Archive of Our Own

Things have been different for Amo.

Back with Mister, she didn't really get to learn much, or go places, and do things, and meet people, which is something that seems to be a really big part of the job as a Cleaner.

It isn't that Amo doesn't like it here, no, not at all. Mister was terrible, and she loves the new friends she's made! But sometimes it feels like a lot. She went from knowing only one person to the whole cleaners' base, and they started trying to help her. Help her with how her brain works, with things that most children learned then in primary school, but she never got to.

It's mostly been Elsie who has been helping her. There were a handful of children in the cleaners, most of whom were and are taught by her. A bright woman, with a dress to match each lesson, she plans and works to attempt to help. Lesson plans for various levels, resources for spots that students need help with, and she is undoubtedly good at her job.

However, that didn't mean that it was easy. The woman had experience, sure, but that didn't mean that Amo could go from knowing almost nothing to being on grade level for her fifteen-year-old self in a week, or even a month.

She had been given a test and sufficient time to study for it. It wasn't anything extremely important, a benchmarking test with things at the elementary to middle school level, and some things she could look at. There was by no means any force for her to start working on learning more on her own or anything, but Amo looked at the books in the woman's hand and felt so happy. Immediately, she had thanked the woman, taken the books and the folder of mock tests, and practically ran all the way to a certain man's room.

The said man was extremely smart. A man that, while most seemed to hate, they could also accept that he was a genius, an idiot one at that, however, a genius nonetheless.

Jabber was extremely happy to help her with it. He was by no means a stranger to science. Back in his more competitive fighting days, he would steal books from college students to learn more about chemistry and biology, the core things needed for messing around with toxins. After that, it just seemed like common sense for the others, environmental to help him know what chemicals mixed with what could turn out deadly, physics to help him achieve his move that from an outside view looks to be defying all known laws, but in reality is just using the small things to his advantage.

So, it was a given that when Amo looked up at him with those sweet innocent eyes and wanted to start learning about math and science, he immediately focused in. It was a given that when Amo looked up at him with her round and sweet eyes, asking him to help her study for this super-duper important test, he was immediately on board.

It was fun at times, especially with the science parts; however, a lot of the math sections ended with angry, overwhelmed tears. Why does Amo need to know division? The long lists of numbers Mr. Jabber made her write out when solving a problem made Amo's head hurt. After that, all Amo wants is a nap and maybe a hug.

But Jabber never got mad at her. Sometimes, when he had to repeat himself about twenty times over something he found simple, he left the room for a second, and came back smelling like a skunk, but he was always patient, and Amo really appreciated that.

The only section she's been given was the math and science portions; the English and history portions were a week later, and Ms. Zanka was supposed to help her with that, because Ms. Zanka likes history and reading a lot more than her partner did.

All of this brings us to now, where Amo stands, eyebrows furrowed at the large 64 on her page. Ms. Zanka once got a grade of 70 and looked really upset. Should Amo be proud of herself when Ms. Zanka thought that something worse than hers was bad?

Her feet pad against the ground as she walks back over to Jabber's room.

A small, delicate hand raps against the door in a special pattern Jabber taught her to know who was there. (Most of the time, when Amo seems off during the day, then Jabber comes to visit her for a surprise sleepover or just to make sure she’s ok. Amo doesn't let just anyone in her nest!)

“Yo, wassup! How'd your-” The dread-headed man shakes his head and snaps his fingers a few times before looking back up at her with a smile, “Test thingymabober go?”

Amo holds the test out on quiet hands, staying quiet so as not to make him upset if he really doesn't like it.

Jabber looks at her for a moment, an eyebrow quirked at her quietness, a happy Amo is a bubbly Amo; Jabber’s noticed by now she's only quiet when scared, he picks up the test and looks at her with a serious expression.

“Amo.” He widens his eyes and lowers himself slightly to look her in the eyes.

He keeps it like that for a moment before tossing the paper off to the side and threading his arms around her waist with a smile, lifting her off the ground and spinning them. “Amo, you’ve done fucking amazing!”

The girl starts giggling as the man stops spinning and shakes her some in his arms.

“Did Amo do ok?”

He places her down and walks over to his bed, sitting down on it and smiling at her.

“Girl, how much of that shit did you know like, fuckin’ two weeks ago?”

“Amo didn't really know much.”

Shaking his head and giving a motion for her to come closer, he narrows his eyes slightly, then shrugs and puts back on his constant expression.

Amo walks closer and sits down on the chair next to his desk, looking at the small bookshelf between it and the closet with awe.

"See somethin' ya like?" He inquires, tilting his head to look at what has her entranced.

"Amo used to have a lot of books."

Her voice isn't sad per se, but it's distant, like she's looking at something that's brought her to a time she can't decide if she misses or is glad it is over.

"What happened to Amo's books?"

She turns her body slightly to face him and looks at the ground sadly. "When Amo became a cleaner, Amo had to leave her things behind."

He hums and stands walking over and squatting down, most of the books on that shelf are the previously mentioned textbooks, all annotated with theories, and a few notebooks of practically anything that came to mind.

"Does Amo miss her books? We could always get them."

"Amo thinks she likes books, but those are icky."

His eyes flicker to the closet door, and he spins the chair the girl is sitting in to face the shelf.

"like. Mentally or physically icky?"

"Amo thinks of Mister with her old books."

He nods his head slowly. Amo shakes her head, the haze from her eyes disappearing as she looks up at Jabber.

"Amo doesn't think that matters anymore. Does Mr. Jabber have any storybooks?"

His face changes into a playful expression as he looks at her, then slides the closet door open, the space that used to be filled with clothes now turned into a tiny library.

"My bitch wife is mostly the one into stories," HR squats down and motions at a smaller cube-shaped shelf at the bottom. "These are some of her novels, which are what I think most like, big kid story books are called."

He picks up a book, more so to just have something to do with his hands than anything, as he looks back up at Amo, who's staring at the shelves and oddly yet well-organized sections with awe.

