THE FOLLOWING TEXT CONTAINS: SWEARING, DRINKING, CRIMES, MURDER. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED (18+)
BITE OR BARK
42. INT. JD’S APARTMENT — WEEKS LATER
SFX: ZZT ZZT
A text from FRANKIE pops up on the cracked screen of JD’s personal comm sitting on their bedside table.
FRANKIE: [heyy… been a while. we should meet up for drinks maybe?]
There’s a little shift of perspective, from the comm to JD laying in bed next to it, staring out into the middle distance with their face pressed into their pillow.
Looking absolutely awful.
There are dark circles under their eyes, their hair is a bedraggled mess. They shut their eyes trying to ignore everything. They haven’t spoken to FRANKIE in weeks because, well… They meant to. But they just didn’t know what to say… Or how to say it. Or, even, when to say it.
But they need to break it off…and just thinking about it opens up a black hole that sucks the breath out of their lungs. It brings them right back to the pipeworks reaching up by the billboard. Hours turned into days turned into weeks. It’s starting to get too awkward to figure out what to fill this void with.
SFX: ZZT ZZT
They reach to check their phone, lifting it slowly up from their bedside table, notice it’s FRANKIE and sink their face back into the pillow, setting the phone back down. JD heaves a miserable sigh.
CUT: As JD gets up to do their waking routine, these texts follow them in their periphery, haunting them like ghosts. Taunting and hovering and waiting.
FRANKIE: [you busy?] [been a while] [be nice to see ya]
Each new message is added to the cluster forming around them as they brush their teeth, eat their bland grey meal, dress in one of the grey jumpsuits laying around, pull up their work comm.
FRANKIE: [if its something i said] [haha]
They tug out their e-cig they only to find it pod-less. They sigh. Fuck it. The fruity shit wouldn’t make them feel better anyway.
FRANKIE: [wow they gotta be really runnin you ragged]
JD pulls on a jacket, shapeshifts into their lashunta-look and heads out, the swarm of unanswered texts following them as they do.
CUT TO: THE CORNER SHOP.
JD pushes open the rickety door to the jingling chime and a tired grunt from the OWNER behind the plastic sheet barely protecting them from vandals and robbers. JD just nods to them, as they approach the counter. The bantrid behind it shimmies back and forth.
OWNER
What do you need?
JD
Get me uh… Sharpshooterz.
The OWNER plucks a pack of cigarettes off the shelf with their tentacle and tosses it on the counter. JD plugs their cred stick into the dock.
JD
Thanks.
They grab the pack, tug one of the smokes free and step out, leaving a jingling in their wake. FRANKIE’s texts lingering behind them get caught behind the door as they light their smoke and take a long drag.
SFX: ZZT ZZT
Ugh.
JD tugs their work comm out of their pocket and pulls up a message from FOXTROT.
FOXTROT: [need a clean, the pint, u close?]
Well, work’s better than wondering. They’ll message FRANKIE later tonight…right after. Swear on it.
JD: [yea]
43. EXT. THE PINT’S BACK ALLEY — EVENING
JD’s still wearing their lashunta look, they tug another smoke from the breast pocket of their jumpsuit. They take a long drag, pulling several centimetres off it before they exhale.
Behind them, inside the PINT a deal goes sour, if you listen carefully there’s the muffled sound of laser fire, maybe a louder sound of more laser fire from a gun that doesn’t have a silencing chip. Hm. Whatever this was…didn’t go well at all.
JD smokes the rest of their cigarette waiting for the scuffle to go silent, for the dust to settle, for the goons on their side to make their escape and then they step inside and clean up the mess.
They hope IZ is cool with them picking up a couple cleaning gigs in between the hits. They’re back on top but only barely after they fucked around last time…
And she’s been pretty lax on anything new since. JD’s starting to get worried that maybe FOXTROT or TANGO spilled the beans about FRANKIE. They were kind of hoping this would stay on the down-low and they could bury it so IZ would never find out.
Maybe after this they ought to tell her themself…
…hm, sounds like suicide…
…maybe not.
44.EXT. AFTER THE GIG — EVENING
JD’s jumpsuit is a bigger mess than it usually is and boy is that smell of burnt crispy laser fire sure baked into the fibres of this thing. They might have to toss it when they get home just to spare themself the trouble of scrubbing it all out. They’ll take blood any day, it’s much easier to clean.
Unfortunately this gig had a whole lot of both so there wasn’t really an and/or scenario. They’re just lucky their jumpsuit’s dark enough the bloodstains only read if you get up real close.
Whatever. It’s not like this night can get any worse–
FRANKIE [OS]
Joan?
