providing a nice cover over the love of his life.

“Hey, honey…” He sighs, dusting off the leaves that have fallen on top of the stone. Jabber looks so pretty today with all the luscious greenery covering his area.

This is the first time he’s seen it completely covered in grass, and that realization makes his chest hurt and tears stir in his eyes. God, it’s been too long without Jabber.

His fingers glide over the grass blades and he likes to imagine that it’s Jabber’s hair. But it just doesn’t feel the same.

“It’s our anniversary today, but you knew that already. Why else would I be here so soon after…”

Zanka gets choked up, covering his mouth with his fist, “So soon after the anniversary of your death, you know?”

His eyes look up, finally gaining the courage to face the damn stone tablet that confirms to him that Jabber is gone.

Inscribed on the tablet, it reads:

It’s so fucked to remember that not even two weeks before their wedding anniversary, Jabber was just gone like that.

Ah, gosh. He hates thinking too hard about it. It never fails to make him start sobbing. That’s exactly why he tries to avoid this damn place as much as he can.

His cheeks are wet as he places the bouquet in the little holder that’s beside his headstone, replacing the last bouquet he put in there.

He has to look away, wiping aggressively at the abundance of tears that are flowing from his eyes.

“I… miss you so much. You don’t… understand-” He groans, trying his hardest to collect himself but the tears are running and he can’t keep up.

“You don’t understand… how each morning, I wake up and-” He whimpers, “I wake up and you’re not there.”

It’s surely rude to disrupt the dead around him with his annoying grievance, but he doesn’t really care at the moment.

He’s mad. Mad at the world, mad at himself, mad at Jabber, mad at the son of a bitch that took his husband from him… he’s just… mad.

He knows it’s wrong to be upset at Jabber because no one could’ve anticipated what was going to happen that day. But it doesn’t hurt any less, knowing that if Jabber had just stayed at home like Zanka wanted him too, he maybe-

Zanka drops his head down, his forehead hitting the grass as he lays down on the grave.

This is pathetic.

He has had plenty of time to grieve, so why is he still here wallowing in his sorrow?

Nonetheless, being in this cemetery brings back some pretty bad memories that he wishes he could stuff down and repress for the rest of his life.

Zanka always hated that damn motorcycle. Ever since Jabber brought it home and tugged him out of the house to show him.

“Look, look. I gotta show you something, baby.” He beams, jumping up and down before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the front door.

“I really hope it’s nothing stupid. This wasn’t just an impulsive purchase, right?”

“No, no. It’s something I’ve been wanting for a while. You’ll get it when you see it. I promise.” He giggles.

They pass the threshold of the front door and Jabber’s hands move up to cover his eyes, walking Zanka the rest of the way to the driveway.

“Okay… 3… 2… 1…” he counts down before moving his hands away to reveal a sleek, purple sports bike.

There’s not a lot of things that Zanka are strict about in their relationship. But one of the biggest “Absolutely not” for him were motorcycles. His skin crawls just looking at them. They’re accidents waiting to happen. The statistics tell the story alone.

Zanka doesn’t mean to, but the first thing to leave his mouth is, “No. Absolutely not. Take it back to the dealership. I don’t want it here.”

Jabber’s face scrunches up, but he doesn’t fall back from the rejection, “Okay, okay. I know you said ‘no’ to any and all motorcycles or whatever. But just listen, babe.”

He pleads, hopping over to the bike to start smoothing his fingers over the sleek metal, “It’s a beauty. A GSX-R750 model…. Just gorgeous. Look at her, Zanka.” He has a bright smile on his face and he looks so proud to have bought something of his dreams.

Zanka has his arms crossed tightly against his chest, shaking his head in disapproval, “I don’t care. I told you those things are fucking murder machines. Have you looked at the statistics? I don’t want to find you dead on the side of the road somewhere.”

Jabber groans and moves away from the bike to head back over to Zanka, pulling his arms away from his chest to hold his hands, “You’re thinking too pessimistically. I am a safe rider, I really am. I have practiced over and over again for this. I know how to handle myself.”