"Amo's a big kid!"

Humming to himself, he looks at the cover, and remembers when he and Zanka had their parallel play time of him working on an experiment (you can't just tell Jabber that someone has chronic pain and expect him to not start trying to find some concoction to fix it!) And her reading this exact book and telling him what was happening every few minutes. He remembers her saying it's like if an undomesticated Jabber had a son, and he figures that isn't a good book to give the girl.

"Does Amo know what books she likes?" He really needs to ask her teacher what her reading level is, he thinks to himself before he flinches and blinks repeatedly for a second. Damn! Zanka really was right when talking about how he got domesticated. He would have never given a shit about this before!

"Amo likes stories with love!"

Moving so he's fully sitting on the ground, he starts looking through the books. They talk about small things, some of the books Jabber isn't letting her take, fun details of them, and ideas of kinds of books she may like. Minutes pass, and Amo stares at the spines of some of the books before looking back down at him.

"Where does Mr. Jabber keep his clothes? Mr. Jabber's room doesn't have room!"

"My lovely wife's room, bro, she keeps my clothes, I keep her books. Also, she st- not steals, rightfully takes my clothes to wear to sleep, and August made her a bunch of shit she doesn't wanna throw away and make him feel bad, but also that I think is stylin’ so,”

Amo has a look that signifies thought as she nods her head slowly, her hair swinging slightly with the motion.

“Is it like the-” She begins talking, but Jabber interrupts as she's speaking, nodding his head along.

“Communism?”

“Marriage?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess,” Jabber says after a pause, putting a few of the books he had taken out back.

He stands up, putting his hands on his knees and reaching up to grab the handle as he does.

“Amo likes Mr. Jabber's bracelets,” Amo says as he moves to close the closet door, mentioning the bracelets jiggling against each other when he moves his arms.

“Oh, these are bangles, Ms. Zanka got them for me.”

Amo puts her hands out and looks up at him, and Jabber places his hands down. She looks with widened eyes at the bands, looking over how each was engraved with different patterns, or looked distinctly different from the others.

“When did Ms. Zanka get them?” Tilting her head and putting her hands down again, she asks.

“She goes to random ahh places anytime she goes out, if she finds one she thinks I’ll like, she picks it up. I got her a couple, but she doesn't like to be heard when she talks, so she doesn't really wear them.”

She hums, face blank for a second, before she nods.

“Why? Does Amo want some?”

Amo’s head moves up and down excitedly, and Jabber almost laughs at her reaction. Propping his hand up on his hip, as well as taking a moment to think, he nods his head.

“If you ask Semiu, I’ll ask Zanka if we can go out to look for some? You did pretty damn good on that test, I'd say ya deserve somethin’!”

Her eyes widen, almost shining with how bright her smile is.

“Amo can call Ms. Semiu!”

He nods his head and makes a slight shooing motion. “Alright, go outside imma call my girl, we will regather in a sec, and then get ready.”

She nods her head and heads out of the room, already reaching for her collar by the time she closes the door behind herself.

“Yoooooooo,” He says as he leans back in his bed, hand on the collar, and throws his head back dramatically.

“What do ya want, Jabber? I get a single day away- I’m fuckin’ workin'! What on earth could you possibly need?”

He rolls his eyes, and based on the scoff on the other line, she knows exactly his reaction.

“Oh, please, you love me! Besides, why are ya so angryyyyy.”

“I heard your fuckin’ voice and had to practically sprint away from Enjin and the group because I can't trust you to not immediately start sayin’ things that would either make him disown me or want to and stop talking to you. You’re five conversations away from him beating your ass-”

He groans loudly, and the woman stops talking, and knowing her, is probably narrowing her eyes like she wants to murder him.

“Chilllllll, I just wanted to ask about taking Amo to town, she likes the bangles ya got me, and I'm thinkin’ of takin’ her to get some, wanted to let ya know I wasn’t gonna be back, probably by the time you're gonna get back.”

A pause is heard before the woman lets out a few chuckles.

“My gosh, for a second there I thought you, a nineteen-year-old man, was asking me for permission!”

Jabber, nineteen, with a kill-count almost double years lived, chuckles nervously and scratches at his neck absentmindedly, fidgeting with the discarded headphones that rest there. “Yeah, that would be so ridiculous! I mean, why would I as-”

“You initially were doing that.”

Very noticeably not a question as the woman interrupts him. “..Yeah.”

He hears a long, drawn-out breath that the woman lets out with another laugh.

“.. I love you, Zanki,”

A scoff comes from the other line, and he touches the collar gently, quietly listening with eyes calmed. “I love you too, even though you’re fuckin’ idiotic sometimes.”

Jabber's ears twitch for a moment as he fights, making a really shitty joke. “Ya can't tell me I'm the asshole for makin’ weird comments when you give me good openings.”

“Shut up, go take the damn kid out. Also, take the bag with you, there's some shit we need plus I'm sweatin’ like a damn pig out here.”

The line cuts off, and he shoots up. Jabber would never forget that, especially not when it's something super important, no, haha, why would you ask that!

He grabs the backpack, a large black thing he and Zanka put together as a requirement if they were gonna keep doing their ‘running away beating the shit out of each other and coming back bleeding and exhausted’. It had everything from snacks (which is what they’re running low on, curse Jabber and his black-hole stomach) to a very, very extensive first aid kit. Eishia can beg them to stay close to home, but she knows teens won't listen, so she made sure to train them. Regardless, they’d learned that it was helpful for more than their sessions alone, and on long walks where one may pass out from heatstroke, or just hanging out, and something unexpected happens, it's useful.

He mentally thanks Zanka for refilling the waters that were stored on both sides.

Opening the door, he sees Amo squatting on the ground, pushing around tiny pieces of paper that were on the floor.

“What did Ms. Semiu say?”

She looks up at him, clearly pleased at his return, and stands up, dusting off her dress.