Shit. Without thinking JD looks over their shoulder, kicking themself hard right after. If they had just kept walking she would have been none the wiser.
But now they’ve reacted and they’ve caught FRANKIE’s eye, even as she steps out of a low-key pool bar.
JD
F-Frankie–hey.
Their stomach drops to their feet but their heart leaps seeing her. She approaches them and her face twists and oh hm, yeah that’s a more appropriate response than their own, considering. FRANKIE shoves them into an alley.
FRANKIE
What the hell gives? You make big sweeping statements about whisking me away and leaving the fuckin’ station and that’s it? I don’t get a say in it before you go radio silent?
JD
Okay–yeah I know–sorry it just got real busy.
FRANKIE
(incredulous)
I’ve been texting you for weeks! You didn’t have a second? Don’t fuck with me like that.
JD blanks on an excuse as FRANKIE’s glare up at them wavers, her ears bent back.
FRANKIE
(disappointed)
If that was such a dealbreaker to you and ya didn’t want to see me again you just had to say so. I can take it.
She drops her gaze and JD can feel the black hole opening up in the wall behind them, they hate that they reach for the security line that might pull them out of it.
JD
No… Frankie.
They sigh.
FRANKIE
Then what? It better be some real good excuse.
JD
This is starting to mess with my job.
FRANKIE
C’mon, JD.
Okay time to rip the bandage off, one quick blow.
JD
(serious)
Frankie, I just can’t see you anymore.
They tried to pull it off serious but their voice wavers and she’s hanging on every reaction from them.
FRANKIE
I don’t believe you.
JD
Please don’t make this–look. I just can’t. It’s getting too close–
FRANKIE
As if you can’t lie circles around everyone–
JD
Not anymore, no. I can’t. This is–it’s gotten too big I…I’m hangin’ on by a thread, here.
FRANKIE eyes them, expression guarded, wary before something seems to hit her.
FRANKIE
Ah. Ya figured out who my pops is.
JD hesitates, great… Her dad? He’s the one who must be pretty high up in the ranks, that fancy place of her’s would make sense. They play into it, because they honestly can’t let her know they’ve actually been working for her mother the whole time. They hesitate too long anyway, trying to think of what to say.
FRANKIE
(softer)
C’mon. It’s not that bad, look, I know pops is like top dog Barkfang but it’s not like I can let him control my life.
Okay they already knew she was BARKFANG…wait top dog? She can’t possibly mean she’s BOZ BARKFANG’s daughter. JD is glad the wall is at their back because they use it to keep themself propped up as they swallow that information and try not to let go of the lifeline splitting itself into threads.
Say something.
JD
Y-yeah… Boz…?
FRANKIE reaches up to take their face and they let her, the panic must be more evident on their features because she’s trying to cover her nerves with a mask of her own.
FRANKIE
(teases)
C’mon, stranger. I thought you were made of tougher stuff than that.
JD’s mind is busy launching themself into one of those garbage chutes.
All they can see is that lifeline in her eyes.
They don’t think, they just do, pushing forward as they grab her face to kiss her.
It lasts only a second, JD’s backed away before anyone can even see them do it. FRANKIE stares at them, in just as much shock as they are.
JD
Sorry–No, I shouldn’t have done that–
But then FRANKIE grabs them and kisses them again.
45. INT. FRANKIE’S PLACE — NIGHT
All along the floor, pieces of clothing are left behind, a trail of discarded garments hanging on sofas and countertops.
Leading up to the bedroom. In bed, among FRANKIE’s fluffy duvet is a lump where we can assume JD might be. Their phone buzzes somewhere.
SFX [DISTANT]: ZZT ZZT.
JD reaches for their phone but it isn’t on the nightstand… It’s far enough out of reach JD lifts their head from the blankets, an absolutely confused, befuddled mess. They squint in a way that suggests they sure haven’t slept very well, or maybe they’ve slept too well.
They look to the nightstand but it isn’t their nightstand and that seems to surprise them until they remember what happened last night… Fuck.
They can chastise themself later.
They slip out of bed, peering over to the rest of the enormous duvet and assuming that maybe there’s enough of a shape in here to suggest that FRANKIE is still in there somewhere.
Anyway, they slip out, gathering their clothes and checking their phone. Fuck. It’s the work phone. It’s a text from FOXTROT.
FOXTROT: [STINGER’S. 6th Pipe. 21:45]
Another text comes in as they’re processing this one: [just another clean yeah?]
JD grits their teeth miserably. They’ve got time, only barely.
They glance over at the bed with a frown but gather their things, dressing quickly regardless.
It isn’t until they sneak out of the bedroom that they find FRANKIE leaning against her bar, flipping through a magazine. Without looking up, she speaks.