He brings Zanka’s hands up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to his skin, “You don’t have to worry about that ever happening to me. If anything, the streets should be scared of me.”

Zanka furrows his eyebrows, but it does get a bit of a chuckle from him, “Scared of you?”

“Hell yeah. Scared of me.” Jabber repeats, his eyes scrunching up as he smiles.

“You’re an idiot…”

“So… what’s the verdict?” Jabber asks, looking into Zanka’s eyes with those sickeningly sweet puppy dog eyes.

“I… I don’t know, hon.” Zanka murmurs, still hesitant.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to be a hundred percent on board. I just need anything more than zero. I’ll take the bike back right now if you are completely put-off by the idea.” He says.

“No… I can’t ask you to do that. I know how much you’ve wanted this. I-” He stammers, “I- just- Please… promise you’ll be so careful.” Zanka begs. The last thing he wants is to be a widow in his 20s.

“I promise. You don't have to worry, love.” Jabber finishes with a peck to his lips.

Zanka lets out a relieved sigh. As long as Jabber promises to be safe, he can be put at ease.

Zanka looks back on this conversation a lot nowadays and wishes he had put his foot down instead.

”It just finished raining outside, Jabber! You’re not going!” Zanka demands, tugging at Jabber’s arm to slow him down.

He’s dressed head to toe in his biker’s gear and heading to the front door. Zanka is freaking out. It could be his anxiety getting the best of him, but something about Jabber going outside right now really makes Zanka feel nauseous.

“Zanka, stop! Jesus… You’re genuinely doing too much right now,” He snarls, pushing Zanka back.

Zanka is on the brink of tears, panicking like crazy, “You promised me! You promised you wouldn’t go on that thing if I had a problem with it.”

Jabber is brushing him off and grabbing his keys, not listening to a word Zanka is saying, “That’s not what I promised. I promised that I wouldn’t have kept it at the beginning if you had a problem with it. That trial period is over, the bike is here to stay.”

“Jabber, stop. Please. Just stay… just for tonight. You can go in the morning and I wouldn’t be mad. Please…” He’s begging like mad right now and he’s sure he looks crazy, but he just has a really bad feeling about this.

Jabber stops and turns to look fully at Zanka, “I can’t be here right now. You’re freaking out over nothing and I just… need some fresh air.”

“Look, how about this,” Jabber begins, walking over to Zanka to pull him into an embrace, “I’ll spend at max... 1 hour outside. I’ll come back so quick you won’t even notice I was gone.”

Zanka grips onto Jabber’s leather jacket tightly, breathing heavily into his collar, “No… I don’t want you to leave.”

Jabber smacks his teeth and pulls away from the hug, looking properly pissed off now, “I’m not doing this shit tonight. I’m going.”

He turns back in the direction of the door and swings it open. It’s nearly pitch-black outside and the scent of rain is still so strong in the air with how recently it just poured down.

He may not be able to change Jabber’s mind, but he just… needs to tell him something before he leaves.

Zanka sprints forward before the door can close behind his husband and slams his way into a hug, “Fine… fine. Go ahead. But please, Jabber… Please be safe.”

The taller man turns around and locks eyes with Zanka, hugging him back and placing a stiff kiss to his lips. “I promise I’ll be careful… I just need a breather. I’ll be back soon.”

Zanka nods, kissing him back and holding him in his arms for a few seconds before pulling back and letting Jabber walk off down the driveway.

“I love you! Be safe…” Zanka calls out, biting anxiously at his nails. He really wants to try harder to stop him, but lord knows, that would probably end in divorce or something. He doesn’t want to do irreparable damage to their relationship by being too overprotective.

“I love you too, Zanka. I’ll be fine.” Jabber says back before putting on his motorcycle helmet and getting on the bike. He shuffles around for a moment before putting up the kickstand.

The engine roars to life and Jabber does a small finger salute before pulling out of the driveway and onto the street, speeding off down to wherever he’s going.

But that feeling of anxiety and impending doom is still gnawing at his mind and he can’t shake it off.

They agreed to an hour… one hour of riding outside. It has been three hours now.

