Never Enough || Mei Zhu & Draco || March Games
Despite Draco’s original doubts and misgivings on the mandatory training situation, once the first Games after his arrival rolled around and he stood waiting for the countdown to hit zero and the action to begin, he was practically buzzing with adrenaline. Ever opinionated and loudly unashamed about it, Draco had grown up with quick wits and an even quicker pair of hands, taught from a young age to seize his desires by the throat and not let go until they submitted to him. Granted Draco had never received any kind of formal training or lessons in any sort of combative sport, his family never in the same place long enough for that to be a viable option, but he’d done well enough for himself picking up the dirtiest of tricks and moves by picking fights with kids twice his size. Fairly tall, strong, and used to bruises, Draco had quickly learnt from his past mistakes, developing a distinctive fighting style over the years: brutal and dirty, with little regard for the rules or any kind of moral code.
The prospect of the Games had therefore brought with it an old and familiar sense of bloodlust, despite the rules not technically allowing him to cause too much physical harm onto his opponents. That’d he’d take some of his anger out on any nearby Reformists remained a given, but considering his continued relatively newbie-like status at Col22, he’d decided the day before to go a bit easier on any potential allies or friends to his cause. What he hadn’t factored into that equation was a run in with Mei Zhu Fitrei.
Right from the beginning Draco had set his sights on the sleek sniper gun to the right of the massive pile of weapons, a tool that would ideally allow him to pick off opponents from afar - perhaps the safety of a tree branch. And while quietly and from afar hardly suited Draco’s style of attack, it’d be a good second resort to have on his person, not to mention a solid piece of metal to be used as a baton during any close quarter combat situations. And so, the very moment the sound of the horn announced the start of the Games, Draco made for the gun, weaving and ducking left to right to avoid crashing full speed into any of the others en route to plunder the pile. That his gun would be snatched off the ground a split second before he could reach it however had not factored in Draco’s calculations, triumphant grin turning sour at the sigh of Mei Zhu clutching the gun in her hands. Without a moments hesitation he lunged and grabbed the other end of it, tugging hard.
The squabble over the gun sent them both tumbling to the ground with Mei Zhu’s quick reflexes briefly gaining her the upper hand. The weight behind her full body tackle squashed near all the air from Draco’s lungs, fingers slipping off the butt of the gun after another decisive tug from the doctor. Ever the sore loser (although not quite so discontent to have Mei Zhu pressing him down against the ground with her knees), Draco didn’t take long to recalculate and spring back into action. Sights now set on a smaller weapon sitting unattended to the side he put the full force of his weight into a right roll, simultaneously shoving Mei Zhu off of him and ramming the hard metal tip of the sniper gun into her face. Not keen on sticking around too long to survey the damage he clambered to his feet, grabbing both the new gun and a stuffed backpack before making for the woods.
The rest of the Games served well to take his mind off the confrontation with Mei Zhu, and despite having his ass handed to him by Charlotte and her team frustratingly close to the end, the whole ordeal of fighting and running left him out of breath but all around cheery. He’d sustained several nasty cuts and gashes throughout the afternoon and while his own personal pride deemed a visit to the infirmary for treatment unnecessary, it was his guilt that eventually drove him into seeking out Mei Zhu. With his search leading leading him to the infirmary and the helpful advice of one of the nurses on where he might find her, Draco eventually made his way to the labs. Without any hope of access by himself he aptly made use of the Colony wide post-Game hubbub and a distracted technician to sneak past the sliding doors, one of his hands stuffed into the depths of his pockets while he surveyed the lab and eventually stepped over towards Mei Zhu’s form hunched over one of the tables.
“Those were some Games.” A keen sense of self-preservation kept him just outside of smacking reach, his free hand keeping in place the by now fairly bloodied rag someone had handed him to stem the bleeding from the cut across his jaw. “You fight very well, doctor. I am impressed. And before you kick me out of labs, I only came to see how you are doing. I hope there are not too many hard feelings? If it makes you feel better I think I got what was deserved for hurting you. So now we are even, yes?”
Mei Zhu looked up at the unfortunately familiar voice. “You,” she snapped in a low, tense whisper. “You shouldn’t be in here.” It wasn’t because of what happened at the Games---well, it wasn’t just because of the Games---but having more to do with her concern for the lab’s security. They obviously handles highly sensitive information in the lab, and if someone like Draco found out about their most recent assignment, there would be hell to pay. A reversal of Infections engineered by the Reformists? The doctor could just see the chaos now, with present company very much included.
But scrambling to hide what she’d been working on would seem suspicious, and it didn’t seem like he even understood what he was looking at. Calmly she stowed her work away, as if it was a logical response to what was obviously an unwanted interruption, and not because of the true nature of the research.
Even after the paperwork was safely locked in a filing cabinet, he was still here. She sighed, and let her hair loose from the tight bun she had it in whenever she worked in the lab. “That cut needs to be cleaned,” she said. She didn’t know what else to say. No hard feelings? That would require her to have any feelings about him. And so she did what she always did in these kinds of situations, and stuck to cold, hard fact.
“Follow me,” she ordered, leading him to her office. She would have preferred to do it in the infirmary, of course, but they were already there, and in any case, she always kept a simple first aid kit in the lab, which was more than he needed (or deserved) at the moment.
The doctor pulled a face at the rag and took it away from him. He’d get an infection before loss of blood became a concern. “It’ll stop bleeding on it’s own pretty soon. Here,” she said, handing him a clean bandage. “Hold it to your chin for a minute. Once the bleeding stops I’ll clean it, and put some antibiotic on it.”
She sat down at her desk, wondering if she could ignore him long enough to get some paperwork done, before quickly deciding against it. Hadn’t she learned her lesson with Constantin?
Mei Zhu sighed again. “And your concern for my well-being is noted,” she said. She wasn’t completely sure whether it was actual concern, or if he had another reason to sneak into the lab, but she didn’t know how else to put it. He hadn’t even apologized yet. Still, she did feel slightly better that he didn’t come out of the Games unscathed. After several moments---in painfully awkward silence, which the woman braved with a stiff upper lip, her arms crossed---long enough time for the laceration to stop hemorrhaging, she put on a pair of gloves, and started cleaning some of the dried blood.
“How did you get in here, anyway?” she asked, concerned but also a tiny bit impressed. “You do realize I’ll have to write you up for it.”
