Chapter Text
He can still feel the rubble beneath him. The way the rock scraped his body as he was flung against it, tumbling over himself from the blow. The sensations are vivid and engrained in his mind. The burning of those cuts. The agony of Jabber’s slash in his leg.
Again. He had been caught by him again.
That hurts more than the physical wounds. The failure.
The memories don’t stop there, though, no that would be too merciful. Zanka bites his cheek, desperate to stop the flow of images flashing behind his eyelids. He feels the final stab all over again, the cool metal sinking into his abdomen, the release of the fucking venom. And then things darken. Zanka feels as helpless as he did in the moment, reliving the feeling of poison rushing through his veins.
“Zanka?”
His eyes fly open. Enjin’s hand is on the doorknob, peeking into the infirmary as if to check that he was awake before coming inside. Zanka blinks vigorously, nodding his head too many times and stuffing his shaking hands beneath the thin blanket of his hospital bed. He bites his cheek harder and hopes desperately that Enjin doesn’t notice how quick his breaths are coming. Vulnerability- talking about something as traumatic as the other day- is not something Zanka is interested in.
Enjin steps inside, shutting the door behind him carefully. He takes a deep, exaggerated breath, stretching his arms as if he’s tired.
“How’re you feelin’?” He plops himself down on the bed next to Zanka’s, right hand rubbing his left shoulder like the muscles hurt. Zanka knows him well, this is just how he is- always feigning distraction. Zanka swallows, still trying to regain his composure. The flashbacks aren’t pretty.
“I’m good.” He tries not to choke on his words. Enjin raises an eyebrow, the movements of his body pausing.
“You’re sweating.”
Zanka’s hand flies up to his forehead. He’s not wrong. Enjin’s eyes narrow as he watches.
“And shaking too.” He lets out another exasperated breath. “Zanka you have to be honest with us. Eishia’s reports have stated your wounds are healing, but I’m looking at you and you look like shit.” Zanka’s mouth hangs open. He doesn’t even know what to say to defend himself. Enjin shakes his head, rubbing his hands together. He thumbs the tattoos on his wrists like he can physically feel them. They sit in silence for a little too long and Zanka knows Enjin is worried.
“Listen-” He shifts on the bed. “I’m not bringing you out with us for a while.” The words feel like a slap in the face and Zanka physically recoils.
“What? Eishia is clearing me- I’m allowed to leave tomorrow-” Zanka’s brow furrows and he can feel himself getting worked up all over again. “You can’t just bench me Enjin-”
“I’m not benching you! I’m not. I just- I want you to stay here and do the job you signed up for. You’re a Cleaner. You’ll do cleaning jobs nearby, just for a bit.” Zanka shakes his head, confusion spiraling around him.
“What are you doing, then?”
Enjin’s eyes flash for a moment before he meets Zanka’s gaze.
“Rudo.” He says. “We’re going to seek out the Information Broker and find Amo. The kid- it’s the only thing on his mind right now, but it isn’t a Cleaner’s job. I can’t in good conscience bring you with us.” Zanka makes a face.
“That sounds easier than-”
“It’s not.” Enjin stands. “Just- trust me.” He takes another long look at him and Zanka tries not to shift uncomfortably. Enjin somehow always manages to read right through people. Zanka’s hands are in tight fists beneath the covers, finger nails digging deep into his skin. He’s being left behind because he’s weak, that’s what his internal translator has to say about Enjin’s words. Jabber’s vital instrument flashes in his mind, sharp claws ripping through the air towards him. His maniacal laugh echoes in his ears.
“What about the Raiders?” He chokes out. Enjin stops in his tracks on the way to the door.
“They’ll lay low for a while since we foiled their plans,”
We didn’t do shit.
“Corvus says we’ll just deal with them as they come up, no sense in looking for trouble.” Enjin pauses in the doorway one more time. He glances back towards Zanka, running his hand through his hair as if this entire conversation has drained his energy. “Eishia will be in in a few minutes. She told me she’s settin’ you free today instead. Says you’ve been antsy.”
Zanka swallows hard and says nothing. He feels paralyzed. He thought things were getting better, but Enjin is keeping him out of Akuta missions?
Pathetic. He can taste blood in his mouth and he knows he’s run his cheek raw.
Doesn’t matter.
The door closes quietly and Zanka is left alone again.
“Fuck!” He slams his right fist into the mattress but the rough movement sends a tear of white agony through his mid section. He doubles over, clutching at his waist. Jabber. Chills run down his spine and he can feel his skin get clammy, goosebumps rising over his arms.
There’s a pull somewhere. He needs to settle the score. He needs to prove he can take him. Zanka’s breaths are quick again and a pit is growing in his stomach. Zanka is familiar with desperation, but this feeling is depravity. He… needs to fight him. There’s a knock on the door. Zanka’s head nearly snaps from his neck when he whips it towards the sound.