Zanka is sitting on one of their barstools, his leg bouncing rapidly and his phone is open beside him to the text messages between him and Jabber.

My Love💍💕

[22:18]: I’m sorry for making a big deal about things earlier, I should trust you.

My Love💍💕 [22:25]: We’ll talk more when I get back.

My Love💍💕 [22:26]: Or in the morning. It’s late, I don’t want you staying awake for me.

My Love💍💕 [22:27]: Just try and get some rest.

[22:28]: Okay, I’ll try.

[23:50]: I know you told me to get some sleep, but are you on your way back? It’s been an hour.

[23:51]: Okay, nevermind, ignore that message.

[23:51]: I forgot already. I have to trust you.

[23:55]: I love you, stay safe.

[00:35]: I do trust you. I promise, just respond and let me know you’re okay.

[00:38]: I have a feeling you’re mad at me. But please, for the sake of your dear old husband’s nerves… reply or something!!!

[00:39 - 00:45]: 6 missed calls

[00:45]: Jabber answer.

[00:46]: This isn’t funny.

[00:50]: Let me know that you’re okay and I’ll get off of your back.

[00:53 - 01:00]: 15 missed calls

[01:05]: I’m scared. Honey, what’s going on?

[01:06]: Answer my calls.

[01:09 - 01:36]: 50 missed calls

[01:37]: I swear on everything that is holy, I will divorce you if you don’t answer my FUCKING call, Jabber.

[01:43]: I’m really scared. Baby, please tell me you’re okay.

[01:50]: Come home.

He’s about to text or call again when there’s a knock on the door.

Weird, Jabber has a key. He shouldn’t have to knock.

Zanka gets up from the barstool and walks over to the front door cautiously, he’s only in his pajama pants so he really hopes it’s no one that wants to kill him or something.

He looks out the glass, taking in the sight of two police officers standing outside of the door.

Oh fuck. Zanka thinks before opening the door with a polite-ish smile, “Hey… What’s going on?”

“Hey, we’re coming from the xxxxx police department. Are you Zanka Nijiku?”

His smile wavers a bit, but he nods anyway, “Yeah. I am.”

The officers share a look before the second officer lets out a deep breath and motions to the inside of the house, “We’d like to come in. You should probably sit for this.”

Zanka nods and moves out of the way to let them in, shuffling awkwardly to the living room couch.

Both officers stay standing and sit in silence for a bit before the second officer starts to talk, “We’re here about a Jabber Nijiku, your husband, yes?”

Oh double fuck. He really hopes this isn’t what he thinks it is. “What’s wrong with Jabber?” He asks, panic already leaking into his tone.

“We’re sorry to say, sir. But your husband was in an accident.”

“And… unfortunately, the injuries were too grave and he was pronounced dead on the scene.”

Zanka is sure that you could hear an ant’s footsteps with how silent the room becomes. He’s frozen in time and it feels like his head is underwater. None of the words they’re saying are making any sense to him.

Dangerous speeds…

Hydroplaned…

Not enough time to brake…

need to call…

We offer our condolences…

He’s still completely silent as they speak and he’s staring at a single wood panel on the floor.

“Is there anyone we can call? We, as law enforcement, don’t want to leave you here alone.” The first officer says.

But there’s no one he wants here. If their name isn’t Jabber, he doesn’t want to see them.

“I’ll call my dad…” Zanka says instead, still staring into nothingness.

Zanka has only heard stories about grief, but being in that position is another thing completely.

After the initial shock of hearing the news and the officers left their his home, Zanka became an absolute wreck and started sobbing uncontrollably.

It’s like there is a gaping piece of his heart missing that can’t be put back. The loss is still fresh, but the permanent aspect of losing Jabber is definitely felt.

He can’t breathe and what do they mean by Jabber is dead. He was right here just a few hours ago…

He knew it. He just knew… there was something that wasn’t right. He should’ve tried harder to keep him here…

Enjin arrives only a few minutes after the police leave, only to find Zanka bawling on the floor and he hurries over, not even stopping to take his shoes off.

