Archive of Our Own

Outside of Zanka's open window, rain pitter-patters down. Tiny droplets hit her as she leans up against the windowsill. A fleeting rainstorm has just passed through, leaving the remnants in its wake. Zanka breathes in the smell of petrichor combined with trash and blinks slowly, trying to relax her body and mind. This is the first time it has rained here in a long while. She should be trying to enjoy it while it lasts, even if the water is toxic.

And yet…

"Ugh! Screw this!"

That's right. She's completely restless! How is she meant to sit here and try to relax when her fingers are itching to caress Lovely Assistaff and wield her in a fight?

Zanka paces around the room, unsure of what to do with herself. She hasn't been allowed to do much other than rest for almost a whole week now. She runs her fingers through her short, uneven locks, and her frustration seeps out of her when she grunts.

Eishia healed her arm up as soon as they returned from that stupid mission. Zanka wasn't even that badly wounded, and she was cleared to go back to training and going on missions with Team Akuta… tomorrow. Her arm feels completely fine, and yet she's stuck here.

Zanka really hates sitting around doing nothing. She follows a strict daily routine to improve her skills, and getting wounded so carelessly always sets her back on her progress. How can she ever improve with a body so small and fragile?

With that thought, she knows that she needs to get Lovely and go do something with her. She just needs to figure out how to get permission to leave HQ. But what kind of excuse can she come up with?

…

Actually, Zanka can't think of a single excuse that she could give that would work. Screw it. She'll just sneak out.

Once outside, Zanka pulls the hood of Enjin's old jacket higher over her head and tries to keep Lovely Assistaff out of sight, just as she's practiced before. With a more conspicuous jinki, Zanka has worked hard to train with her and make sure she is less noticeable to the eye. It has definitely been helpful for missions involving stealth.

Before she fully exits the premises, Zanka pauses and spends all of thirty seconds trying to decide what to do. It wouldn't be worth sneaking out and potentially getting into trouble if she ends up not really doing anything in town.

As soon as she gets to thinking about how she can train outside of HQ, she realizes that the hand holding Lovely Assistaff has moved. Currently, her thumb is running along her communication bracelet. Right. Of course! She should call Jabber and see if she's up for some training. That ought to give Zanka something productive to do.

She waits for a little while, until finally, she hears Jabber groan.

"Hmm?"

"Hey, asshole, you up for a fight?"

"Shit… hnn fuck. No," Jabber replies, her voice sounding a little off.

No? That's odd. Usually, it's Jabber who calls up Zanka and begs her to come try and beat her ass. She's pleaded and whined and said all sorts of stupid things trying to get Zanka to sneak off and meet up with her. Yet now, right when Zanka is the one doing the asking, she says no?

"No? You on a mission with the Raiders or somethin'?"

"Nah, just… bleeding like hell, y'know how it is."

What?

"Who did you fight?" Zanka asks, frantic. Someone was stealthy enough to land a hit on Jabber? Strong enough to knock her down? Agile enough to strike her where it really hurts?

And Zanka still hasn't…

She grits her teeth. Who do they think they are, huh? Coming in and messing with— with—

Just what is Jabber to Zanka anyway? It's not like they're friends.

From the bracelet, Jabber lets out a breath that sounds awfully pained. Instead of the usual laughter that follows, Jabber just sounds miserable.

Something is really wrong here.

If Jabber is groaning in pain and not even making any inappropriate remarks about it, she must really be in trouble. Usually, she would revel in the feeling. Zanka isn't really sure how Jabber's brain works, but she's never heard Jabber sound so utterly wounded before. It's uncanny.

"…I ain't fought nobody."

So someone jumped her? Successfully? They didn't even give her a chance to fight back? Zanka has to stop herself from tightening her grip on Lovely Assistaff, as that wouldn't be fair to her.

Trying to calm herself down and think clearly, Zanka takes in a deep breath before slowly letting it out. Instead of worrying about who managed to defeat Jabber, she needs to think of the idiot herself. She probably needs help, doesn't she?

The Cleaners don't kill, and they sure as hell don't leave anyone for dead either. If she really is in deep shit, Zanka needs to get to Jabber and help stitch her dumbass up before she bleeds to death.

"Are you dying?" Zanka asks for confirmation.

"Yeah, basically."

Dammit!

"Where are you?"

Zanka glances around, looking about the outskirts of HQ, as though she might catch sight of Jabber somewhere nearby. It makes no logical sense, but standing still and waiting on a response might just drive her up a wall.

Jabber doesn't respond verbally. Zanka just hears some quiet groans.

"Where are you?" She asks again, her voice strained.