“Oh, Amo asked if she could go out, she asked who, Amo said Mr. Jabber, she said yes, then,”

He nods, motioning his head to the door, making a we should go motion. He didn't really know why the woman seemed to trust him; it was probably what she saw whenever she looked at him.

“Ready?”

She smiles and starts to walk, Jabber moving along and going slightly in front of her.

Once they leave the building (Jabber tosses a smile at Semiu that she narrows her eyes at), Jabber digs through his pockets and fumbles for an MP3 player, before clicking a few buttons, and his headphones begin to emit loud, bassy noises that he's sure that if he were wearing them on his ears, Zanka would yell at him for.

The walk to Canvas town is quick, but the slight bobbing of Amo's head, along with Jabber's attempts to loudly mimic the instruments of the songs, seems to make it more tolerable.

About halfway through, they take a break, sitting down and talking as they pass a water bottle back and forth. Jabber hands Amo one of his hair ties, and after the rest of the trip is spent on an album both of them know (with both of them singing their lungs out and throats raw), it seems to hardly take any more time.

The weather's hot, causing a sheen on both of their skin and for them to sigh contentedly upon sitting down in a spot of shade, up against a building.

“Can Amo have water?”

They're both panting slightly, and he smiles, nodding as he puts the bag down between them, picking back up the black metal thing and passing it to her, the girl sighing as cool water slides down her throat. She finishes, gasping for air slightly and a ring of red around where the bottle was pressing against her face as she sets it on the ground, Jabber taking a few gulps as she begins to talk.

“Where are we going?”

The large metal clanks against the ground when he finishes, offering it to Amo for a moment before putting it back in the back-up on her decline.

“Was the only thing you wanted bangles?”

Amo nods, and Jabber looks around, tall, brick buildings lining the streets, a stream of people chatting amongst themselves as they walk around.

“Mm, well, for the Missus, we gotta get some shit to restock this baby,” He slaps the backpack, and Amo notices that it does look less full than normal. “I dunno, we could stop by a thrift shop? There's some places that have uber cute clothes for HELLA cheap, they ain't got as much jewelry, that's more a pawnshop for better shit.”

“Mr. Jabber knows this place well,” She says, more to just complement as well as offer an opportunity for speech.

“Oh yeah, I used to go here pretty frequently, far enough that Zanki and I wouldn't get caught back in the day, hm, got kidnapped here once, needless to say, my knowledge of here is,” He opens his hands, “Wonderful, expansive, because I'm amazing, obviously.”

Amo nods and looks up at the buildings, brick with colorful paint lining them.

A moment passes, and Jabber locks the pockets shut and picks something out of one of the side pockets, before tossing the backpack onto his back and standing, offering Amo a hand up as he uses the other to latch it over his chest.

“It’s pretty.”

Jabber nods at her statement, “If it gets crowded and you're worried you're gonna lose me, ya can grab- you're too short to grab the neck of my bag.” He furrows his brow for a moment, then takes the thing out of his pocket, a bracelet with a line of rope attached, a carabiner on the other end of the rope, clasping the carabiner on his belt loops. He starts talking again, while he puts the bracelet in his pocket, he says, “Ya can always grab that.”

Why the Amount of security? Simply, the Raiders don't like betrayal, and Jabber has the scars to prove they don’t take kindly to him leaving for the cleaners. Cthoni’s portal can find its way through the barrier. Is he worried about them taking Amo? Oh, no, he’s smart enough to know what actually happened the first time, and also has Mankira this time, and is willing and capable of killing and or maiming anyone who tries shit.

But this is a family trip, Wonger, calm yourself. Not everything has to end in death.

Well, this trip doesn't have to, at least.

“So, what does Amo wanna do first? Grocery shopping or bangles?

Jabber starts walking, Amo glancing at the rope for a moment before following behind him, her arms swaying slightly as she looks around herself.

“Foodstuffs first!”

“Brilliant, Amo, save the good shit for later,” He praises as he nods his head.

Looking at the traffic, his ears twitch slightly.

“Yo, Amo, make sure you stay behind me, alright? I don't want cha gettin’ lost r something, shop we gotta go to’s over there.” He points with his head to an intersection that shows a cut into the town, granting access to the rows of areas.

Amo nods, carefully grabbing the rope from his pocket carefully and holding onto it, to which Jabber nods his head and starts walking.

Jabber is a decent bit taller than Amo, but through the few months they’ve gotten to bond, the girl has learned how to keep up with the man's long strides (Although when he is less sober when he currently is [augh why does Zanka make him do this] it turns more into frolicking). This skill is especially useful in moments like this, where the lunch rush is beginning, and Jabber's is making a load of sharp turns through the people.

People of which are walking up to small stands that line the streets, Jabber briefly wonders if there's some event going on before he and Amo touch down at the entrance of the small store.

“Whoa!”

Regardless of how many times she enters stores like this one, flickering cool-tones, fluorescent lights, a cool atmosphere with rows of random trashy food, and the kinds of things you would need for a road trip, she's always amazed. She doesn't remember much from before Mister, and he wasn't fond of taking her out of her castle. (There was a time when she was about ten, Amo had gotten so sick her body shook with every cough. She was grateful when Mister took her to the doctor when the fits had stayed for a month, and gotten to the point her vision would fade and her brain would get fuzzy during them. Oh, she remembers how much she thanked him afterwards, when they met a really weird woman who gave her medicine. She didn't fight Mister for a while on anything after that.) So each time she saw things like this, it felt like the first time all over again.

Well, maybe not exactly like the first time, it was a little more overwhelming than, in a negative way. (Enjin chose a busy day to take her to an already normally busy place.)

“Aight, they aint as many people in here. You wanna help or explore?”

“Can Amo help Mr Jabber?”

He nods, stares into the void for a moment, mentally getting his list in order before looking over at Amo again.

“One, if there's something you want that isn't unreasonably expensive, ask, also, your mission,” He changes his voice and changes his posture to make it seem as if he’s delivering a grand quest, “Either electrolyte packets, or the fruit kind with vitamins. For colors, go with red and purple.”