FRANKIE
Mornin’ sleepyhead. Geeze I was just about to check if you were… Dead…
She looks up and finds them dressed again in the disastrous jumpsuit from the night before, smile fading.
FRANKIE
You uh, leaving already?
JD
Uh–yeah. Yeah. Work call. I gotta get going.
FRANKIE watches them, thoughtfully, worriedly. In fairness, the last time they saw each other she didn’t hear from them for weeks right after.
FRANKIE
Can’t stay? Even for a bit? Like half an hour or something?
JD approaches the bar and leans against it, quietly, choosing their words, trying to pick the right ones but they’re all wrong.
JD
I’m sorry, Frankie. I made a mis–
FRANKIE
Don’t–just… Just wait–listen. We can make this work, y’know. You’re just jumping to a bad conclusion but what if it works? Huh? Nobody even knows what you look like.
JD is quiet, looking down at the countertop, tracing the patterns in the granite, black marble. Whatever stone it might be. They frown.
JD
Yeah, and what happens when he does?
FRANKIE
Who cares. I should be allowed to pick whoever I want to be datin’ that’s none of my pop’s business.
JD
What happens to me, if he finds out I’m not on his side?
FRANKIE holds their gaze and hesitates, she reaches for their hand and they let her take it.
FRANKIE
He does anything to ya, I’ll kick his ass myself.
JD sighs but it’s a little amused, small smile teasing at their lips because that’s quite possibly the most FRANKIE answer she could have given them. She squeezes their hand, her voice now more serious.
FRANKIE
Just… Can ya just try. Try it with me? Until we can figure out what we wanna to do with this?
JD hesitates and they know they’re done for when they look at her but they do it anyway.
46. EXT. ON THE WAY TO A GIG — EVENING
It’s been an incredibly busy few months. JD has spent all of their time squeezing both clean-ups for FOXTROT–who refuses to find anyone else to do them–and the occasional, take out IZ requests of them. Those are few and far between but they sure pay out well enough they don’t technically have to pick up the cleaning gigs.
But the cleaning gigs keep them out of trouble and distance some of their time with FRANKIE…who they can’t seem to control themself around. JD squeezes time with her in between work. They absolutely refuse to think too hard about the fact that she’s not only a BARKFANG but also a BITECLAW and, well, IZOLA doesn’t seem to have found out about anything yet.
Which…is probably the real reason why they can’t refuse FOXTROT’s requests for a clean up. They haven’t told her they’re still seeing FRANKIE but, it somehow still feels like she knows, regardless.
CUT TO: ON THE WAY TO A SMOKEHOUSE GIG ACROSS PIPETOWN
JD stands wearing their gnoll-face in a crowded tram. They look exhausted as they open up their comm, there are dozens of unanswered messages from M that they swipe away as they reach for FRANKIE’s number. They’ve got an hour to squeeze in for her, they text her:
[otr catch u by jak’s? 5 min]
They hit send, wait, and immediately catch FRANKIE’s typing bubble pop up. Their lips crack a small smile when she sends a little wink and a heart. JD tucks the phone back in their pocket and leans against the hand post, waiting for their stop.
47. EXT. THE ALLEY BESIDE JAKOBIE’S — 5 MINUTES LATER
JD knows better than to actually step inside JAKOBIE’s after IZOLA’s request not to. They step around the next bend at a meet-spot they’ve used with FRANKIE before. It’s quiet. They’ve got a second to light a smoke. It’s an old-fashioned. They’ve stopped using their e-cig when it stopped doing its job easing their nerves.
Plus they kept forgetting to pack pods, which left them stranded more than once. This time though, it’s their lighter that struggles to ignite. They flick it a couple times until a voice emerges from a darker part of the alley.
???
Need a light?
JD jolts, they didn’t even see the guy back there in the shadows. JD tries not to feel jittery about it, but the surprise sets their nerves on edge.
It really doesn’t take much to set their nerves on edge these days.
JD
Uh thanks, I’m good.
JD settles back against the wall, forcing themself to cool it, they check their phone, FRANKIE should be here soon. She’s not usually late… But it’s only really been a few minutes.
???
No, really. I insist.
They glance over to the stranger as he steps closer. JD notices his short stature and the spotted fur of his arm before the lighter ignites his face and JD’s eyes widen.
Awh fuck.
JD
E…
E
(smirks)
Yeah. Didn’t figure you’d see me again.
He nods, his attention flicking past JD and they only find out after they’ve stepped back into someone–that the bigger gnoll is with him, now wrapping their arms around JD’s.
JD doesn’t love doing this but it got them out of a pinch last time with E–
They start to initiate a shift, towards their orc but they’re stopped mid-way when E juts his hand out and something in his palm?? The glove he’s wearing?? It shoots an electric current through JD and snaps their shifting back into the gnoll form they were wearing.