"Hnn, my house. Where else 'm I 'posed to go?" Jabber mumbles.

"I'm on my way," Zanka says before hanging up.

Okay. Game plan. Hurry back to HQ medbay, grab some supplies, and hurry to get to Jabber. Should she ask Eishia to come? No, no. That's too much to think about. Zanka doesn't want to take any risks even with the whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing. Zanka doesn't need anyone knowing about her involvement with the Raider.

Besides, if Jabber bleeds out before Zanka gets there, that's on her stupid ass for getting caught lacking. But if Jabber really does die, Zanka is gonna be pissed the hell off. She said herself that she wanted Zanka to be the one to beat her in a fight. And what, some rando went and tried to pull it off? No way in hell is Zanka gonna let that slide!

Zanka fumes while she searches around the medbay and gathers up a spare medkit. She'll probably also need something to help with the pain.

Holy hell. What is Zanka doing right now? Preparing to save her enemy?

Even if Jabber bleeds out, Zanka will drag her back from the grave and finish her off herself. And then she'll bring her back again, because Cleaners don't kill. Not permanently. Enjin wouldn't get too mad if she killed someone and brought her back to life after, right?

"Zanka? What are you doing?" A quiet voice comes from behind.

Zanka startles and whips around, finding Eishia standing behind her with a curious expression. She glances down at the medkit in Zanka's hand.

Zanka is also currently rifling through a cabinet with random medicines and herbs. She's supposed to still be resting right now. This isn't good. What the hell is she supposed to say?

"Um, I need this?" She says, her answer coming out like a question.

Eishia frowns slightly. "You didn't overexert yourself or get hurt again, did you? Is your arm still bothering you?"

Zanka shakes her head. "No, no, it's not like that. It's just…"

How does she get Eishia to back off? She can't just lie and say she still feels sore, because then she'll be off from missions for even longer. She also can't say that she got a minor scratch and is just going to heal it up, as Eishia will no-doubt offer to heal it up herself. Everyone knows she doesn't have much to do outside of bad accidents, so she tends to get excited to do her job whenever anyone gets even the tiniest of scratches.

Right. Zanka will just have to go with something embarrassing. Something that will make Eishia back off and let her take this stuff. It just can't be so bad that Zanka will immediately want to go jump into another deep well after the words leave her mouth. So what can she…

"Um," Zanka says, trying to sound more ashamed. "The truth is, I cut myself shaving… um, down there. You know. I was just gonna borrow this and bring it back later."

"Oh!" Eishia replies, her cheeks turning the slightest shade of red. "I see. If that's the case, then I understand. Just make sure to get it back to me when you can."

Zanka nods. "Of course. Thanks."

She hastily sneaks out of the Cleaners HQ in shame. Not only did she have to just embarrass herself, but she also had to do so in front of Eishia. Zanka has probably already done so a hundred times over, what with her getting banged up due to recklessness or weakness, but this is a bit different. Hopefully Eishia will forget about it soon.

The reality of the situation hits Zanka as soon as she starts heading off in the direction of Jabber's current house.

Shit. Why the hell did she come up with such an embarrassing lie like that just for Jabber of all people? For her own sake, Jabber better actually be on the verge of death when Zanka gets there!

Zanka breaks in through a window near the back of the house. She learned a few weeks back that it's broken and doesn't lock, and she has finally been presented with the opportunity to use it to her advantage. For some reason, Jabber hasn't fixed it. It's likely because she knows she can easily take anyone who breaks in. But what about if someone breaks in when Jabber isn't home? Zanka will have to mention it to her.

As she closes the window shut behind her, Zanka wonders if someone actually did just use this very window to break in. Is that how Jabber got jumped in her own home? Maybe she was asleep and didn't hear someone come in. Idiot.

Zanka glances around, but there doesn't seem to be any sign of anyone having broken in or stolen anything. Reminding herself that Jabber is actively bleeding out and in pain, and that this is a bad thing for once, she heads on down to Jabber's bedroom. Finally, Zanka spots the sight of Jabber's crumpled form on the floor. She appears to be curled up in a ball halfway between the bed and the bedroom door.

"Jabber," Zanka says with a slight gasp. She sets Lovely Assistaff up against the wall by the doorway before hurrying over.

Jabber hums and slowly blinks her eyes open. When they land on Zanka's legs, she glances up a bit. "Hm? Zanka, what're you doin' here? I ain't seen you in a minute," she mumbles, sleepiness invading her tone.

Jabber, to be quite frank, looks like complete shit. Her dark tank top is riding up her waist, and her loose pajama pants are twisted from her position on the floor. Visible beads of sweat cling to her skin. Her bonnet is even slipping off of the top of her head.