Amo giggles for a second before stretching her face and bowing slightly.

“Amo will not disappoint!” She drops the rope and waddles away.

He nods his head and starts looking around the building, going up and down the short aisles before seeing a spot in front of the counter with some basic medical shit. Jabber used to not use basically anything but the fabric and random stuff he had all around. Which means that he didn't give a fuck about Band-Aids and ‘disinfecting the wound’ because what do you take him for? A pusillanimous? No, he could get over an infection on his own; it's ridiculous you even ask that.

Regardless, when he joined the cleaners, as previously mentioned, he learned a lot. Eishia may be shy, but she’s kind of like Zanka in the way that if you hit a topic she likes or knows a lot about, she will go into a mode where she gives you information you never thought you needed, then back to her shell she goes! So, with his newfound knowledge, and a girlfriend (wife by law, she doesn't like talking about that, though) who harasses him anytime he gets something as small as a papercut, he started using Band-Aids so much. He may be a genius, he may be constantly having five trains of thought, one of those focused on the environment at all times, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't give a shit about kitchen knives or running into things.

Needless to say, when he gets home after a long day of fighting trash beasts rather than making them, Zanka looks over at him, helping with past wounds and asking how many cuts he got today. He always says none. Zanka always counts more than that. The most she's found in one night was twenty-seven; apparently, he walked through brambles and forgot about it.

There isn't the most variety here (There's a shop a day's walk from home base, probably the nursing student’s dream with how much of everything they have. Sometimes he and Zanka are sent to pick up orders from them. He thinks Corrvus knows that two days spent walking for them is basically a day off for them, so it saves him from having to give days off when it's not necessary.) But it will work. Jabber walks back to the door and picks up a basket and wanders back to the section, grabbing one of each variety of Band-Aids, along with one of the shitty medical bags they had, figuring that should have everything else needed medical-wise.

Okay.. what else does he need? He looks around the store and sees Amo's head from over the aisles, and laughs a little at that before remembering that small snacks need a restock.

He always likes that freeze-dried shit, but Zanka doesn't like it, prefers it dehydrated, which also takes up less space, so she wins that battle, he thinks as he picks up a few packages of dried fruit. It’s good in vitamins, good nutritionally, win-win. Next thing! Nuts, they both like spicy shit, plus these have good fat and protein, so he picks up a family-sized package and figures that he will get smaller packages back at the house. Candies, the main thing at this store. The few times Jabber's fucked with molly, he learned about how much ya wanna grind your teeth, so a pack of sugar-free gum (also for mornings and days without teethbrushing), and sugar-free hard candy, some random package of fruity flavors. Blood sugar, that's important. He grabs coffee-caramel hard candies; he thinks Zanka likes that kind.

“Mr. Jabber! Amo is done looking!”

“Per-fect time! Show me your goodies!”

Amo smiles as she puts a pomegranate-flavored box of packets in, the kind Jabber remembers being good with vitamin-C and being from the same company that makes juice, and a box of grape electrolyte powder, and Jabber nods.

“Wonderful job, is there anything you want?”

“May Amo use one of the fruit candies when we leave?”

Walking up to the counter and putting the basket up, he nods his head and smiles at the cashier.

“Yo, box o rolling papers?”

The woman nods her head, walking to the back wall and picking up a small red box, lifting it slightly, “This good?”

He nods his head and flashes a smile that makes her sigh as she counts up the total for his items.

“Yo, Am’s very back pocket, hand me the bag.”

She leans down and opens the small pocket on the bag, taking out a leather drawstring bag and handing it to Jabber before closing it and backing up again.

The woman tells him the total cost, and he takes out the corresponding money, before taking his backpack off and opening the back pocket, a place that would have been used for something rectangular that, from the padding needed to be protected, but currently stores a freezer bag. Sure, they didn't buy anything that needed to be frozen, but Jabber's been building a mental list of places to take Amo. Handing Amo the bag, she picks up she's meant to put the stuff they've bought in it, and gets started. Zanka always hates going to town for more than two stops, but there are so many neat places that Jabber used to frequent. He’s grateful he might have a shopping buddy.

“Have a good day,” The woman says, voice monotone and face deadpan.

“Amo hopes you do too, pretty lady!” Amo’s all smiles as she puts the bag over her shoulder, Jabber getting his stuff back together as she does.

Jabber nods at the woman and leads Amo's way out.

“So, Amo, you feeling hungry?” He asks once they exit the building, in the shade, and looking at the buddy street once again.

“Amo could always eat!”

He laughs, and they walk along the street looking over them. He spots a hot dog stand.

“Feelin’ like some trashy food?” He looks over at her and points to the stand, and wonders how much onion he could get without having to pay an insane Amount.

“Hell yeah!”

Jabber's ears twitch, and he wonders what the- he doesn't care enough anymore. If the cleaners beat his ass because Amo picked up swear words, that's not his problem. Plus, if the time Amo insulted Enjin because she saw Zanka and Jabber talking (it was the first time Jabber and Amo had met), and looked at an insult she used and took it, all that happened to Zanka was laughter and an awkward conversation. And Amo doesn't have enough of an established parent figure for him to judge. (Amo was a kind of kid that when she walked into a room, adults sensed something about her and instantly went into parental mode. She has so many aunt and uncle figures, but only a few actual parent figures.)

They walk to the stand and stand in line for a few minutes before ordering. Amo gets a plain one, and Jabber spends a moment bartering with the woman for a full onion, which he is begrudgingly handed along with his loaded one.

They look around for a moment before Jabber notices there’s a set of chairs outside of one of the thrift shops and leads the girl over to them, sitting down in one and leaning back as she sits.

“Does Ms. Zanka normally get food when on a mission?”

“Normally, Enjin,” Amo makes a face of disgust at the name, “buys food for whoever is out with him, somethin somethin moral somethin somethin it comes with the job.”

