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Jabber and Zanka had a strange relationship. They weren't together, but they stuck together.
Jabber wouldn't considered Zanka a friend. But he didn't really considered anyone a friend, for the sole reason that he didn't like the word. If he were to say anyone was his friend, that honor would go to Hii, who had entertained his want for violence since they were kids. Zanka was nothing like Hii. That's why he was fun. Hii only fought with Jabber because Jabber told him to. Zanka wasn't like that. He would seek Jabber out and not-so-subtly hint at wanting to fight until Jabber humored him.
And the fights were good. It wasn't uncommon for other feel-good activities to follow suit, and that's how they got close. Jabber told Zanka some things he would never tell anyone else, not because he trusted him, but because he simply couldn't help it.
All this to say, Zanka knew about the Raiders. He wasn't happy about it, but he swore he wouldn't tell and Jabber knew him well enough to trust that word. Knew him well enough to fall asleep on his bed after without having to worry about Zanka carelessly letting someone in.
Cthoni wasn't a fan of this, constantly warning that Jabber shouldn't trust anyone that has nothing to do with the world their in, that doing so will only drag innocent people into the Raider's business. Jabber didn't care, he liked the dynamic they had going on, and Zanka wasn't oblivious to the shit that went on behind the scenes, not with half his family being involved in some way shape or form.
That being said, he didn't want to bring Zanka into a place that was actively dangerous, so he tried his hardest to not bother Zanka whenever he was bored, lest he bring trouble to the poor guy's doorstep.
But the world had a way of never doing what Jabber wanted it to, so here he was. Truth be told, Cthoni had told him to absolutely under no circumstances walk right into enemy territory just to antagonize, but Jabber hated to be told not to do something.
He lies on his side, too tired to turn over all the way, and waits for Zanka to answer the phone.
"Jesus, Jabber, it's the middle of the fucking night, what the hell do you want?" Zanka snaps the second he picks up, voice still raspy from sleep. Jabber smiles, "Mornin', just checking in."
"Yer a fuckin' asshole," Zanka curses, "Go back to bed."
"Wait!" The outburst sends a jolt of pain through Jabber's chest and he moans, "Fuck.."
"Are—are you—" Zanka stammers, "Are you seriously—"
"No- no, I'm not," Jabber says, grinning at the image of Zanka's flustered face. He knew exactly what the other thought, and as fun as that is, he is seriously bleeding out.
"I need ya to come get me, I'm a little banged up," He looks down at himself and laughs quietly, "Bring a couple bandages, if ya can."
"Banda—what the hell happened?" Zanka sounds much more awake now, mad, "Were you fighting someone? It's the middle of the night!"Were you fighting someone? It's the
"Zanka, please don't yell at me right now," Jabber sighs, "I'm already hard."
"…I'm hangin' up."
"I'm joking!" Jabber lies, "I really need you're help, please."
There's a moment of silence on Zanka's end, Jabber can hear him moving around presumably getting out of bed. Jabber takes the time to sit himself up, cursing under his breath. He reaches for his bag and fumbles around for a moment before pulling out his pain killer.
"What the hell?? You're an hour away!" Zanka shouts, and the sudden break in the silence startles Jabber, who almost drops his needle. He laughs, "Yeah, can ya get me?"
"Why don't you get one of your friends to do it? I ain't yer Uber."
"Wasn't even supposed to be here," Jabber explains as he sticks himself, he'd much rather just tough it out and enjoy the pain but he needs a clear head to talk to Zanka, "Imma be in so much trouble, 'Thoni's gonna be pissed."
Zanka grumbles something under his breath, but if the sounds are anything to go by, he's complaining as he climbs into his car.
"How hurt are ya? Do I need an ambulance?"
"Don't ask dumb questions, Zan-Zan, get me an ambulance and Imma end up in jail." Jabber leans his head against the brick of the wall behind him, closing his eyes. Zanka sighs, mumbling something about the Mafia and watching too many movies.
"You almost here?" Jabber asks after a moment of silence, only to immediately get yelled at, "No, I just fuckin' left! Don't piss me off, I'm the one comin' for ya, asshole!"