And fuck if it doesn’t hurt like a son of a bitch.
E
Heh. Didn’t think I’d let ya use the same trick twice. Fool me once… Shame on you, JD, fool me twice…well. Prefer to avoid it.
JD trembles with the aftershock of the current in their system. They shift against the grip of the gnoll that only tightens around their arms.
JD
L-look. I stopped pinning shit on Barkfang after our last stint. Yeah?
Mmm…mostly. E doesn’t seem convinced, looking JD over.
E
Eh…not really. Now ya got yerself even closer to my family, you rotten little snake. Using your… Wiles on my sister, pissing off my pops. Didn’t get to really shake ya down last time. So. Looks like I owe ya, two fer.
His sister? Oh. Great.
JD
Ah, you’re Emilio.
E
Oh, good, your brain’s still working in there.
JD rolls their eyes and when he goes to hit them with that electric pulse again, they shift their weight. Using the grip from the bigger gnoll to their advantage, they kick EMILIO’s hand with their foot, nearly knocking him off balance.
Oh hm, yeah that would really piss him off, huh. EMILIO regains himself and his eyes are wide with rage as he snaps his fingers and points to the ground.
Despite JD’s attempts to wriggle free, they meet the ground face-first. The big gnoll’s knee digs into their back as their hands are pinned behind them.
JD
Okayokay–wait shit–what do you want? We can talk about this, yeah?
Hard to be diplomatic with their face to the ground like this. EMILIO crouches by them, clicking his tongue.
EMILIO
Mm. Not feeling the most chatty. Especially not after that. But I’ll humour ya.
(snrk)
You know who our pop’s is right? Mine ’n Frankie’s. She never really tells her little toys. Seems to…casually omit that particular detail.
JD grits their teeth, swallowing their anger, their embarrassment at this whole shakedown.
JD
(strained)
She mentioned, yeah.
EMILIO
Oh you do? And Biteclaw scum like you’s still sniffin’ around anyway? Does she know that, by the way? Who you’re workin’ for?
JD
N-never came up.
EMILIO
No?
JD imagines wiping that sick grin off EMILIO’s face in the most gruesome way known to sentient life-form.
EMILIO
Fascinating. Wonder what she’s gonna say when she finds out, then.
JD
C’mon, Emilio. I got your message I’ll back off, you’ll never have to see me again, alright?
EMILIO
Aw, hey. You were the one who insisted on a chat but if you want me to speed this up, then I’ll just get to what I came for.
EMILIO leans in closer.
EMILIO
I should warn you, it’s…going to hurt more than a message.
He looks up to the gnoll pinning JD and gives them a nod. They grab JD, and flip them over. The gnoll grips their throat hard enough to pin them to the ground while JD squirms and kicks–but this guy’s built like a brick and they can’t quite get proper purchase to shove them off.
The big gnoll reels their arm back.
JD
(panicked)
W-wait wait–Emilio–don’t do this. You’ll be pissing Frankie off, that’s not worth it, right?
But when JD catches EMILIO’s eye there’s a twinkle in it, and a sick little grin to match.
EMILIO
Ah, well. That’s just a bonus.
That big swing connects, hard.
48. INT. THE SMOKEHOUSE — NIGHT
They are…regretting taking FOXTROT up on this gig when they finally make it to the SMOKEHOUSE much later than they should have. JD holds their mid-section and winces as they slide the clattering the door open to the mess inside.
CUT TO: INSIDE
The mess in here is no joke. The bodies are going to be a bitch to lift, even if there is only three. JD leans against the door looking miserable, a cut on their lip, a drying bloody nose, a black-eye swollen shut. Even wearing the lashunta is a strain right now. Their shifting didn’t like that bruising a single bit. Holding up the gnoll felt worse somehow.
They push themself off the door and get to work. They find the storage cupboard of supplies and there isn’t much but a rogue slime in here. Great. They drag their kit over and start mixing solutions out of powder. They don’t really love using their own shit because it’s expensive but they’ll do it if they have to.
After assessing the situation they get to scrubbing. Each movement is painstaking though JD works through it. Their mind just keeps going over their encounter with EMILIO.
FLASHBACK: AFTER HE WAS DONE WITH THEM
JD is dropped in the alley in a heap looking worse than they are now. Everything feels far-away, blurry, off-kilter. EMILIO leans down with a smirk.
EMILIO
This is the only warning you’ll get. Next time, we’ll kill you. Capisce?
JD nods miserably. EMILIO just giggles and stands up straighter. He tosses something hard so it hits the ground by JD’s head with a…
SFX: CLAK!