Zanka frowns, never having seen Jabber in such a state before. "I told you I'd come. I brought ya some stuff."

"Ooh, goodies? Nice."

Zanka sets down the medkit and box of anti-inflammatory tea on the floor next to her. She would have liked to set it on the table, but with Jabber stuck on the floor, she'll just have to deal with this until she patches her up.

Jabber glances over at the medkit and her eyebrows rise, but her voice doesn't drastically change like it does when she is truly interested in something. "Ooh, you gonna play sexy nurse and make me feel better?"

"Shut up," Zanka scolds. "Where are you bleedin'?"

Jabber blinks up at her a few times.

"Hello? Earth to Jabber?"

"Say what now? Did I hear that right?" Jabber mumbles.

"Just show me where yer bleedin'," Zanka bites out.

Jabber huffs. She looks over at the medkit again, and then back up at Zanka, and then the medkit again.

A beat passes.

Realization crosses her face, and Jabber's eyes blow wide before she giggles. They start off slowly at first, and then they turn into full-on cackles. She swats a hand on the wooden floor as though Zanka said the funniest shit ever. "You uh, you gon' kiss it better too?"

"Like hell I am! I only came because you said you were bleedin' out. What, did ya patch yerself up already? Could've told me that and saved me the hassle."

Jabber cracks up again.

Zanka feels like she's missing something. The hell is so funny about this? Honestly, she had expected that Jabber would just scoff and allow Zanka to help her out. Or maybe she thought that Jabber would even be the tiniest bit grateful, and that she would cover it up with stupid jokes meant to piss Zanka off.

This isn't really the reaction she had been mentally prepared for. Then again, when it comes to Jabber, Zanka supposes that she always ends up being met with unexpected actions and reactions. She always keeps her on her toes. And while that's good for when they're training, Zanka is a bit out of her depth here. She doesn't have a ton of experience with healing, especially not on a living person, and definitely never on her enemy. She also isn't used to getting made fun of for attempting it.

"I'm… I'm on my… bahahaha!" Jabber goes back to laughing, her face the picture of mirth.

On the other hand, Zanka wonders if it could be a good thing that Jabber has become a bit more expressive. Jabber's eyes crinkle in the corners, cheeks pulled taut from laughing, and her whole body moves with her—like she can't just sit still and laugh. She always has to be a bit extra. Maybe she isn't quite as injured as Zanka previously thought.

After a moment, Jabber finally calms down, wiping a tear from her eyes. "Ooh, girl, you got me real good. How do you always manage to make me laugh so hard when it hurts so much?"

"Wh—"

Jabber's face suddenly falls. Soon after, it crumbles, and she buries her face into her arm. "Hnn, ow, fuck."

"Dumbass. That's what you get. Just show me where you're hurtin'."

"You're deadass," she says, somewhat incredulously.

"…Yes?"

Jabber lets out a sigh before she sucks her teeth in disappointment. "I thought you were smarter than this, Zan-Zan."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Means 'm on my period, and you thought I got stabbed or some shit."

Zanka goes still.

What.

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and lets it out.

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me!?"

Jabber bursts out laughing again, but she doesn't pull her head up off of her arm. "Hey, you— you still wanna see where I'm bleedin'?" After the words leave her mouth, she goes back to howling like a damn hyena.

Zanka's face warms up even more, and she has to stop herself from reaching out to strangle this moron. Or, for once, Zanka herself is probably the moron in this situation. That makes this whole thing worse.

She can't believe she forgot that periods were a thing. How could that not have crossed her mind? Sure, Jabber said that she was dying, but she has always been a bit dramatic about certain things. Looking back now, especially knowing how out-of-it Jabber currently is, of course she wasn't being serious when Zanka hit her up.

But even still, Jabber is into all kinds of pain, and period cramps aren't even close to the level of shit she's experienced. How can cramps have her acting like this? Are hers really this bad?

"I thought you were into pain," Zanka mutters awkwardly, rubbing at her arm.

Jabber calms down from laughing and sighs, lightly shaking her head even whilst lying down. "Oh, Zanka. What makes you think anyone likes their uterus shedding?"

"I… so yer sayin' you get riled up from gettin' shot all over, but some stupid period pains do ya in?"

"Ugh, 's no fun though. It just hurts. It's not like I'm fighting nobody, so there's no adrenaline rush. Plus, I'm on day two. That's, like, the worst one."

Zanka never really thought about it like that. Jabber has an abnormal appreciation for pain. Of that, Zanka is certain. Yet, Jabber hardly receives it outside of fights. Zanka has smacked her around a little during their bickering, sure, but Jabber seemed to be into it enough to joke about enjoying it. She had never complained or gotten upset. Much the opposite, actually.