“Alright… Come here, Zanka.” He shushes, pulling him into a hug.

Zanka buries his face into Enjin’s shoulder and he’s trying to take in breaths but he can’t. He needs Jabber… He needs him.

Enjin’s fingers stroke through his hair, petting him and trying to calm him down as best as he can.

Enjin’s presence is providing a blanket of comfort in this time of grief, it’s as close as he can get to Jabber’s own hugs.

Enjin keeps holding him, rocking him back and forth with his fingers still combing through his hair, “What happened?”

Ah… right. Zanka hadn’t really had the time to explain the situation.

“They… said-” Zanka chokes, burying his face even deeper into his neck, “Jabber is dead.”

Zanka can feel Enjin tense up in his arms and this hug is no longer comforting.

He jumps up from his spot and starts pacing the room, tugging at his hair as he speaks, “They said he's… gone, Enjin.”

“But I just-” He blubbers, “I just saw him!”

He babbles out through his tears, “Something… about a-”

“A crash? He… swerved to dodge a… car that cut him off…” Zanka is gasping and snot is spilling out of his nose. He’s sure he looks gross right now, “and… he lost control-”

He can’t even bring himself to finish relaying the information before he’s dropping down to the ground again. “Oh my God. Enjin, my fucking husband is dead!” He wails, crying even louder now.

Enjin is frozen in place. Zanka is sure this news is just as painful for Enjin to hear. The elder originally had mixed feelings about their relationship, but he grew very fond of Jabber over the years, to the point that they had a father-son type of connection.

There’s tears coming down Enjin’s eyes as well now, but he chooses to focus on comforting Zanka.

Enjin shuffles over to Zanka and pulls him into a tighter hug. He can’t do anything but let Zanka cry it out.

The sounds coming out of him right now are nothing short of horrific. The earth-shattering cries of a newly widowed Zanka could surely be heard throughout the entire neighborhood.

The funeral was absolutely one of the worst human experiences he has ever had to deal with up to present day. No one prepares you for having to say goodbye to the love of your life. Especially in such a sudden way.

They were supposed to grow old together. And today he’s putting his husband into the ground instead.

There’s a big turn-out today. Shows just how much Jabber was loved by so many people.

Jabber’s family is on one side and Zanka’s is on the other. Everyone that was at their wedding is here today (with the addition of an extra few), and it just makes him feel like everyone’s eyes are on him.

Enjin is on one side of him and on the other side is Riyo as they walk him down the aisle to view Jabber’s body. They knew not to send Zanka up by himself, lest the service be disrupted by him collapsing and breaking into sobs.

And to make matters worse, it’s their wedding anniversary today as well. Zanka had chosen this date pretty impulsively and thought it would be nice to kinda ‘get married again’, but now that he’s up here in front of his husband’s lifeless body, he’s regretting it badly.

Zanka’s dressed in the same tuxedo he wore that day and Jabber is wearing his own. He looks just as nice as he did the day Zanka said, ‘I do’. But he’s not wearing that same beaming smile and it feels off.

He has a grey-ish tint to him and Zanka feels like throwing up. But that would be unacceptable to do…

Instead, he lets go of both Enjin and Riyo. And they let him move without much hesitation, watching as Zanka steps forward and holds onto the casket.

Jabber is still adorned in all of his jewelry and his locs are resting over his shoulders.

He looks so peaceful, but Zanka doesn’t feel comforted in that reality. There could never be this much peace in Jabber’s life without Zanka there.

Ah, but that’s the funny part. He’s not really living anymore, is he?

Tears are coming down his face as he leans down and presses a kiss to Jabber’s cold forehead, “I guess this really is til death do us part, huh?”

Zanka whispers to Jabber, trying to joke and make light of this depressing situation, but it only works to make him feel worse.

He wants to point a huge fuck you at the universe for making him a widow at 27.

He’s not going to cry… He needs to finish this before he can leave. He reaches into his tux’s pocket and pulls out Jabber’s ring — they had recovered it at the crash site — before sliding it onto his left ring finger.

“I love you, Jabber,” He warbles out, feeling the waterworks coming. And he needs to get out of here.