“Can I come in?” He can hear Eishia’s muffled voice on the other side. Zanka shuffles around quickly, trying to look as uninjured and unbothered as possible. He blinks away the strange fog in his eyes and leans back against the pillow.
“Come in!” He calls.
Eishia opens the door and shuffles inside. Her blonde hair catches the sunlight streaming in from the windows and nearly glows. She gives him a warm smile and in her hands she holds a tray of gauze and medical supplies.
“How are you feeling?” She’s quiet, as usual, but she’s sure of herself as she makes her way over, placing the tray on the mattress near the bottom of his bed and ordering him to sit up for her with a wave of her hand. Zanka tries to keep his breaths even. He has not been very composed today.
“I’m fine.”
Eishia smiles. She doesn’t buy it.
“Let me see.”
Zanka obeys and lets Eishia poke around for a while. She cleans and redresses the wound after another electric healing session and Zanka must admit he feels nearly perfect. If only the after effects of the venom could disappear as easily.
“Thank you,” He mumbles as she begins cleaning up.
“It’s really no big deal.” She’s sheepish, but something in her eyes tells Zanka she isn’t quite done. She feels him staring at her. He raises a slitted eyebrow.
“I have a few questions.” She blurts out. “And you can be honest with me because I don’t think I could even help so I won’t make you stay stuck here-” Zanka furrows his brow.
“What are you talking about?” The girl in front of him is almost melting in stress. What the hell is wrong with her? She bites her lip, looking him up and down and Zanka wants to crawl out of his skin. “Eishia what the hell-”
“When did you fight Jabber the first time?” She asks. “The first time he poisoned you?” Zanka is taken aback.
“We really gotta talk about this-?”
“Answer.” Her hands are on her hips and she stares him down with more confidence than he’s ever seen her have.
“Fuck- uh- a month ago, barely. Got me twice in less than two hours.” It’s physically painful to say the words. Zanka is already tucking his feet into his shoes. He wants to leave. “I’m cleared, right? I can go-”
“Just wait. And then he got you last week?” Her voice is so gentle but there’s no way for her to say the things she’s saying without driving him over the edge. Zanka takes a deep breath.
“Eishia look- Thank you for your healing- seriously. You’re the reason I’m alive, but I don’t want to talk about this.”
“You’re showing withdrawal symptoms.”
It’s like time stops. Eishia’s words hang in the air between them and yet Zanka feels like he can’t breathe.
“And it’s not your fault! It’s not like you sought out some sort of drug or anything- I just wonder what he’s got in those claws honestly- and three doses was enough for your body to-”
Yeah, no. That’s absurd.
The laughter escapes his body before he can check it. Zanka is doing all he can not to double over in throes of it- that and pain from his nearly healed wounds.
“Why are you laughing? It isn’t funny.” Eishia looks at him like he’s crazy. Zanka stands up from the bed.
“What symptoms?”
“The shaking, to start. The claminess, the-”
“I’m just off my game, doc. Seriously. There’s probably still venom hangin’ out inside me and it’ll pass. Withdrawal? That would imply addiction and trust me, there isn’t a single part of me that wants to go fight his ass again.” He strides past her. Eishia is baffled.
“You think I’m joking?”
“I think you’re wrong.” Zanka bites his lip again. He doesn’t mean to be an asshole. “Respectfully.” He picks up a hoodie Riyo brought him from his closet, pulling it on over his t-shirt. Finally free.
“I really think you should take this seriously, Zanka. It’s been a couple of days, the venom in your system would’ve dispersed on day two. You’re only getting worse now.”
“I trust in your healing.”
“I couldn’t get the poison out myself. I can’t do anything about that part.”
Zanka shakes his head dismissively. She’s over-tired from treating him.
“Can I go?” He gestures towards the door. Eishia purses her lips, a look of disappointment and anxiety on her face. Zanka can’t tell if the pang in his gut is guilt or his wound.
“Fine.”
Zanka waits a beat to look her in the eyes again, a silent sorry or a kind face, but she doesn’t look back up.
Great. He’s pissed off the doctor. He closes the door behind him, leaving Eishia alone in the infirmary.
Withdrawal? Seriously? He shakes his head. That’s impossible. He hasn’t felt great, but a hole was gauged into his midsection, so, what the hell can she expect? He holds a hand out in front of him, staring at his fingers. They aren’t shaking, not right now.
You’re fine.
He breathes a sigh of relief and then furrows his brow. He wasn’t actually worried, was he? It isn’t a real possibility. It just isn’t.
He folds his arms across his chest, making the trek through the building towards his own room slowly. It really has only been a few days since the incident. Zanka feels the resentment boiling up again, licking at his insides like a rabid dog.
He’ll go all out now. He’ll train harder. And one day soon he’ll face Jabber again.
Zanka Nijiku is going to win.