This whole situation has really thrown Zanka for a loop. It would seem as though she doesn't know a whole lot about masochism. It's probably not as straightforward as someone liking all sorts of pain, even if her past experiences with Jabber made her think that's how it all works. It's more likely that a masochist only likes certain types of pain in certain situations. That has to be the case.

Jabber continues talking, interrupting Zanka's thoughts.

"I usually take a little something for the pain, but I can't even get up to get nothin'. Got halfway to the door, and boom, cramps got so bad they knocked my ass out."

Well, shit. Zanka wonders just how bad her cramps must be that they've got even Jabber immobilized. It's only now as she ponders about this that she notices something off about Jabber's hands.

…Where the hell is her jinki?

"Where's Mankira?" Zanka asks. "Are they okay?"

Jabber's demeanor changes immediately. She whines, burying her face in her hands. "I failed them."

"…!"

"Kira's in the bathroom," she says. "Took a shower at like 3 A.M., 'bout fell asleep in there, and I forgot to put 'em back on before I went to bed. My poor baby is all alone in there!"

Zanka wants to ask how anyone could forget their jinki, but Zanka has to admit that she has also forgotten about Lovely Assistaff a handful of times. She usually doesn't let her stray far from her sight, but Zanka is really only human. And so is Jabber. Zanka can only wonder how tired she must have been to let Mankira slip her mind. She might have been in pain back then, too.

"I can go get 'em for ya," Zanka suggests.

Jabber goes unnaturally quiet for a moment, eyes seemingly glazed over. Just as Zanka is about to ask what's up with her, Jabber perks up and smiles. "Aww, Zan-Zan, you know how to treat a lady right."

"I came all this way. I ain't just gon' leave," Zanka says earnestly. She stands up off the floor, shifting her gaze from Jabber to her unmade bed. Some of the blankets have been pulled halfway onto the floor, as though Jabber had crawled out of bed and nearly taken them with her. "But first things first, you gotta get back in bed. And I'm gonna fix ya somethin' for the pain so you don't gotta stab yourself with that pain-numbing shit of yours."

Jabber groans. "You're no fun."

"It tastes good, at least," Zanka says. "And Kira's tough. They can wait a few more minutes."

"Course my baby's tough," Jabber mutters. "Just hurry up."

Getting Jabber back onto the bed isn't too difficult. Zanka decides to simply place a hand under her back and another under her knees, and she is easily able to lift and carry her over. As she does so, Zanka gets a whiff of Jabber and realizes that she smells really good at the moment. During their fights, Jabber tends to reek of chemicals, blood, and sweat. While there is a hint of sweat from her current predicament, her soap or bodywash actually overpowers it. The scent is… something floral, Zanka guesses.

Momentarily, Zanka wonders if Jabber makes any sorts of soaps or other cleaning products herself. If she knows how certain chemicals, toxins, and whatever the hell all work, then can't she make other stuff? It would make sense, wouldn't it? Zanka never really understood chemistry or any of the other related scientific disciplines all that well, but she's sure Jabber is intelligent enough to take advantage of her knowledge of poisons in any creative way possible. After all, Zanka has seen some of the extent of her knowledge outside of what Jabber has shared with her.

Up against the wall of her bedroom is a bookshelf full of books on poisons, biology, chemistry, and all sorts of other things. There's some fiction, too, but Zanka has never looked too closely at any of it. Jabber even has a desk in here that's covered in clutter, no doubt serving as a spot for her to brainstorm new ideas. Zanka wonders just how much she wouldn't be able to comprehend if she were to go and sort through all of the things that Jabber surrounds herself with on a daily basis. Damn natural talent.

As soon as she reaches the bed, Zanka sets Jabber down gently and pulls some blankets up for her. It's only once she fully retracts her hands that she realizes she's never actually handled the Raider so gently before. They have only come to know each other's touch through violence. Now, there is something else—something soft and smelling of flowers.

Jabber curls up into a ball again, nearly burying her face into her knees. She doesn't even make a quip about Zanka carrying her or anything. For a moment, Zanka wonders if she really did touch Jabber so carefully. There's no way neither of them would say anything about it, right? But the warmth of Jabber's skin lingers on Zanka's own—a reminder that this isn't all some strange dream.

Unsure of how to feel about this, Zanka decides it's time to take her leave. Doing something methodical like preparing tea should help set her head on straight and clear her muddled mind.

When she comes back a few minutes later, it's with a pot of freshly brewed tea. She pours a cup for Jabber and sets it on her nightstand. "It's an anti-inflammatory blend of some sorts. Not quite sure what's in it, but I doubt you have any allergies."

