Chapter Text
Zanka hadn't been able to sleep for months after his fight in the trash beast with Jabber. He'd spent countless nights staring up at the ceiling, feeling a twitch in his fingers.
Enjin and the others always thought of it as stress, that he was shaken up from almost losing his life and being paralyzed for so long. That he was "still processing the trauma."
But Zanka doesn't think trauma is the right word for it. What crawled beneath his skin was something else entirely. He couldn't really explain what he was feeling.
What Lovely Assistaff was feeling. He didn't want to address it. He didn't even want to think about it.
So during those nights where he was stuck awake, he'd meditate. Zanka would sit himself criss-cross on his bed with Lovely Assistaff balanced across his thighs. Shut his eyes and ran his fingers across the wood of her spine. It was meant to be a relief.
Except those quiet moments are when he felt those raw feelings become clear as day. Like a hunger that vibrated through Lovely Asisstaff into his very core.
So he tried to handle those feelings of hunger by taking more assignments. Day after day, he'd corner Semiu at her desk, the hallways, even the lounge, practically begging for more assignments. "Anything," he'd say with a tight voice.
Fighting trash beasts had worked well at first.
Zanka could feel that familiar rush that Lovely Assistaff was craving. Feel the way she hummed against his palms as he sliced her blades through the core of the trash beasts.
The only issue was that it felt like scratching an itch through three layers of clothing. The relief was there, but it was hollow and still left him with a deep sense of- ... something. Like he was dehydrated and chugged salty water.
After defeating every trash beast, Zanka would stare down at Lovely Assistaff. He'd feel her vibrations thrum under his fingers. He'd feel her craving.
For something he couldn't quite give her.
Not anymore, at least.
That's what Zanka had to remind Lovely Assistaff every time they defeated a trash beast. He'd stare at her blue form in his hands, whisper, "That was different. We can't go back to that." He'd breathe slowly, reminding her that their fight with Jabber, that thrill of their fight, wasn't something he could provide.
Sometimes that would work, and her thrumming would quiet.
Until that freak showed up on a random day, just as Zanka finished an assignment.
Jabber came bouncing. All too excited and begging for a fight. Zanka could feel the way Lovely Assistaff quivered at those words. Which was stupid! Last time he fought Jabber, he almost died!
But he didn't...
So when Jabber leaned in close enough that Zanka could smell the tangy smell of herbs and excitedly stated, "You had fun too, didn't you?!"
Zanka hesitated. What fucking idiot would tango with the devil after almost dying just months ago?!
Him aparently, cause Jabber's words were like a siren. And he could feel Assistaff's blades sharpening with anticipation, in a hunger to pierce skin.
"Come on...! Let's run it back, one more time!"
One more time probably won't hurt. That's what Zanka told himself. It's just a way to satiate the restlessness he'd been feeling these past months.
So he agreed to fight Jabber. In some secluded area on the edge of No Man's Land. Made Jabber swear this was just a spar. No silly shit, no trying to feed him to a trash beast after.
He told himself through bloodied and split lips that it would only be once. He'd let himself feel the same anguish as before as he lay paralyzed after the right, wanting it to set deep into his core so he wouldn't do this stupid ass shit again.
Swore with bruised knuckles and a nauseated stomach that he'd never do it again after he fought Jabber when they came across each other a second time.
Zanka can't really know how it became a routine. (He knows how.)
But he kept running into Jabber and kept letting himself be whisked away in a fight.
Zanka wanted to get ahold of himself. But it was something that he relished in the rush that coursed through him, something in the way it felt when Lovely Assistaff finally managed to graze skin. Zanka told himself it was just the fight. He refused to address the thrill that coursed through Lovely Assistaff every time she got another taste of what was hiding underneath skin.
Honestly, what could go wrong, though? Jabber likes pain, so it can't be wrong, right? It's not like he's hurting anyone, so it's like two birds, one stone! Three if he counts fighting Jabber as training to get stronger.
That's what he tells himself as he sneaks away from Cleaner's HQ for the second time this week to meet at the edge of No Man's Land. Away from prying eyes and civilization.
Zanka wasn't surprised to see another figure already there.
Jabber is sitting on the edge of broken concrete. His pink eyes found Zanka easily, tracking his movements the moment he stepped into the space. "Zaaaanka!" Jabber sang, his eyes were brightening with unfiltered interest. A grin spread across his face. "Took you long enough!" Jabber says as he stands up. He raised his arms above his head to stretch all the way to the sky.
Zanka didn't offer much of a response. He only dropped his bag, face smeared with that permanent scowl Jabber got to know so well over these past months.
Zanka rolled his shoulders, his hand reaching for Lovely Assistaff, his eyes beginning to brighten with an unmistakable blue.
The first hit to Jabber was quicker than he expected.
It knocked the breath clean out of him, sent his body slamming into the side of an abandoned building. Jabber laughed even as the impact rattled his ribs, a sharp, delighted sound tearing from his throat.
