Chapter Text
The excitement in Jabber's body was so strong it almost felt like his bones were vibrating beneath his skin, the fight in the trash beast had been intense, more so than he originally concluded, and Zanka had surprised him marginally more than he had ever anticipated he would have. (Not that he didn't consider the other to be a formidable rival). Of course, he knew the boy wasn't quite at the point of being able to beat him just yet, but he was close, he had caught him off guard multiple times during their little altercation after all.
It was almost disappointing, almost, that the fight had to end, but as Zanka lay twitching on the floor, expression dazed and limbs involuntarily slack, Jabber couldn't bring himself to be too disheartened.
“Someone looks like he's having a lotta fun!” Jabber teased, leaning over the younger boy to get a better look at his face. He grinned wider as he crouched down by his side, tilting Zanka's head to the side with a softness quite uncharacteristic for himself as he hummed. It wasn't often Jabber saw such a peaceful and relaxed expression on the Cleaner's face, and with his current curiosity towards the Cleaner he sure wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to get a better look up close and personal.
It was strange, he mused to himself, he usually didn't feel quite this interested in those he fought, more seeking the pain from a strong fighter than anything else. Of course, there was always interest in just how strong his opponent was, how far they could push him into unleashing his true self, but something felt different with this one, something that Jabber simultaneously wanted to welcome but also wanted to shove away. It was almost… soft? Caring? Like he found someone who might actually understand him, something that could potentially become more than just a good fight. No, surely not. He was just interesting is all, nothing more.
Jabber hummed as he relaxed a bit more, Mankira transforming back into the rings that hugged his fingers just right. He was thankful to Zanka, really. It wasn't often that anyone could bring out the real him, the real Mankira, at that. Having the opportunity to actually let loose for once and being able to see his vital instrument out in all of her glory wasn't something he often got to experience, not something that he could experience even; he wasn't going to grace just any old weakling with Mankira's true form after all. His ribs throbbed in protest at the position he was watching the other boy in, and he let out a small hiss as he lowered himself further to the floor, feeling his heartbeat rush along the wounds he endured during their fight. As he leaned back to sit down his side twinged with even more pain, and Jabber wondered offhandedly if he could feel his broken ribs scraping together.
The Raider pouted as he sat cross-legged on the floor next to Zanka's head, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion as he pondered what to do next. The boss had told him what to do with his opponent after winning, and he didn't want to let Zodyl down, really he didn't, but at the same time, his stomach churned uncomfortably at the thought of practically throwing away his opponent, his rival. What a waste it would be, and when would he ever find a rival like this again? Surely it was possible, but it had taken so long to even find this one!
He found himself absentmindedly running his hands through the Cleaner's hair, feeling Zanka's body twitch at the foreign feeling, though it was obvious he was barely registering the touch to begin with. A small giggle welled up in Zanka's throat as his body reacted to the touch, oblivious to who it belonged to or the predicament he was in. Something in Jabber's chest fluttered at the sound of his laugh, and he found himself smirking just a bit as he continued to stare.
Zanka's eyes were vacant, the usual bright blue looking rather dull, closer to a navy than the colour he was used to seeing on the other, was that normal or was that just how his eyes looked with his Instrument activated? Blood was crusted on his chin and the corners of his mouth and his forehead was sticky with sweat and grime, loose hairs clinging to the clammy skin. It was beautiful, in its own way, proof of their battle, proof of both their strength.
Jabber could feel the sheer force of each and every blow Zanka had landed on him during the fight, he knew he had it in him, to be the person he craved, to be the person who could finally give him what he wants, he just needed more time to bring it out.
As he pondered his situation, he noted the way Zanka had started murmuring, very clearly hallucinating. Jabber strained to listen but only managed to pick up snippets of his seemingly one sided conversation, something about proving himself or whatever? It was a little bit funny. Even through the haze of the hallucinogenics, and through his garbled sentences, Jabber was able to discern the conviction in Zanka's voice.
A laugh ripped itself from Jabbers throat, this was perfect! This guy was just perfect! He couldn't just give him up. Surely the boss wouldn't mind? He did what was asked of him didn't he? Surely he deserved a reward for that, surely Zodyl would be able to see how badly he needed this, and the effort he would be willing to go through to get it. As his laugh got louder he became steadily more aware of the pain ripping through his side, which only fueled his delight and determination.
“Look what you've done to me Zanka” he practically purred, leaning over the other's face.
“It hurts so much to laugh, but I bet you knew that would happen, didn't ya?”
Blood trickled down his chin as he ground his teeth into his lip, his breath becoming more laboured as the adrenaline left his system. He dug his knuckles into his ribs as he began to snicker again, his other hand reaching from Zanka's hair to his clammy skin.
“I can't let you go now can I? Not after you've treated me so well.” His fingers traced over Zanka's jawline, memorising the curves of his face as he continued to laugh.
A second laugh joined him as he continued, and Jabber grinned even wider at the unhinged look gracing the Cleaner's features.
“Oh you're really feelin it now, huh?” He crooned, his excitement radiating from him like the heat of a fire.
“I bet you're seeing some crazy shit right now, just wish I could see it too man”.
Zanka's chest pounded as Jabber leant down, practically draping himself over him in order to listen to his heartbeat, the grin on his lips continuing to grow as he noticed the harsh thump beneath his bones that felt as if it wanted to break free from Zanka's ribcage at any given moment.
“Oh your heart's beating so fast man” Jabber giggled as he pulled the other closer to him, ending up with their limbs intertwined in a strange pretzel like fashion, and as uncomfortable as it was, Jabber couldn't bring himself to care. He just wanted the Cleaner close, feeling strangely drawn to him, it's not like Zanka would remember this moment anyways.
Jabber wasn't sure how long he sat there, enjoying Zanka's trip almost as much as Zanka himself seemed to be. He leaned back on his hands and admired his work, before standing up slowly to look down at him once more, as if simply looking away from him was a struggle. With a motion too swift for someone with broken ribs, he bent down and pulled Zanka up, throwing him ungracefully over his shoulder, something letting out a sick crunch in Jabber's chest as he did so.
He started humming to himself as he began to make his way towards the direction he assumed the boss was in, patting Zanka on the back as he did so. “You're coming home with me, hm? Can't have you leaving me quite yet, y'know?”
Jabber didn't register the sound of footsteps coming from behind him until after the searing pain of a bullet tore through the flesh of his leg, the sudden burn underneath his skin throwing him off balance and causing him to drop his precious cargo. Before he could even think more gunshots rang out, tearing into him as he fell to the floor, the pain overriding his senses.
He watched as the red headed Cleaner girl helped Zanka up, the fury lashing through him only quelled by his own body’s betrayal as he lay unable to move on the ground. Jabber's vision swam uncomfortably as his blood pooled beneath him, barely able to watch as she pulled Zanka further and further away from him.
The last thought on the Raider's mind before unconsciousness claimed him was that this wasn't over. That girl would pay.
He would get his Zanka back, and he'd make damn sure to keep him well away from those Cleaners in the future. He could do better than them, and he was going to make sure they all knew it, and that Zanka would realise it too.