Jabber giggles as Zanka continues to rant loudly for the next 15 minutes. It's impressive how some one can have so many words to describe how stupid someone is. But Zanka's pretty smart, so it's no surprise he knows a million synonyms for dumbass. Jabber smiles softly as Zanka's rambling turns to white noise in the back of his mind. He feels his head swimming, fighting off the urge to fall asleep. He looks down at himself, finding that he's sitting in a huge pool of his own blood. Uh oh, that's not good.
"God damn," He hums. Z
"What?" Zanka asks, his rant cut short. Jabber doesn't answer, mesmerized by his own reflection. He's can't feel his legs.
"What the hell does that mean?" Zanka demands, "Did ya break em?"
Oops, had he said that out loud?"
"…yes."
Huh.
"Jabber, what is going on? How bad are you hurt, what happened exactly?" Zanka fires off the questions one by one, and they swim around Jabber's head as he processes slowly. He can hear the way Zanka is trying to sound annoyed, but the fear underneath it is making him sound a little shrill.
"Got shot 'coupla times," Jabber admits, "An' stabbed…an' drugged….aaaaaaaaannnnnnnn uh, somethin' else, I forgot."
"What the fuck?! It's the middle of the night what are you doing?!" Zanka shrieks, "I don't have the materials for that shit! Jabber, I'm calling 911!"
"Zanka, if ya do that I'm gonna go to jail and Zodyl will come after you for snitchin'." Zanka goes quiet, conflicted.
"I just need some bandaids, I can't even feel nothin', already took care of all tha," Jabber assures, patting his numb sides. Zanka doesn't say anything, but the sound of the engine picking up speed carries through the speaker clearly.
"Zanka? Say you won't." Jabber insists. More silence.
"Zank—"
"Alright, I get it, I won't." Zanka's voice is still shaky, but sounds more angry than scared. Good, that's how it's supposed to be."
"But I'm takin' ya to my friend. She's a doctor an' she won't tell if I cry 'bout it."
"Zanka you can't—"
"Well I ain't gonna come all this way to get ya just so you can bleed out in my car!" Zanka snaps, "I'm textin' her now, what's your blood type."
"Texting and driving? Zanka, I thought you followed the rules."
"Blood type, Jabber."
The sternness in the other's voice sends a shiver down Jabber's spine. He bites his lip and grins, "A positive, how 'bout you?"
"This isn't an icebreaker, Jabber," Zanka's eye roll is almost audible. Jabber shrugs, "I know, but I'm bored and it's either that or I fall asleep."
"….O positive."
"Boring. What's your zodiac?"
"You are bleeding out in the middle of fuckin' nowhere and your askin' fer my zodiac sign?" Zanka sounds more exasperated than scared, like it's a normal everyday conversation for the two of them to have.
"Imma Capricorn." Jabber chirps.
"Yer such a fuckin'— I can't believe ya. Aquarius." Zanka relents with a sigh, "And I'm 5 minutes away, hold on."
"We're compatible, I think," Jabber screws up his face, trying to remember the way the zodiacs worked. He was never into that thing much, but he was running outta things to talk about. He sighs heavily, the static slowly creeping into his vision. He thinks he hears Zanka talking to him, but it's too much effort to focus on what any of the words mean.
Jabber was gonna be really fucking pissed if this is how he went out, he'd much rather Zanka be the one to do it, he would be creative with it.
"—at are you talkin—bber? —swer me!" Zanka's voice goes in one ear and out the other. Jabber's tongue feels too heavy to respond so he just groans.
"—od, oh my—"
Jabber's arm goes limp and the hand holding the phone falls away from his ear. He opens his eyes and stares above him. They're too close to the city to see many stars, but it's still pretty. Looks like one of those paintings Momoa liked to look at. Oh crap, he was supposed to take Momoa to school tomorrow. Yikes, that's probably not happening. Maybe he could ask Zanka to do it for him.
Man, this is so boring. He can't even feel any of it. He wishes Zanka were here, at least there would be some banter. That guy is too funny.
"Jabber!" Oop. Speak of the devil.
Zanka trips over himself as he falls next to Jabber, looking over him with his hands hovering, unsure where to touch. Jabber smiles at him, "..ancy meeting you ere.." He can't fully form his words, but the message gets across. Zanka ignores it though, "What the fuck what the fuck—"
He shakily loops one of Jabber's arms over his shoulder, half- dragging and half-helping him to the car. Jabber winces as he grabs weakly at his bag, only for it to slip out of his fingers, "on't 'eve it."