"Allergies are for weak little shits," Jabber mutters, moving to prop herself up on her arm.

"Imagine bein' able to breathe in No Man's Land, yet a cup of tea takes you out."

Jabber huffs a laugh as she finally sits all the way up. "That'd be lame as hell. I ain't letting no allergies get the better of me. And even if they did, Kira could pump me full of somethin' or another and set me straight, y'know? It'd be fine." Just then, Jabber pauses. "Hey, wait a minute. I thought you said you'd go get them."

Zanka crosses her arms. "Drink yer damn tea, and I will."

"Well, no need to be so bossy, Miss Bad Attitude."

Jabber takes a sip before pulling it away and sticking her tongue out with her mouth open. She inhales and exhales through her mouth, as though panting. Her eyes remain half-lidded.

"Ah, it buln ma tong."

"What? Are you drooling?!"

"H-hot," Jabber sucks in a breath of air and wipes at her plump lower lip with her sleeve. "Said it burned my th… my tongue. Burns… so good."

Zanka looks away quickly, feeling her face warm up in what must be secondhand embarrassment. Freak.

"I got that much, weirdo. I'm gonna get Mankira. You better get your shit together by the time I get back."

Zanka finally heads into the bathroom and immediately glances over toward the sink. There are a couple of products set about the counter, but she easily spots the set of rings settled down on a plush handtowel. They're all laid out flat, clearly set down with care. She almost can't believe Jabber didn't even finish dragging herself across the floor to get to them. She knows she would do so for Lovely Assistaff no matter how much pain she was in.

Zanka does recall, however, that Jabber said she tried to get to them and then passed out from the pain. Could it be that Jabber has been mostly sleeping all day and she's only just woken up? How long has she been passed out on the floor? It isn't the middle of the night or anything, but the sun should be going down in an hour or so.

Staring at Mankira, Zanka wonders if she should scoop them up or if there's a better way to carry them. Would it be disrespectful? The rings might scrape against each other. Plus, she'd have to drop the pile of rings onto the table or into Jabber's hands, and that wouldn't feel right.

She glances at her own fingers, then back to the rings, and she lets herself wonder. For a moment, she considers what would happen if she put on all the rings and brought them to Jabber on her own hands. Jabber can be a bit of a flirt sometimes, so she'd probably say something somewhat unexpected that just makes Zanka want to roll her eyes. Or, more likely, she would get upset. Most people don't just let others handle their vital instruments. Rudo sure learned that lesson the hard way, as Zanka recalls. She still can't believe he had the nerve to just snatch up Lovely Assistaff like that…

That's when it hits her.

Jabber is letting Zanka handle her jinki. She trusts her enough to let her go to a whole other room and get them. Trusts her to handle them with care and bring them to her. Trusts her… Jabber trusts Zanka. Really, truly trusts her with the other half of her soul.

What is she supposed to do with that?

After a short mental crisis, Zanka heads back to Jabber's room carrying all of the rings on the little towel. It's the best way she could figure to carry them. When she sets them down, Jabber makes a big show of apologizing to Mankira, kissing all over them, and saying she'll never forget to put them back on ever again.

Once she's wearing Mankira again and admiring how they look on her fingers, Jabber finally glances back up at Zanka. "So, why're you here anyway? Didn't you say you wanted a fight?"

Zanka sputters. "Didn't we go over this? I thought you were dying or somethin'."

"Were you really worried for me?" Jabber asks. Oddly, she says this as though she were bored. Not touched or surprised that Zanka went out of her way for her—bored. Like Zanka is the weird one in this situation.

Zanka frowns. "Don't get it twisted. I'm not worried about you in particular. I'm… Cleaners are meant to help anyone in trouble."

"Mhm. So I'm just anyone to you, huh? Figures."

What? Can she make up her damn mind?!

"No! You're…" Zanka pauses.

What? Why did she just deny that? What the hell is she supposed to say now?

Jabber looks at her with slightly widened eyes.

"You're, uh… How am I supposed to beat ya if you're already dead, huh? I can't let you get away that easy."

"But I wasn't dying."

"Not the point!"

Jabber smirks, and Zanka knows she's trying to rile her up, but it's so easy to let herself fall into that trap.

Then Jabber crumples, falling onto her side and bringing her knees up to her chest. "Uggh, this shit is the worst."

"I just… You've always been talkin' about how much ya like pain n' all. When I called ya, it really sounded like you were dyin'. And then you said you really were dyin'. How could I have known you were bein' dramatic if I couldn't see what was goin' on?"