JD glances at it and it’s FRANKIE’s comm, complete with her assortment of charms and knick-knacks.
CUT TO: ANYWAY.
JD scrubs and scrubs and scrubs until their hands run raw with the effort but it at least distracts a little bit from the pain everywhere else.
49. INT. JD’S APARTMENT — NIGHT
JD isn’t really sure how they got home but by some miracle they did. They stumble through their door and shut it, leaning their back against it. Off their shoulder, their bag drops to their feet beside them. JD looks miserable, it’s hard not to like this.
Carefully their skin splits apart into ribbons and they wince without sound as they’re put back together again with their base face. JD grits their teeth and stands there, propped up by the door, until their hands stop shaking and the bright stars of pain in their eyes go away.
SFX: ZZT ZZT
JD ignores their comm, they push themself off the door and place the–now three–comms on their person, on their kitchen counter. They shuffle into the bathroom and looks at their battered face in the mirror. They frown, luckily not enough damage here to keep permanent…certainly enough for it to hurt with each shift, though.
They pull out the first aid kit and fumble through cleaning up which feels like it takes hours. They don’t want to think of the miserable hell the next few weeks of healing are going to be like.
CUT TO: IN BED
JD is stiff, they’re not sure if laying down or standing up feels better because everything hurts. A few more times their comm goes off with messages. FRANKIE’s has alerted new messages with a small bark sound a couple times but they were already in bed when they realised the sound wasn’t off. They decided to leave it there, not wanting the temptation to pry into her shit. Both their comms sit on their nightstand, ominously quiet.
They lay awake until the sun rises again.
But then their comm rings this time, the buzzing sound of the vibration lasting longer. They sigh, they don’t answer, letting whoever it is drop it to their voicemail or text.
Then, painstakingly, they reach for it. Open up the screen. There’s a missed call from TANGO, a couple messages from FOXTROT.
A new one pops up from IZ.
IZOLA: [Come in. 7:30]
JD sighs. [K]
They pull themself out of bed, dress carefully. They look themself in the mirror, pulling at their hair as it lengthens in their fingers long enough to cover their swollen eye. They tie the rest up in a tail so it looks like its styled intentionally. They… Can’t hide the cut on their lip but maybe she won’t notice.
She’ll notice. Maybe she just won’t say anything.
JD grits their teeth, sighs and pulls themself out of the bathroom, over to the bag they dropped at the door. They pick it up and step out, clicking the door gently shut behind them.
50. INT. JUST OUTSIDE IZOLA’S OFFICE — MORNING
JD couldn’t shift into the gnoll this time. That fact squirms a pit in their stomach harder than they realised. It’s the face they usually meet her with, and, sure, she knows that they’re a shifter–that they’re endiffian. It’s on their paperwork. But it doesn’t feel right, wearing the lashunta…like it’s too close to their real face. They’ve never really shown her that side of them, either.
They try to reason that that’s why they’re nervous and not because they totally got their ass kicked, and maybe did a shoddy job on FOXTROT’s last minute clean at the SMOKEHOUSE.
Their steps slow as they walk, slow as they look up to the office doors at the end of the hall. It’s musty in here. The dust catches the orange light from the tinting dawn simulation outside.
JD checks the time. Ugh. They’re just on time. That doesn’t leave any room to dawdle. If their heart worked like living folks did it’d be racing at light speed. But as it is they have to remind themself that lashunta still need to look like they’re breathing.
Even if IZOLA already knows they don’t really have to.
JD approaches, knocks on the door and carefully peers inside.
IZOLA sits behind the worn desk but thoughtfully looks out the large gaping windows, waiting.
JD
(quietly)
You…wanted to see me?
Though their voice is quieter than it usually is, it cuts through the silence like a knife.
IZOLA doesn’t turn around.
IZOLA
Sit.
JD steps inside, shuts the door behind them. They shift their bag off their shoulder, setting it by the door. Every sound they make feels too loud. Even small shifts and shuffles. They make their way over to the chair opposite the desk and sit down. At their feet sit patches of dried blood. You would think she’d get someone to clean it up.
But of course she wouldn’t. It sends a message. It didn’t use to freak them out quite so much as it does right now. They pull a smoke out and turn it around in their fingers but they know better than to light it in here, in front of her.
IZOLA
You were late…
But as she turns her voice drifts. Fuck. She noticed. Of course she did. Hard to hide a split lip. Scars and cuts are about the only thing they can’t hide in a shift, especially not this fresh.
It certainly doesn’t help that they don’t look the gnoll part, they can see her hesitating on what it is she even wants to ask first.
But this is IZOLA, she recovers and speaks before JD can even excuse their lack of professionalism.