“It’s good that Ms. Zanka eats. Amo heard some mean things about her earlier and got worried,”

“What?” Jabber's ears twitch as he looks up at her.

Amo's eyebrows furrow before she raises a hand in surrender.

“Mr. Enjin likes to tell her how Ms. Zanka should eat, he said something about her being thin, but in a weird tone that Amo doesn’t like.” Once she finishes talking, she hears a groan from Jabber.

“Yeah, he’s an asshat like that, talkin’ bout some she needs meat on her bones when she could lift me and carry me on a shoulder. I think he’s just insane, huh, Amo?”

Amo nods, and her eyes wander to the ground in the way they do when she's trying to remember something.

“Mhm! Ms. Zanka is really strong! Once, Amo got really tired on a mission, one where Mr. Jabber was at home, and Ms. Zanka carried her back.”

Jabber's eyes partially close because, one, why didn't Zanka tell him about that, because that's fucking adorable. He needs to beat her up when he gets home.

“Hey, Amo, do you like, ever use 'Mrs' on people?”

“Amo calls people Ms all the time!”

Rolling his eyes, he chuckles.

“No, like, the other version.”

“There's another version of it?”

He nods his head. “Yeah, it's like when a girl gets married.”

“What's it called when a guy gets married?”

He pauses for a second. “I dunno.”

“That's weird.”

She looks up at him, and he nods.

His eyes are blank, and slowly a smirk falls onto his face.

“Amo, what time is it?”

“Noon,”

He cackles and puts his backpack down, leaning back more.

He reaches for his collar.

“Yo, Zankita, why do girls get called-”

“Shut up! What the fuck do you need!”

Sighing, he puts on his best rendition of puppy-dog eyes.

“You're so mean to me, again. Well, me and Am’s were talking, and what do guys get called when they get married, like Mrs is to the Ms as what is to the Mr?”

He can almost sense the little motion of her moving her head back in confused surprise.

“There isn't one, Mrs., like, used to be a status symbol that women got when they got married.”

“That sounds like they got status from being married?” Amo says, and Zanka sighs, she was beating trash beasts' ass five minutes ago, now she’s in a restaurant giving a history lesson to his partner and Amo.

“Because it was like that.”

“Amo thinks that's stupid.”

That gets a laugh from her, which makes Jabber smile.

Jabber leans over and pets her head as he talks. “It is stupid. Good job, Amo.”

“Is that all you needed? To waste my time? Oh, I say to Jabber, not Amo.”

Amo nods her head and takes another bite of her food.

“No, since you dread me so much, I’ll leave you alone.” Jabber shakes his head dramatically, a fake look of melancholy over his face.

Zanka scoffs, “Don’t die, either of ya.” And the line cuts.

Jabber wiggles his body and puts on an announcer voice, smiling at Amo.

“Now, back to our regular programming!”

Amo giggles, and they spend the next few minutes eating the rest of their food. Pulling out a plastic bag from the backpack, he puts their garbage in it and, while tying the bag to the backpack, he’s donned again as they enter the building.

“Jabber, good morning! Who’s this little en?” The clerk asks a woman with darker skin and a wide, toothy smile. Bright makeup and chunky jewelry that makes her jingle with every movement.

“Gemmy, long time no see! This is Amo,” He turns to look at her, “Wanna say hi?”

Amo nods her head and smiles. “Hi Ms. Gemmy!”

“Hi, baby, go on, find you somethin’ nice, we got some lil earrings at the back rack ya can have, free o charge. I wanna talk to your daddy for a minute.”

Amo looks to Jabber, of whom is mentally glitching slightly but gives her a thumbs up, and she walks to the back.

It's a nice store, really. The small building is busy with racks carrying clothes of all different kinds. Towards the back, the building expands, to where she notices the aforementioned rack, as well as higher horizontally placed poles supporting long dresses, and a smaller storage with shoes underneath. And on the opposing wall, changing rooms, maroon curtains moving slightly in the wind that the fans are producing. She smiles as she skips over to the rack, looking over the necklaces hanging. There may not be many of them, but the ones she does have are awfully pretty, being different colors and styles.

A hum escapes her as she starts to walk up to the rack, a table underneath it with boxes of assorted randomness, and the sound of trumpets and drums catches her attention, smooth vocals and catchy beat coming from speakers placed in the shop.

The set of earrings catches her eye, small screw-ons, a bright orange, clear stone set inside, brassy wire in tangles over it. Amo smiles and hears Jabber walking up, and turns around.

“Hiya, Mr. Jabber! Look at the pretties,”

“She always knows the good shit, hah, i as thinking about you picking out something for me and me finding something that you'd like. What's Amo think?”

Amo nods her head, a smile on her face. They separate, but the shops are small enough that they don’t have to yell to hear each other.

Ms. Gemima’s shop was full of.. Well, everything clothing-wise. Mostly, though, it was clothes donated, and the clothes that didn't go to the shelf take up space in the upper level of her shop, in which she lived, and are customized with the scraps and accessories she's saved.

“Have you ever wanted to pierce your ears?” Jabber asks as he looks through the jackets, glancing up at Amo.

She thinks for a moment and shakes her head. “Ever since Mister had Amo get her other piercings, she only wanted what she thought was necece- needed.” She fumbles over as she tries and pronounces a larger word, which draws a chuckle from Jabber.

“Aight, well if you ever wanna, while back me n Zanki picked up some shit for it, all that serial needles n numbing stuff. Don’t sneak out or somethin’ or get m done with a gun, that fucks ya up.”

Amo hums, eyebrows furrowing while her hands absentmindedly feel the texture of a shirt. “Does Mr. Jabber have piercings?”

She doesn't remember seeing any on him, but she's always been told she has a terrible memory, so she decides to ask.

“Used to have plenty, Zoydl ripped 'em outta my damn face.”

Her eyes widen, and she nods. She doesn’t like this Zoydl guy; the only stories she’s heard of him are about him being mean to her friends.