"Hmm. What makes you think I'd tell you if I was really bleeding out? Better yet, what makes you think I would call you instead of Cthoni?"

For some reason, that actually kind of stings. That is, until Zanka realizes that Jabber is just pushing her buttons again.

"Wait a minute, I'm the one who called you, asshole!"

Jabber snickers. "You're so cute when you're angry."

"I'd threaten to throttle ya, but you'd like it too much."

"Ugh, 'm honestly not even in the mood right now. Maybe tomorrow."

"I'm not actually gonna throttle ya."

"Aww, man. Why not?"

Before Zanka can reply, a loud grumble sounds from Jabber's stomach. She even has the gall to look a bit sheepish as she runs a hand over her belly. As she does so, Zanka catches sight of the chipped black polish on her nails and, briefly, wonders if Jabber paints them herself. The polish is always on her nails, so does she repaint them often? Is there someone else who paints them for her?

Either way, Zanka doesn't need to get distracted by thinking of something so insignificant. What matters is that Jabber's stomach has just growled.

"You haven't eaten?"

Jabber lies back and swats a hand dismissively. "I just told ya, I haven't gotten up off the floor all day. How could I have?"

Well, that explains some things. Should Zanka go get something for her to eat or just bring something from the kitchen? Now that she thinks about it, it's kind of weird that she doesn't know much about Jabber's tastes. They've chatted with each other after fights, and one time they even wandered around and got some elote from a kind street vendor who asked if they had just gotten mugged.

Zanka can't quite remember the excuse that she came up with at the time, but Jabber had found it funny. It was back then, when they had sat down and munched on their snacks, that she found out some more about the Raider. She likes to sniff her food before eating it, and she eats a bit faster than Zanka. She's also surprisingly chill after the adrenaline and whatnot from their fight wears off. It's like she becomes a whole 'nother person.

Her demeanor back then wasn't very dissimilar to now, Zanka supposes. Jabber is really just lying in bed and joking around a little bit.

Jabber's stomach growls again, this time more demandingly.

"Damn, shut up," Jabber groans, looking down at her belly.

Thinking about food has made Zanka realize that she is actually getting kind of hungry herself. She supposes she'll have to go out and get something for the both of them to eat.

"I'm gonna get some soup," Zanka decides out loud.

Jabber glances up at her with slightly raised brows. "You're what now?"

"Hey, are you allergic to fish or anythin'?"

"…"

"Oh, wait, right, we—"

"—Yeah, I kinda—"

"—We established—"

"—I already said no," Jabber finishes.

There's a moment of awkward silence, and Zanka scratches at the back of her neck. She coughs lightly. "Uh, I'm gonna get soup, okay? I'll be right back."

"Why soup?"

"Hm? Oh, 'cause you're on your period. You need warm meals to lessen your cramps."

"Ugh. I want ice cream, though."

"You're not supposed to have ice cream on your period, idiot. It'll make your cramps worse and—"

Jabber flips over onto her pillow and groans. "Fiiiiine," her muffled voice spills out.

"Okay, then," Zanka says as she steps out of the room.

Just as promised, Zanka pops back in around half an hour or so later. She was smart enough to leave through the front door so it would be unlocked when she got back. Surely even in such a state, Jabber would be competent enough to defend herself if anyone were to try breaking in. Zanka isn't worried about that.

Briefly, she considers setting the soup and rice down in the kitchen, but she realizes that Jabber isn't going to want to get out of bed. She'll just have to bring it to her room. But how can she do so? All of this stuff can't fit on Jabber's nightstand.

Actually, Zanka has a bit of a strange idea.

Jabber lies with her eyes closed, trying to take a nap. The only problem is that her stomach is still growling, and her cramps are still cramping. It's not the ideal condition for getting comfortable enough to sleep. If she was pumped full of some kind of neurotoxin concoction, she could probably pass right out. It's just too bad there doesn't seem to be something like a tolerance for her uterus trying to kill her from the inside.

Still a bit chilly in spite of sweating, Jabber pulls her blankets up to her chin. Gosh, she feels like complete shit in the worst way possible. It's dull and boring for the most part—more of an annoyance than anything. But every five to ten minutes, she gets this wave of relentless pain that has her wanting to unleash Mankira and carve her uterus out of her damn body. It would've been real funny if she had done that before Zanka showed up…

To be honest, Jabber kind of misses Zanka being here. It was a bit weird to have her come in unannounced like that, but it didn't make her feel any worse than before. It allowed her to have a distraction for a short while, and to easily get back in bed. She just doesn't get why having Zanka see her like this has her feeling a little off. Zanka has given her a few good ass-whoopings, but being disheveled and covered in blood isn't the same as being in her pajamas with clammy skin and no bra on. Jabber isn't quite sure what it is that's bothering her, but she does know that she wishes Zanka were seeing her when she's good and ready for it.