IZOLA
Who did this to you?
The question cuts straight to the chase even though they wish she wouldn’t. They can’t stop themself from catching her eye as they falter on the answer. She looks at them, sympathetically, pityingly really. They hate it.
All they can ever see in that look is M staring back at them with the same one before she sent them here. To this.
JD
Some guy. I don’t know. I was looking for trouble.
Terrible lie. Of course she sees right through it. They haven’t had enough time to come up with something plausible, that doesn’t hark back to FRANKIE.
Does IZ know about their stint with FRANKIE? Maybe not… If they tell her EMILIO did it, though, they’d have a hard time not explaining everything.
IZOLA
I don’t believe this, JD. You don’t look for trouble.
(softer)
A strike on you is a strike on us. I thought we were past this secrecy.
JD shakes their head, dropping their gaze to the blood stains at their feet. They picture IZOLA herself making the mess with their own face on the ground.
Picture how fucking pissed she would be if she found out they were sleeping with FRANKIE. Would she even look them in the eye knowing that? They’d be lucky if she even let them walk out of this room.
JD
I’m sorry, Iz–I just…I can’t tell you.
They hate the way their voice betrays them.
The silence in the room rings between them, thick. Distant, a tension IZOLA’s been trying to cut between them for months but they can’t risk the break. She waits for them to answer, to give her anything more about this.
But when they don’t she sighs and JD fights every instinct to flinch when her tone shifts.
IZOLA
This is, very disappointing to hear from you.
JD
I’m sorry.
They flick their gaze to her, to parts of her, reading her in snapshots while she reads them in full video.
IZOLA
Sounds like, you will need a break.
JD
Ah, it’s… It’s already healing. I can be back on my feet in three days, easy–
IZOLA
No, JD.
The seriousness of her tone snaps their eyes to her’s as they struggle to read what they’re seeing.
IZOLA
It seems like you need remember what it is to be a Biteclaw.
JD
What…?
IZOLA
You’re out, JD. Unless you tell me who it is that did this to you. I can’t help you. I can’t trust you.
JD’s world falls away, she’s saying something else but it’s hard to make out under the distant roar as a black gaping maw opens up from the stains at their feet.
JD
I-Iz… Don’t do this. You can trust me. I haven’t–Th-this was a mistake, sure. B-But I–
IZOLA
Give me a name, then, JD.
JD stares, locking eyes with her’s. She’s livid, frustrated, serious. This is a real final straw with her. Everything inside them wants to toss EMILIO at her feet.
But they keep thinking of FRANKIE and losing her–as if they didn’t already lose the battle for her when EMILIO had their ass kicked.
They stall for too long. IZOLA turns away, attention back out the large windows.
IZOLA
Go. Leave your comm, leave your things. Do not come back here unless you have a name.
JD stands but they don’t remember telling their body to do it. Their voice doesn’t even sound right when it drops pathetically out of their mouth.
JD
Please, Iz…
But IZOLA doesn’t turn. She’s finished.
IZOLA
You know what I am asking for.
JD stands there, caught with the name that will fix everything if they just drop it on her desk. But they don’t.
They drop their work comm with her contacts in it, with all their carefully researched contacts in it.
Some other force pulls them away from her desk. They reach the door before IZOLA catches their attention one last time:
IZOLA
If I find out who did this, before you give me the answer, JD. You’ll find this station to be very small.
Stiffly they drop their gaze, give a curt nod.
JD
Yes, ma’am.
And then they leave.
51. INT. THE TRAM — MIDDAY
JD sits in one of the empty seats and stares into nothing, face laced with worry. They look like they could puke onto that dusty flooring if they weren’t spending so much energy keeping themself together. They twirl a cigarette in their fingers, pick pick picking at the wrapping as they stare down down down and into themself. Caught up in old memories that swallow them whole.
CUT: JD’s a kid, they’re handed a long rifle, which makes them nearly topple before a couple of hands, grey like their own, help steady them, the shot rotates around them as they age, the hands gradually pull back before JD peers into a lens-less scope and fires.
SFX: ZZTAK ZZTAK–
CUT: There’s blood on JD’s hands, they stare down at them, expression blank as the liquid drips off their fingers and hits the floor with an audible…
SFX: PLAP–
CUT: The hand from earlier grabs the shoulder of their jumpsuit, obscuring some insignia against the black as they’re dragged along, quickly. They’re shoved into an alcove and told to stay hidden.
CUT: Someone else is coming. JD pulls a gun from it’s holster and gets ready. They step out and fire–
SFX: TAK TAK TAK–
CUT: JD is sitting slumped in a chair. Someone paces in front of them, arms gesticulating. Telling them off.