They stay quiet for a while, except for Jabber humming along to the music and tapping his foot as he looks along it. Her eyes land on a pair of pants, and she smiles.

“Mr. Jabber! I found somethin’!”

“Perfect timing, I have a proposal to make.”

They walk over to the more open area, by the changing rooms, and Jabber holds up a light pink blazer, with little embroidered flowers and leaves sewn onto it in various places.

“Imagine, you have a skirt of a similar color, right? SO, this, with that skirt, but you have the little cream dress shirt, you know, the one where the collar looks like flowers?”

Amo nods her head and pulls out the pants. They look to be patchwork, occasionally a pair of black jeans that have squares cut out around of fishnet, that have splashes of paint, and widen around the knees, partially the black jean fabric and partially scrap fabric with the base being black and prints of roses and skulls over it.

“Does Mr. Jabber like it?” She tilts her head slightly, and he smiles excitedly.

“Ooooo girl! With my black boots, n stealin one of Zankis tank tops?” He throws his head back, “Yeow! Baby, ya did great!”

Amo beams at that; she, like Zanka, has always been fond of praise. Amo’s feelings about it may be more normal than Zanka’s, though. (Although when you think about it, they had similar circumstances. Obviously, Amo’s was worse, but they both had the neglect, plus if you don't follow instructions, then severe punishment was in store, providing a wonderful environment for wanting to be good.)

“Ready to head on out?” Jabber asks as he walks towards the front of the store, and Amo nods her head.

“Thank you, Ms. Gemmy!”

Jabber places the items on the counter, and the woman narrows her eyes.

Jabber groans and looks at her with a grin. “What’d I miss?”

Acting as if she's grading the boy's essay, she tugs the red scarf off of her head, dark brown hair in the process of whitening, poofs out dramatically, “Well, for the littlns outfit,” She stretches the fabric as if it's made out of elastic, and it shoots through the air, before abruptly stopping and dropping on top of a rack. The woman stands, her hip popping in a way that makes her stand still for a moment before walking over, “In orda to pull it all togetha now,” she picks up the cloth and puts it in her pocket, and lifts up the article it was sitting on, a vest that seems to be made out of the same fabric as the blazer, less frequent but still present designs on it. “You oughta have this over yer dress shirt,” She places it with their order, “Now ya might be saying, ma, that's too much pink, of which, ya have no faith, because with white tights and a pair of black shoes it’ll look fan-tastic.”

“Amo, do you want it?” Jabber looks over to her, and she looks at him with an expression he doesn't know how to place.

“If that would be alright with Mr. Jabber?”

“Doll, don't worry about him; if he too broke for it, I don’t mind.” Her eyes look around Amo, she puts a hand close to her hair, and Amo nods, granting permission, and the woman touches it carefully.

“Jabba, go upstairs, on tha dressa there's a box, look for the little set of stockings with tha orange ribbons ‘round tha top of em.”

Jabber looks at Amo, and Amo nods her head, and he takes an exaggerated sigh and walks over to the back, opening a closet that had apparently been hidden, the way to get up, and exiting the room.

“It may seem weird, I know, the orange in the mix a pink n white, but, based on how long your skirt is now, it'll only be visible when ya lift it, give a little pop on tha basic white, plus, help with the black of tha shoes to match your hair.” She says, while seemingly absent-mindedly petting Amo's hair, looking over it with a grin.

“How ar ya feeling, darling?” Her accent makes the name sound odd, similar to Zanka's, but with a twist she isn't sure she’s heard before.

Amo nods her head, “Amo’s doing alright! She thinks your shop is pretty, and you remind her of Ms. August!”

The woman chuckles and looks at her, “Ah, a cleaner.”

Jabber walks back into the room and brings her the socks, and the woman tosses the fabric again, and she points for Jabber to pick it up, which he groans dramatically again and grabs the cloth as well as the shirt underneath it. He burst out laughing and showed the front, a top that would be skin-tight and cropped on him, with white text over the chest that says ‘BAD PERSON’.

“Damn, and here I thought you’d forgotten me,” He says, tears in his eyes from the laughter as he places it on the table, pulling out his coins again.

“Never forget a piece o trash beast-bait like yourself, ya know the drill, half-off.”

He rolls his eyes and places the corresponding money on the table. Grabbing the clothes with careful hands, he puts them in Amo’s bag, which makes the woman narrow her eyes but ignore it.

“I don’t get a thank-you?” She asks with a fake mad expression.

“Augh, thank you, Gemmy,” He starts to walk out of the shop, and the woman shouts out of the door.

“And wear protection, don't want ya knocking up yo little girlfriend again!” She says in a tone that he can tell she's just trying to embarrass him, a smile clear in her voice.

With a confused expression, Amo looks up at Jabber.

“Amo thought Ms. Zanka-”

“Nah, I’m the one who carried, you know Zanki wouldn't handle havin’ to take 9 months offa training!” He fights a laugh as he stands still outside of the shop door.

He hears the woman fail at her attempt, as she cackles like an old witch and then sighs contentedly. “You right, that doesn't stop my point though!” Her voice increases in volume as she hears them walk away.

Jabber takes a long breath out, a grin on his face.

“Amo thought Ms. Zanka couldn't have babies because she,” Amo digs through her memories of when she asked Eishia why Zanka couldn't be a mama, “Has the wrong chromosomes.”

Walking to the next place on Jabber's mental list, he takes a sharper intake of breath. “Eh, why would we ever need kids when we have you little shit?” He asks with an amused huff as he ruffles her hair.

Amo giggles and nods, looking at the drawings on the buildings around them as Jabber opens a door for her to walk into.

“Welcome to da book store,” Jabber says dramatically as he follows behind her. Walls of shelves of books line the walls, a scent of old books and something worse enters their noses.

He hums and looks over at her.

“Can Amo look around by herself?” She asks, looking up at him with what he assumes are her attempt at puppy-dog eyes, which makes him laugh amusedly.