His legs are starting to let out underneath him and he’s getting tears all over Jabber’s precious tux. Oh God, he’s a mess.

Enjin and Riyo hurry up to grab Zanka, holding him up and pulling him away from Jabber’s casket as he wails.

He really tried his hardest to hold it together, he did.

Looking back on those days just makes Zanka sob more, laying on his side by his husband.

Jabber would’ve turned 30 this past January… It pains Zanka to no end that the love of his life won’t be by his side growing and experiencing life with him. And he’ll forever be stuck in time as the same age. All their plans to grow old and grey together have been thrown away.

All because Jabber was too stubborn to just stay in the house with Zanka.

Jeez, Zanka. That’s no way to think about someone who has passed on.

But to be honest, Zanka held a lot of animosity towards Jabber in the first couple of months after his death.

His grief counselor — yeah, he had to get one after almost killing himself in a bottle of whiskey one night and Enjin had enough of seeing Zanka like that — had told him it’s not actually anger towards Jabber.

She told him it’s just a way of finding anything to blame for what happened to Jabber. Even though it was just a bad draw of luck.

Zanka thinks it’s a load of bullshit. He still blames the dickhead that cut off Jabber originally and caused him to swerve in the first place.

”I’m a safe rider,” Jabber’s voice rings through his head.

“Yeah, clearly not safe enough…” Zanka exhales before rolling over to lay on his back.

He’s staring at the sky and he’s imagining that Jabber is right beside him, looking at the clouds with him.

“I’ve been looking for a new place recently,” He starts, “Being in that house without you there makes me feel terrible. I didn’t realize how much it was slowing down the grieving process until just a few weeks ago.”

“I guess… Being surrounded by everything that reminds me of you isn’t a good idea. Who would’ve thought, huh?” He chuckles, “Like, duh. Obviously…”

“But I guess I always was the irrational one.”

“Oh, also— and don’t get jealous, honey. I know how you get,” Zanka starts, darting his eyes over to look at the picture above Jabber’s name, “Enjin said I should start thinking about moving on.”

“Don’t worry though, I told him I wasn’t ready.”

Zanka shakes his head in disbelief, “It’s only been two years, it’s crazy how he expects that of me.”

Zanka falls silent after that and allows himself to look at the sky for a bit.

“Why didn’t you just stay…? I begged you to,” Zanka asks. It’s the same question he asks every time he comes here. Of course, he’ll never get the answer.

He sighs heavily, “I still regularly look at the videos of us on my phone, you know? Just to make sure I don’t forget what your voice sounds like.”

“I’ve already forgotten what you-” Zanka sniffles, “I’ve already forgotten what you smell like. Your scent isn’t around the house anymore… and- I-”

He’s crying again, “I feel like the worst person ever… because-” He blubbers, “What kind of partner doesn’t remember everything about their other half.”

“I’m also starting to forget how your hugs felt… your kisses… your hands… I’m just losing pieces of you every day and it’s scaring me. I don’t want to lose you completely.”

“So, I just want to be able to remember some aspects of you. The videos ensure that. They make it so that I don’t… forget everything about you.”

Zanka is subconsciously pulling at the blades of grass, and he should stop, but it’s sort of soothing.

“I didn’t tell you this the last time I came, but uhh… I’m three weeks sober now. I didn’t drink on the anniversary of your death this time around,” he mumbles.

“It’s been pretty shitty, honestly. I just feel the urge… a lot. I think about just-” Zanka pauses, “Just… joining you. Because what point is there in life if you’re not here?”

“In fact, I’m kind of feeling the urge now. I could really use a drink. But, I think you’d be disappointed in me.”

Zanka goes quiet again and this time he doesn’t speak again. He’d rather just lay here and fall asleep. Kind of like cuddling Jabber… In spirit.

Zanka goes home later that night after taking a nap at the cemetery. He takes a shower and crawls into bed before turning on a video in his camera roll of Jabber mindlessly speaking about something random.

He does this practically every night to fall asleep. And it may not be the best coping mechanism, but it’s whatever. It works.