Zanka pauses and looks back, then keeps moving. He shoves Jabber in the front seat of the car and tears open his shirt. His already pale and sweaty face gets even pale and sweatier. He pulls a medkit out of god-knows-where and starts sloppily trying to clean him off. It's clear he has no idea what the hell he's doing, and if Jabber were anymore coherent and aware of what was happening, he would've teased him no doubt.
"Fuck—fuck- I-I can't—Jabber, I need—"
"No hospital." Jabber whispers, unable to put the finality into his words that they need. Zanka looks up at him with wide eyes, and it's then that Jabber realizes he shouldn't have called him. He'd thought that Zanka could handle it, he had no problem breaking bones and choking him, he was no stranger to violence. But Zanka had grown up rich, grown up sheltered. Training with a stick and training with a gun were two different worlds to live in. He'd seen first hand how normal people reacted to the things he saw daily, he'd thought Zanka was different. But it wasn't his fault for being normal.
Zanka's hands have gone still, his expression fallen to a distant stare. Jabber uses all his energy to lift his hand up and pat the other's cheek, bringing him back down to Earth.
"'S okay," He slurs, and god he can hardly see, that can't be good, "Jus dump me at 'Thoni's…she'll get sumone to clean ya car after."
He was never quite sure how she did it, but the girl could clean blood out of cushions better than anyone he'd ever seen. Zanka's eyes narrow, "Fuck you. Fuck you. I fuckin' hate you."
He finishes wrapping him up, and although it's not the best, it's better than most untrained people could do. He slams the door and runs around back to the front seat. Jabber leans his head against the window, eyes drifting closed. He feels the car move, the sudden jolt jostling him in the seat. He wishes he could feel the ache that no doubt followed, but his pain killers have yet to wear off.
He registers the speed at which they're going, which definitely isn't legal, but he's too exhausted to tease Zanka for his rule breaking.
"Don't! Jabber, you keep yer eyes fucking open or I'll kill you, I swear!" Zanka glances at him, slapping at his shoulder. Jabber chuckles and waves him off, "Ahready dyin', someone beat ya to it."
"You're goin' ta live, don't be an asshole," Zanka snaps, sounding more like he's reassuring himself than Jabber. Jabber doesn't bother correcting him, he thinks if Zanka makes this car go any faster it might explode. Instead he heaves himself over to lay his head on Zanka's shoulder rather than the window. He can feel the other shaking, and it occurs to him that he's never seen Zanka like this.
In all the time he'd known Zanka, he'd only ever seen him lose control when he was mad. He'd never seen despair painted so clearly onto his face, never seen him on the verge of tears like this. Surely he can't be this upset over Jabber. Jabber had never meant much to anyone before, never had anyone look at him with anything even remotely resembling— oh.
Jabber looks blearily up at Zanka, blinking in surprise at the tears that flow from his eyes. He feels a sting in his own eyes, and the pieces put themselves together quickly.
"I don't wanna go," He whispers, his hands clenching into fists as he tries to suppress the shaking, "Zanka, don' wanna die."
Zodyl's training meant that most people in the Raiders had fear of death forced out of them quickly. They accept that it's a part of their job and get over it. Jabber hadn't ever been scared of dying. There was time he was, of course, but he'd been young. After his parents died, he decided that death couldn't be all that bad, maybe it would be a little boring, but nothing he should be afraid of. This feeling—fear, was entirely new to him.
"Yer not gonna die," Zanka's voice cracks, "I ahready told ya, so just shut the fuck up, okay? Shut up."
Jabber nods, closing his eyes and letting himself slip. If he had to die with anyone, he'd rather it be Zanka. Cthoni wouldn't care, Momoa's too young, and him and Hii aren't friends like that. No, this is good. He's right where he wants to be. Zanka would probably be scarred for life, he'd probably never be able to be normal after this. Jabber feels a little bad, almost, but he's half-dead, so he can't bring himself to care too much.
Jabber's not a self-less guy. Many a girlfriend has called him self-centered, and too many boyfriends have called him vain. He doesn't care. He wants to leave his mark on Zanka, he wants him to remember him forever, wants to impact Zanka's life just like Zanka impacted his, if more. Because Jabber Wonger is in love with Zanka Nijiku, and as he lays dying, he decides he doesn't want Zanka to love anyone else the same way he loved him.