“Yeah, be careful though, there's stuff for ike, all people in here. If ya don't like somethin put it down okay?” Amo nods her head, and he pats her shoulder and separates from her, immediately walking over to the clearance novels and squatting down next to them carefully.

Zanka read a lot. When she was a kid only textbooks, but occasionally, she would get her hands on a novel. She never got why it was so important to her, in hindsight, probably because she was using it as like an escape from her life. The Hellguard, her family's need for her to be someone she's not. Because of her upbringing and now how her brain works, she's the type that on her day off can get through a few novels, and it kind of became something she automatically went to when she and Jabber both had the day off. They would be in Jabber's room, his foldable table and chair set up, and his back against the closet while he worked on whatever experiment he had that day. Zanka lay back on his bed, occasionally updating him on the antics of the characters.

It was nice, but the woman hardly ever had books she thought worthy of rereading, so here Jabber is, looking through these. She likes ones that make her think, and tolerates anything that isn't either cringy (outdated slang and references, no one's tying their hair in a messy bun anymore, author) or that isn't just edgy for edgys' sake. Jabber once got her two books, but he didn't know if she’d like them. One was a murder mystery (? the plot was so convoluted and it was so gory for the sake of shock value, then an actual reason), and the other was a book that looked cringy on the outside and was about extremely fucked up things, that she liked and finished, said it wasn't the best written but the characters in it had more dimension then the other. Talking about how the characters truly thought what they had done was the right thing, and making them more human than just words on a page.

Regardless, he sees a book with a black cover and a title that doesn't make sense, along with a smaller paperback with weird illustrations on the front and a white cover. Standing back up, he groans and walks over to the miscellaneous clearance section, and spots a psychology textbook.

He doesn't have a particular need for it, especially given that everything he needs regarding the topic is covered in his biology books, regardless he picks it up. Maybe Amo will want to learn it later, or Zanka will take an interest in it.

He looks around the store; the aisles here are too tall for him to see Amo this time, so he starts walking around.

His eyes catch onto her white uniform and see her in the romance section, and he sees that she's in the J section. Eyes widening slightly, he coughs a laugh.

“Yo, Amo!”

“Mr. Jabber! Amo wanted to ask you to help her. Amo doesn't think these are what she wants.”

Jabber nods his head, and they walk to the children's section. He crouches, setting the books down, and pats his thigh, motioning for Amo to crouch next to him.

“Alright, I think something basic would be good for now.” He looks over it, seeing a book titled ‘Best Loved Books for Young Readers.’

Picking it up and flipping through it, it's mostly words with occasional pictures, and he hands it to Amo.

“Something you’d be interested in? S’ got a whole buncha stories in it,”

Amo nods her head and smiles up at him, “Thank you, Mr. Jabber.”

He looks a few shelves down (the store is mostly for adult-centered books, the children's section being quite small) and flips through a more picture-oriented book. Feeling like he remembers it from somewhere, he flips through it. The main princess rules her kingdom with an iron fist, he remembers, and he hands it to Amo, figuring it's a good influence.

“Somethin’ for when you’re tired of trynna read big words?”

Amo giggles at that, and her hair flops. Jabber wonders if she ever feels dizzy from how much she nods.

“Is there anything you wanna look at here?”

“Amo thinks she should wait and try what Mr. Jabber is giving her before asking for more.”

He chews on the inside of his mouth and furrows his eyebrows before taking a breath and picking the books back up. Standing, he motions for her to walk with him, and they check out swiftly, the man being a very diligent man.

“Bangels next, then dinner?” Jabber asks as Amo slides the books into her bag, walking out of the store.

“Then, home and Amo gets to sleep?” Amo looks up at him with her eyebrows raised, a sort of half-pleading motion.

He chuckles as they enter the next building, giving a kind wave to the person at the front and heading for the back.

“Yeah, Am’s, we can pack it up after that. Ya don't have to come back for more shopping trips, by the way,” He says as he walks up to a table with an assortment of bracelets. “Zanki hates shopping, I get it if you do too.”

“Amo loves shopping with Mr. Jabber!” She's handed a bangle, all over engraved with flowers, the color brassy, and the size looking like it would fit her well. “Amo is just tired; she had a job yesterday, and Rudo wanted to hang out last night.”

He hums.

“Aight, just don't let me sway ya, alright? Ya never gotta do shit you ain't wanna, and if anyone, even a person ya like, tries to make ya slap the shit outta em.”

That draws a giggle out of Amo as she tries to put it on and fails. Taking her hand in his, he presses her thumb to be against her hand and slides it onto her hand.

“Whad ya think?” He says after he takes a step away.

“Amo thinks she's pretty!” A smile covers her face as she holds her arm out, looking at the metal with shining eyes.

He huffs a laugh as he picks up the other, “They got a second for yer other hand,”

“Amo thought they mismatched?”

“For me, I give someone else my other. Well, a while back my mama gave me one of hers, and when she died I got the other’n back. Gave Zanki the matching ones. I like the look of em mismatched, but alla ta people prefer having it the same on both sides.”

Amo looks down at the table, and Jabber can see the cogs turning in her head.

“Does Mr. Jabber want the other?”

What god did he please to get Amo? He takes a breath in and smiles.

“If that's what Amo wants, but Amo can keep both of them once we buy em.”

“Amo wants to match with Mr. Jabber!”

Looking over at the table again, he motions.

“Alright, then you pick one, make us even out.”

Amo spends a few moments bent to look closer at them, and eventually picks up a set, a much more silver kind that has thin, neatly placed lines to make a band of them all around the piece of metal.

“Does Mr. Jabber like it? Amo thinks it’s pretty.”

“Aight, let’s blow this popsicle stand.” He motions for Amo to give him the other bangle, of which she does, and they walk to the front.

Setting the bangles down on the counter, Jabber starts some basic small talk while the guy starts writing out some stuff he can't see on a paper, and Amo catches his eye. Looking down at a small cooler, drinks are priced extremely low with a two-for-one sale sign over it.