JD
(frustrated)
At least I did something.
M looks back at them, a face that looks similar to JD’s but older, hairline cracks break through her skin by her jaw. She wears a pitying frown, looks away, disappointed.
M
Maybe this life should not be for you, [REDACTED].
52. EXT. FRANKIE’S APARTMENT — DAY
JD, didn’t really plan on this. They just got off at the wrong stop and made a few wrong turns and then they were standing here in front of FRANKIE’s building… Which is the last place they should be.
And yet they keep walking, detached from themself. They slip into the building as someone steps out. They punch the number in the elevator as gravity nips at their heels.
JD blinks and they’re standing in front of her door. They lift a hand to knock and that’s when reality comes crumbling down.
What the fuck are they doing?
They’re frozen in their indecision, fear, ache. They stop breathing long enough time stands still.
Just as they turn away, FRANKIE opens the door, nearly running right into them.
FRANKIE
What the–Joan?
The name throws JD off for a second. They hesitate too long, caught, long enough for FRANKIE to notice.
FRANKIE
(softer)
Hey, what the hell happened to you, stranger?
She reaches to push the hair out of their face and the gesture alone breaks them. Pulls the last piece out of their attempt to keep themself together.
JD wraps their arms around her, hands trembling into her back. They bury their face into her fur, falling apart against her. They feel FRANKIE wrap her arms around them, rubbing circles into their back.
FRANKIE
Hey, what gives… Huh?
FRANKIE teases them, quietly. They can hear the nervousness in her voice but JD can only feel the gravity try to crumble them down into memories and disappointment. They shut their eyes and focus on the smell of her fur, the feel of her expensive shirt in their hands, the circles she’s tracing into their back.
FRANKIE frowns, a bit more worried this time but she holds them like this until the shaking in their hands subsides, until they walk themself back from the edge of the black hole’s maw staring back up at them.
Carefully, FRANKIE pulls back and JD lets her, sniffling and scrubbing their face.
JD
Sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in…
FRANKIE
Hey, c’mon, you oughta barge in more often…
Her voice trails as she gets a real good look at them. She takes their face and JD drops their gaze, wincing, not from the pain but the embarrassment that twists their insides as she pushes their hair back to reveal that terrible black eye. It hurts a bit less now, but maybe that’s just because the painkillers are really kicking in.
FRANKIE
Who did this to you?
JD
Nobody. H-hit a door, I guess.
FRANKIE grabs their hands, she flicks her gaze around before she tugs them into her apartment. The sharp jerk sends a snap of pain through them. She doesn’t believe them because even as she’s shutting the door her voice is already a low growling anger.
FRANKIE
I’ll kill ‘em. I’ll do it myself, even.
JD
Frankie…
Their tone stalls her. It’s smaller than they want it to be, they sound like they did before they got here. Meek and weak and they try not to think about it because they’re so tired of thinking. But they hate it and they hate this and they hate that they’re doing this to her.
FRANKIE reaches up and gently scrubs a tear streaking down their face and she holds them for a moment, that anger is masked with worry.
FRANKIE
Let’s fix you up first, yeah? Take it easy.
She leads them toward the couch, making them sit.
JD
I already took um, painkillers and shit. I don’t really even feel it much.
FRANKIE
Yeah? Well nothin’ helps with that swelling more than a bag of frozen uhm…
FRANKIE holds up a thoughtful finger and darts towards her fridge, opening the freezer and taking out a package of something.
FRANKIE
Uhhh niblets?
Niblets are packets of small leftover mystery bits of produce and meat battered and packaged to sell, cheap as shit, absolutely no nutritional value, the packages are barely passable as food. JD lived off those things for years, they almost forgot they even existed.
They can’t help but crack a small smile.
JD
(teasing)
Oh–you actually eat those?
FRANKIE places the small package in their hand.
FRANKIE
Nope, just keep ‘em. They make good ice packs.
JD
You know… they actually make those, non-food types.
FRANKIE
Yeah but this is my lucky bag of niblets. I’ve had ‘em for years.
JD
Oh, gross.
JD takes a second to power through a shape-shift into their base-face for a bit of relief. They press the pack of niblets to their eye gently anyway and the cold starts to ease the stretch caused by the swelling. On all accounts this is the nicest they’ve felt in the last 24 hours.
FRANKIE
Hey, I’ve seen what you have in your fridge, ya can’t say shit about my fucked up niblets.
JD
Okay, well, I’ve cleaned out all the rotting shit in the back.
FRANKIE
Thank gods for that.
FRANKIE leans her head against her hand on the side of the couch, watching them as her amusement fades to worry.