With a click, Jabber hears the front door open and shut. What the hell? Who's breaking into her house right now? She'll have to just wait on them to come on in here, and then she'll sic Kira on 'em.

Except, for some odd reason, Mankira still won't respond.

Jabber rubs her thumb against the ring on her forefinger, trying to be gentle and coax them into coming out. "Come on, Kira, I'm not gonna use your precious claws on myself, I just need to take out whatever asshole is stupid enough to break into my house," she pleads. Once again, Mankira doesn't respond.

What Jabber didn't tell Zanka earlier is that Mankira doesn't come out when she's on her period. Not unless she's in a fight, at least. Jabber used to try and stab herself to feel good and lessen the pain, but Mankira doesn't let her do that anymore. Must be some kinda tough love thing. Or maybe they don't want her bleeding anymore than she already is. In any case, Jabber really does feel terrible for having left them in the bathroom last night. She had hurried and gotten dressed in her room, and since she was so tired, she sat down on her bed. She was waiting on the lotion that she had put on to dry, not wanting to get it all over Mankira if she put them back on her fingers too soon. Jabber must have near-instantly passed out on the bed.

Hopefully Mankira understands how exhausted Jabber had been at the time. She had just come back from a several days-long mission intercepting something or another from a trafficking ring. Jabber hadn't really been paying attention to what the boss man had been saying; she was only there to let loose and fight some scumbags. So, unfortunately, she didn't realize it was going to be more of a long and drawn-out mission that involved her getting absolutely no sleep for three days in a row. When she got back home in the middle of the night, she was worn out. Starting her period on the way home and having no sanitary products on-hand was just the icing on top of the shit cake.

Jabber listens to the various sounds of the intruder messing around in another room, and she closes her eyes. Mankira still won't listen to her. Why are they being so weird, huh?

Ugh. Guess she'll just die. It's too bad Zanka left. Realistically, Jabber knows she'll be able to take down anyone who tries to get to her, even without Mankira's help. However, it's kind of amusing to think of how Zanka would react if she really does die. Jabber can only imagine the shocked look on her face after finding out that right after she left, Jabber got straight up murdered. She'd probably feel soooooo guilty, like the goody two-shoes she is—most of the time, at least. Jabber finds herself giggling quietly at the thought of the Cleaner being all distraught over her death. Zanka can be so silly sometimes.

If Jabber lives to see another day, she'll have to work harder to corrupt her. Get her to her full potential. Help her learn to live a little more. All that jazz.

The door to her bedroom opens, and Jabber is ready to jump whoever this person is. Except, after doing a double take, she realizes it's literally just Zanka. Holding her kitchen table. The whole thing. In her hands.

"Huh," Jabber says stupidly. She rubs at her eyes and then blinks rapidly. Is she having some kind of fever dream right now?

Zanka sets the kitchen table down right in front of the bed. "Got the soup."

Jabber sits up slowly and blinks at her. "You were being for real?"

"I said I'd be back soon, didn't I?" Zanka says, shooting her a confused glance before heading back out the door.

After a few more trips, Zanka ends up bringing some food and a chair for herself. She plops down opposite of Jabber, who has fully sat up and is now just staring at the containers in front of her.

"You brought soup," is all she can think to say.

"Sinigang," Zanka clarifies. "So ya get enough broth and iron. And there's rice, too."

"I know what it is," Jabber says. "I just… nevermind."

Of course Jabber knows what it is. Zanka obviously went to the quaint little restaurant not too far out from here. The auntie who runs it is real nice, so Jabber stops by every now and then. Admittedly, she mostly just gets the lumpia. Of course someone like Zanka would get her the healthier option, though. At least it's still tasty. After not having eaten all day, Jabber could scarf down just about anything.

Ready to dig in, Jabber dumps the little cup of white rice into her soup and mixes it around. Jabber's mouth is already watery before she even takes the first bite, which is heavenly.

She ignores that Zanka is staring at her as she practically inhales a couple spoonfuls of hot soup. It has cooled off a little, but it is still hot enough to make her tongue tingle. It's basically the perfect temperature.

Jabber glances up to see Zanka blowing on the broth.

"This a date?" She asks jokingly.

Zanka, who had just swallowed a spoonful of her soup, sputters and chokes. She puts a hand over her mouth, coughing.

Jabber smirks at the sight. She may or may not have timed that perfectly.

"Hell no," Zanka grits out, still trying to clear her throat. "Are you serious?"

"Nah," Jabber says. She lifts a finger. "But, hypothetically—"

"No."