There was never a warm-up when it came to fighting Zanka. No hesitation, no restraint. Zanka always fights like he has something to prove, and Jabber is here for it.
It sent a thrill through Jabber's chest. "There he is!" Jabber laughs as he scrambles to his feet. "Mr. Sadist came out to play!"
The tip of Assistaff's blades caught Jabber across his shoulder. It wasn't too deep, but it was just enough to split fabric and skin. Enough for red to sink into the fabric on Jabber's shoulder.
Zanka's pulse raced at the image. A part of him felt wrong when Lovely Assistaff was met with red, but she vibrated in his grip, like she was demanding more.
Red stuck on the blades of Assistaff instantly, and Zanka could feel the way she thrummed with excitement.
Jabber and Zanka pushed each other until the world felt like it was narrowed to the impacts and their breaths. They fight, and they fight. Neither of them even begins to slow until their bodies force them to.
"Damn, Zanka!" Jabber giggles when Lovely Assistaff slammed him across the space, against a nearby building. He let out a cough, spit the blood out that was forming in his mouth. "Tryna knock the sense outta me?"
"Ain't no sense to knock out," Zanka shot back. His eyes narrowed onto the red that spilled over Jabber's lips and chin. He watched as Jabber pushed himself from the dent formed in the building to land on his feet, swiping the blood with the back of his hand.
Jabber smiled warmly at the red. "Ohhh, Zanka, Zanka, Zanka.."
Zanka barely had a moment to breathe before he saw Jabber rush at him, Mankira's claws stretched out. Zanka shifted his feet on the floor, pivoted so he was able to catch Jabber in Assistaff's curve.
Zanka felt Lovely Assistaff thrum in excitement when Jabber landed on the spikes, felt the thrill reach into his very core when he saw red beginning to drip down blades, down her spine, and downwards his fingers.
"Didn't know you were into painting, Zanka!" Jabber teased. He raised Mankira, flexed her claws before he swiped down at Zanka. "Wanna paint the rest of our battlefield while you're at it?"
Zanka jerked back just in time, Mankira's claws slicing through the air where his shoulder had been just seconds ago. Debris crunched beneath his boots as he slid away, spinning Assistaff in his hands before he drove the handle towards Jabber's open diaphragm.
"Hold still!" Zanka snapped when Jabber twisted his body to the side, letting Assitaff's blades skim past his ribs. The edge of her blades still caught Jabber. Tore his clothes and let red surface across his right side. Jabber put a hand on his stomach and looked at it. He sucked in a breath and grinned wider when he saw his hand soaked in blood.
"Yeah... That's the spot," Jabber muttered in an approving tone before looking back at Zanka with a sultry gaze. "Got me good, ZanZan. What else you got?"
Zanka shoved himself back, forcing distance between the two when he saw Jabber leap. He used Lovely Assistaff to keep Mankira just far enough where her blades couldn't touch Zanka. "You talk too much!" Zanka hissed when he found his footing again.
"Someone's gotta," Jabber drawled. He stopped for a moment to hop in place, letting Mankira's long claws bounce with him. "You'll just stare like some pissed-off mutt!"
This time, Zanka lunged first. Assistaff flashed blue as he closed the distance and leaped. He lifted Assistaff high and struck down harshly on Jabber. Mankira's claws met Lovely Assistaff in a loud clash, and the impact rattled up his arms.
Zanka didn't let up. He leaned into it, putting more pressure on Mankira, forcing Jabber on the defensive.
Jabber only laughed under the pressure. "You're all worked up, Zanka!" He shifted his weight to slice at Zanka. "Come on! Show me what you've g-"
Jabber barely dropped down to his feet in time when Zanka suddenly pivoted to swing Assistaff like a bat. "Keep talking, and I'll cut that tongue of yours out!" Zanka hissed, twirling Assistaff to slam her forks on top of Jabber.
Jabber was fast to slip away before Assistaff caught him against the ground. He popped himself into a squat, swept a foot out to trip Zanka.
Zanka was barely able to jump over Jabber's leg, but the sharp slide across his right abdomen wasn't something Zanka could ignore. Not when he felt Lovely Assistaff slipping from his grip.
When Zanka collapsed face-first into the ground, he heard Jabber's deranged laughter.
Jabber bounced over, used his right foot to push Zanka onto his back before peering over him. He let Mankira retreat to her rings, placing his hands on either side of his waist and sticking his tongue out tauntingly to Zanka. "Thought you were gonna cut my tongue out," Jabber taunted, sly grin spreading on his face.
"Fuck you," Zanka spat with as much venom as his body would allow. It had Jabber snickering.
Being down like this always sends a rush of fear through Zanka's core. The first few times they fought, Zanka had been certain Jabber would finish him off after he collapsed.
But Jabber never does.
Instead, he settled down on Zanka's right side, folding his legs criss-cross. Jabber hummed softly. "Dunno why we don't fight like this every day," He commented, voice pleased. He tilted his head back to stare up at the dark sky, barely covered in stars.
Zanka thought about that too.