JD doesn’t immediately notice. They sink back into her couch and shut their eyes and focus on keeping from sinking too deep into themself. It’s only when she takes their hand they remember she’s looking at them and worrying about them. They frown.
JD
(embarrassed)
Sorry I… Didn’t mean to spoil your evening. I just…
But their words get stuck because there’s too much going on right now and any misstep could…
…well they suppose it really can’t make things any worse.
FRANKIE
JD?
JD startles, looking at her again. FRANKIE frowns.
FRANKIE
You can’t fix everything.
JD
I know…
FRANKIE
Sometimes you even gotta ask for help…
JD gives her fingers a meek squeeze. They shake their head.
JD
I wasn’t supposed to be in this, Frankie.
FRANKIE
(wary)
Be… In what?
JD
Th-this crime… Helping crime syndicates…mobs… But it’s all I’m good at. Cleaning up shit and being invisible. It’s all I’m good at. Wh-what am I gonna do?
FRANKIE
Well… I can’t give much advice, if I don’t know what happened…
JD’s hand with the niblets drops to sit in their lap as they sigh.
JD
I don’t even know where to start.
FRANKIE
Start with who did this to you.
JD
Frankie…
FRANKIE
I’m serious, JD. No fuckin’ rat bastard on this station’s gonna get away with this. I’ll kill ‘em myself.
JD
You won’t.
FRANKIE
Why not? Ya think so little of me?
JD
Because it’s Emilio that did it.
A thick silence spreads between the two of them as FRANKIE processes what they just said.
JD pulls up her phone and gives it to her.
JD
I texted you, to meet up. I thought it was you. But it wasn’t. He was waiting there with a big guy and thats it. Smart move on his part. I was being stupid, messy… Frankie?
JD stalls as FRANKIE looks over the last text exchange between the two of them, well, between JD and EMILIO.
FRANKIE
Ohoho. That little snake. That little–He’s dead. The little fuck–
As FRANKIE starts furiously typing to, what JD can only assume, is EMILIO, they reach, despite the scream of pain from their ribbons and grab her phone.
JD
Frankie–Frankie–No. Fuck. Stop.
FRANKIE
I’m not gonna let him get away with this.
JD
You can’t just tell him I told you. Frankie. What happens when he knows I’m a fuckin’ snitch? What happens to me, again? He kills me next time. And then what?
FRANKIE
He’s not gonna kill ya, JD–
JD
I don’t have anyone else.
JD’s voice is urgent, terrified. It stops FRANKIE in her tracks. Quickly, while they have an opening, JD’s words spill out like a flood they can’t dam up with their overthink.
JD
I was let go because I can’t–I can’t tell anyone about this. I’m out of a fucking job. I don’t have protection right now and you’re just gonna fuel the fire that got me there. Just drop it, please. Frankie.
FRANKIE hesitates, holding their gaze, defiant but not quite committing.
JD
Frankie… Please.
She knows they don’t ask for much, not usually, not ever. She sighs and deletes the text she was furiously writing.
FRANKIE
I’m not gonna let him trample you, like this. A slight on you is a slight on me, too.
JD watches her, squeezing her hand again, a tight smile spreading across their face.
JD
I appreciate the gesture.
FRANKIE
Why’d your side kick ya to the curb, anyway?
JD frowns.
JD
Did one too many botched jobs, I guess.
FRANKIE
JD…
JD
It’s fine. Really. I’ll figure something out.
FRANKIE holds their gaze like she doesn’t believe them, she sighs when they refuse to give her any more, shifting over to carefully snuggle up against them. Worrying.
JD doesn’t break the silence, they sit in it, worrying alongside her. Trying not to tumble down the hole into the worst case scenario.
But they really can’t stop thinking about their old shit-hole apartment with the terrible light that wouldn’t adjust and the grease work of scrubbing down restaurants for measly pay they’d never get because the budget got cut too short.
They’d be blamed for crime clean up anyway. They’ll really have to lay low for a while, cut back on their visibility, maybe stick to one shape, make it really believable–
FRANKIE
(quiet)
What if I could get you a job?
JD
(wary)
Working for Barkfang?
FRANKIE
Yeah. We’d be on the same side. I could get you in easy, and then you wouldn’t have to worry so much.
FRANKIE turns her gaze up to them with a hopeful smile that cuts straight through to their heart.
But…they just got let go…They couldn’t really double-cross IZ like that so fast.
JD
I…I’ll have to think about it.
FRANKIE
Mm-mm. No, that’s enough thinking, for you. Just let me fix things for once, okay?
JD hesitates, but watching her now, there’s no way they’d be able to stop her, anyway. They take as deep a breath as their pain will allow before they sigh it out.
JD
Yeah. Okay.