"Damn, I didn't even get to say nothin'."

"You didn't have to."

Jabber shrugs, and they eat in silence for a few minutes. She keeps sneaking glances at Zanka all the while. The Cleaner looks kind of strange outside of her usual uniform. Jabber has never seen her dressed so casually before—a worn gray jacket over a white shirt. It makes her look so normal, as opposed to how she usually tries to look very put-together.

Staring at Zanka's soft cheeks and the way her thick lashes flutter against them as she drinks her soup, Jabber is met with the overwhelming urge to jump across the table and… stab her, or something. Zanka would probably get all pissed off and try to beat the shit out of her. It would truly make Jabber's day! But Jabber also really wants to finish eating her food right now, and she's still pretty tired even though she's slept all day. Maybe they can fight another time.

It's not until she's about halfway through with her bowl that Jabber realizes her cramps have subsided a good bit. Between the tea and the soup, they must have really done something for her.

Jabber has admitted before that she really does love when Zanka makes her hurt real good. But maybe it's also nice that she came and made her feel better, too. Now Jabber is feeling all warm and cozy, and if she were to lie down, she could probably pass out in seconds. That, however, she won't say out loud.

"How come you came back anyway?" Jabber can't help but ask. She just doesn't get it. Zanka clearly thought Jabber was just full of shit and messing with her, and Jabber figured that Zanka just gave her the tea and left to placate her. So, why would she willingly come back? She knows Jabber is just dealing with her period. It sucks, but she's kind of used to it.

"It's like I said, I told ya I was gonna bring soup. I was hungry too, y'know. Might as well kill two birds with one stone."

Oh, right. She was hungry. That kind of makes sense. Jabber doesn't get why she didn't just eat at the restaurant, though.

"Could've just left," Jabber says.

"But you look like complete shit, and ya haven't eaten nothin'. Did you want me to leave your dumb ass to fend for yourself?"

"Eh, I can deal. I'm used to it."

"Well, you shouldn't have to," Zanka argues back. "Not if I can help it."

Well, shit. Jabber can't think of anything to say in response. Zanka really just wanted to help her out, huh? Jabber can't say she'd do the same. She feels good around her, fighting her, arguing, touching, everything. But this sappy shit isn't really her thing. Probably. It's fine since Zanka is the one doing all this for her, but Jabber isn't sure how she'd even go about acting like that. It's not in her nature.

She doesn't get how Zanka could act like this either. It doesn't seem like the type of thing she'd go and do. Doesn't Jabber just piss her off? It's not like she's unaware of the effect she has on Zanka. It's not accidental either. Getting her riled up always does something funny to Jabber's insides, making her anticipate the two of them throwing hands.

So why, sitting across from her now, is she having these weird feelings? Her heart is beating a bit erratically, and her insides are all giddy like they get when she's excited for a fight. But she doesn't really want to fight now. She just wants to sit here and eat with Zanka. How confusing can this get? Why does her body have to send her mixed signals?

Is Zanka treating her like this just to mess with her? Does she know she's confusing the hell out of Jabber? That has to be it. This has to be revenge. At least it's with a dish served piping hot. It seems to be lessening the intensity of her cramps. Maybe Zanka is right about ice cream fucking her insides up when she's on her period.

Whatever. It's not like she'll ever admit it.

Being around Zanka, whether or not they're attacking each other or just sitting across from each other, makes her feel… Jabber can't quite put her finger on it. She's just certain that it isn't unpleasant.

"You ain't goin' soft on me, are you?" Jabber asks.

Zanka huffs. "In your dreams."

"Not what I dream about."

Zanka rolls her eyes and takes a bite of her rice. She hasn't mixed it in with the soup. Jabber wonders if she's one of those people who doesn't like different food items to touch. It's so like her that Jabber can't even find it annoying. She grew up mixing anything and everything in with her rice, so she can't relate.

"You're still gonna kick my ass after all this is said and done, though, right?"

"Obviously," Zanka replies, like that's a given. She doesn't even look up from her food to say it to Jabber's face.

Jabber admires the warm, fluttery feeling in her chest. She can't wait for their next fight. Jabber will have to cook up a new cocktail to try on her as a thanks for all this food and for her company. Something exciting. Something Zanka will love. Maybe something similar to that neurotoxin surprise from the Trash Beast that got her tweaking on the floor and laughing her ass off at some hallucination. Jabber can't help but smile a little at the thought. They're gonna have a lot of fun in the near future.

She'll get to brainstorming later. For now, Jabber is just going to finish her food and see if she can get Zanka to stay a little longer. Just so it's not so boring here. That's all it really is.