For obvious reasons, they were on enemy teams. But sometimes he wondered why they didn't fight every day, too. He knows Lovely Assistaff would be grateful for that.
The silence stretched. It felt strangely inviting.
It was the kind that began to creep into Zanka's brain, make his thoughts easier to slip from his lips. He hated that it only ever happened like this. Flat on his back. Unable to move. With Jabber, of all people, always beside him.
"You ever think," Zanka began, but he was quick to trail off and stop himself.
That didn't stop Jabber's interest, though. His pink eyes left the many littered stars, opting to settle on the blue eyes that stared back at him.
"Oh?" Jabber turned his body to Zanka, smirking. "This should be good," he snickered. "What d'ya got? Is it about my Mankira again? I told you-" Jabber's voice trailed off when Zanka interrupted his babbling.
"You think we're like this in every universe?" Zanka asked through a tensed jaw, blue eyes studying those pink ones.
Zanka didn't know what kind of reaction he was expecting. Laughing, obviously, maybe saying the question was stupid. But Jabber didn't laugh. He brought a finger to his chin, humming softly. Then, Jabber let himself fall onto his back, let his eyes find the sky as he lay splayed out.
"Probably," Jabber finally said after a moment, but then his lips pursed. "Wait, no." Jabber pushed himself on his elbows to look at Zanka again. "I think it'd be worse than that," he finished cryptically.
If Zanka wasn't stuck in this paraletic state, he'd beat his ass. "What- what the hell does that mean?!" Zanka growled, trying so hard not get angry so the pain didn't get worse.
Zanka's anger didn't seem to faze Jabber. It only made his smile widen, a snicker bubbling from his chest. "Look at your face! You look like you're gonna pop a blood vessel!" Jabber said through laughter.
"Can you fucking stay on topic!"
"Fiiine! Fiiiine," Jabber rolled his eyes. "We're probably best friends in every universe but this one."
Zanka would rather Jabber had said they were enemies in every universe.
Best friends?
The idea lodged itself somewhere painful and unwanted, scraping against everything Zanka had carefully told himself about this whole routine. About Jabber. About why he kept coming back. Zanka's throat felt tight.
"That's not funny," Zanka muttered.
"I'm not laughing," Jabber sighed, moving to rest both of his arms behind his head before he let himself relax deeper into the ground.
Zanka swallowed dryly when Jabber's eyes shut. His own eyes drifted back up to the sky, the stars blurring together in a way that made his head ache. The toxins still curled lazily through his system, loosening thoughts he would have normally crushed down without mercy.
"...You don't even know me," Zanka said. The words came out quieter than he meant them to.
"Haaah?" Jabber scowled, looking at Zanka. "Sure, I do."
Zanka met Jabber's eyes, scowl mirroring his. "You know how I fight. That's it."
Jabber stared blankly at Zanka for a beat or two. "That's only part of it," Jabber muttered, a small pout forming on his lips. "You show way more of yourself when we fight?"
Zanka clenched his jaw. "That's not knowing someone," He said through clenched teeth. "And I'm not a sadist..."
That's when Jabber turned fully on his side to face Zanka, pink eyes moving to watch his blue ones. Jabber propped his head up with one hand. His expression was lighter, but his eyes stayed sharp, watching Zanka like he always did. "You have an older sister who hates that you're a giver," Jabber stated, lifting a finger with each fact. "You hate coffee but like coffee ice cream. That you can't even look at pluggers anymore. Uh..." Jabber's eyes slid shut in thought, his counting hand coming to tap lightly at his chin.
Zanka's chest tightened at the little information Jabber stated.
How the hell..
"You look up to that cleaner with the umbrella, right?" Jabber's eyes landed back at Zanka's, whose were widened in shock. Jabber didn't seem affected by Zanka's stunned face; in fact, Jabber merely shrugged. "Sounds like someone I know."
Silence stretched again, heavier this time.
Zanka's head turned, looking away from Jabber again to stare at the sky. "You talk too much," Zanka said instead, exhaling slowly. His headache was getting worse.
"Only when you listen."
Zanka turned his head just enough to glare at Jabber, scowl evident on his face. "We're not friends. So don't prete-"
Jabber smiled, wider than before, pink eyes glinting in the dark as he cut Zanka off. "Never said we were."
For some reason, that response made Zanka's stomach churn.
Minutes passed and turned into an hour. Maybe more. The sky shifted almost imperceptibly above them, stars drifting like they had better places to be. Eventually, feeling crept back into Zanka's fingers, then his arms. He flexed his hand once, then again.
Jabber noticed, of course. His observant pink eyes looked back at Zanka. "Aww, leaving already? Thought we were having fun." His response went unanswered at first.
Zanka pushed himself up this time, joints protesting but obeying. He grabbed his bag without looking at Jabber. "Don't get used to it."
Jabber's laugh followed him as he turned away. "How can't I?" He snickered. "I know we'll have our fun again soon!"
Zanka paused for half a second, just long enough for him to lift his hand and flip him the bird.
Then he kept walking.