Humming, he looks in it and sees a fairly good brand of strawberry soda. Motioning for Amo to open it, she complies.

“Grab four, put ‘em on the counter here.”

“Okie!”

Jabber smiles and pays for their jewelry and drinks. Walking out, they see that the sun has begun to set.

Not very far down on the horizon, where he can tell they still have time before it gets dark, but he still figures they should hurry. Looking around, he sees the streets starting to get busy once again. Ah, dinner rush.

“Amo’s hungry again.” She says, very simply.

He dons a grin and looks over at her.

Several minutes later, they sit about halfway from home in the middle of nowhere. The sky’s painted with deeper oranges and a touch of pink.

Amo sits on the ground, nibbling on her kebab while Jabber gnaws on the stick, having practically inhaled his food. He picks up one of the drinks, still cool, and takes a sip.

“I’d say it's been a decent day.”

Amo gasps, “Mr. Jabber! It's been amazing! Amo's had a lot of fun.”

He sighs and shakes his head dramatically, “It’s ok, Amo, you don't have to try and make me feel better, I know you-”

“Mr. Jabber.” Her voice is surprisingly stern, and he looks over at her. “Don't be mean to yourself. It makes Amo sad.”

He laughs, which is probably the wrong thing to do.

“Amo, I’m not really upset. I'm glad you had a good time.”

Amo pouts but goes back to eating her food, and how is she meant to keep being angry when it's seasoned so well?

They walk.

The sun ends up beating them home, as they're still walking minutes later, and the darkness has consumed the place. Laughter and giggles fill the air as they talk. Not about anything important. Sometimes it feels necessary to talk about big things, but it feels good to spout nonsense.

“It’s weird that Mr. Jabber has a nickname for Amo, but Amo doesn't have a nickname for Mr. Jabber.” Amo starts talking out of nowhere, making the man tear his eyes from the sky back to her.

“Wass dat? Oh, you can call me whatever you wanna.”

He hears her make that adorable little not pleased face, the little hmpf noise leaving her.

“Amo knows Mr. Jabber has a nickname for Ms. Zanka and Ms. Eishia and Mr. Enjin and Ms. August.”

“Do you feel left out?” He says with an amused tone.

She stays quiet, and he takes that as an answer, sighing before talking again.

“What did ya have in mind?”

“The lady in the shop called you my dad, but Amo doesn’t think she has a dad.”

“You can have as many as ya want, literally. I think any of the cleaners would adopt you in a millisecond if you asked.”

“Amo likes Mr. Jabber more, though.”

Jabber feels his heart stop in his chest for a moment. Ok, Zanka may have trained him well to be around the cleaners, regarding his normal humor and how he talks. Hell, Zanka even got him to talk about his feelings! But how is he supposed to go about this? This wasn't in the detailed hours-long discussion he was subjected to by her about how to be around Amo.

“Is this your way of askin' me to like-”

“No. Maybe? Amo doesn't know. Amo doesn't know much of anything, but Amo is scared Mr. Jabber is gonna yell at her because he doesn't want her.”

His heart twists in his chest as his feet move on their own, still going towards the cleaners' base automatically.

“My offa still stands. Ya can call me whateva you feel comfortable with.”

When he finishes, she's quiet again, displeased.

“You can still ask about names?”

“Amo doesn't know! Amo wants to have something, but the normal names don't feel right. Amo doesn't think Mr. Jabber sounds like a Dad.”

He doesn't know how to take that, but nods.

“What about somethin’ offa my name? I call ya Am’s, ya could take something from me?”

They walk for a few minutes in silence, and he lets Amo think because what else is he meant to do? What is he meant to do overall here? He isn't gonna tell her no. He isn't uncomfortable with the idea.

“Beebee?” Amo says, her voice quiet.

He pauses, “I like the sounda that”

The better half of an hour later, he's made sure Amo’s back in her room, and by now she's fast asleep as he walks into Zanka's room.

“So, uh. Whatdo ya think about having a kid?” He sets the bags (one he had taken from Amo, promising to give her her things in the morning) down on the ground as he closes the door behind him.

Zanka looks up from her bed, eyes narrowed. “Jabber-”

He walks over to her and shrugs, cutting her off- “Listen, it wasn't my fault-!”

“Jabber, what the fuck did you do?” She starts to stand, but Jabber motions for her to stay.

He sits on the bed next to her, ignoring the look like she wants to murder him, and raises his hands in surrender.

“Did you find some fucking super-estrogen that somehow fucking got you pregnant- did you find a fucking infant- Jabber, we cant care for a baby, Jabber you cant drink enough water in a day if im not constantly reminding you, two weeks ago if i wasnt torn from my station i refused to stop working and even now i feel like fucking shit taking breaks, what would my family think? Where would we get the spa-”

“Zanka. As much as I love to watch you flip the fuck out, it’s Amo.”

She narrows her eyes at him and backs up slightly.

“What?” She asks, tone incredulous.

“I don't know, I don't even like know if that was her wanting that or not, she went on some talk about like wanting a name to call me, then about her not having a dad,”

“She could have any dad that she wanted. The cleaners love her?”

“That's what I said!” He throws his hands up.

He takes a breath out.

“But when I told her that, she said that she preferred me. And in the past, she's talked about how strong you are, about how you would be a good mama, and like. Zanka. She called me Beebee. That's such a dumb fucking nickname, but she said it in such a cute way I wanted to murder everyone who’s ever hurt her!”

Zanka draws her legs up to her chest, and Jabber recognizes his fluffy pajama pants, and the woman pets the soft fabric.

“I mean, I don't think it would change much. Y’all already have breakfast and dress-up on the days you wake up first, we help her with school, we may be- absolute shit at it, but we help her with some of her mental stuff, you threatened Rudo so..”

“Effectively,”

“Effectively, that he hid in his room for the rest of the day after you found out that they were, like, trying to date. I think it just changes the name.”

“Zamn.”

She pauses and looks up at him.

“We’re talkin’ bout important shit, and you just said fucking zamn?”