Chapter Text
He was freezing.
He was miserable. Wet with rain, blood, sweat and tears.
But he's never felt so alive.
His hands were shaking with excitement, every painful limp he took only empowered him more to get away from that fucking building.
He was gasping for breath and his teeth clattered, the cold felt like a million nails piercing his skin and that's all he could ever ask for.
The light hurt.
It stung his sensitive eyes as small round orbs of yellow littered the sky above him, gentle hums of neon signs buzzing with electricity, people laughing. Genuine laughs that weren't strained with the years of constant yelling, crying and packs of cigarettes almost was enough to bring him to tears.
The splash of puddles as people walked through them was comforting, watching the water ripple under him as he stepped through one fascinated him.
None of these things were new. He was familiar with the humming of lights, laughs, puddles.
But now he was his own person. He felt new, like he just came out of a cloner yesterday and the world was still a new place waiting to be explored.
Deimos paused and leaned against the wall of a building, clutching his hand that was caked in a layer of dried blood.
Deimos didn't want to listen to what Phobos and every other agent said. He wanted to explore, make his own things, hurt people in new creative ways that didn't involve guns.
They deemed him unreliable. He started to sound like a young scientist that they couldn't trust, so he was listed for a lethal injection.
Deimos would have no part of it.
There was so much left to do, to much left untouched and undiscovered! He wanted to be free, to live his life and take everything it threw at him, to actually feel alive and explore the vast plains of Nevada. He wanted to hear people say his name with excitement and love, not by a serial number.
He wanted, no, needed to see what it had to offer. He would not let his passion die so easily. So, he tore from his restraints and he had grabbed the needle imbedded into the veins of his hand and arm and just pulled.
It hurt. It was one of the most painful things Deimos had experienced so far in his short life and he knew it wouldn't be the last. It almost made him happy.
Deimos fought tooth and nail to get out of that chair and he'd be damned if it turned out for nothing.
He was no stranger to such violent outburst and fights, but for once it made him happy.
Happy that for once something good was coming from such an action that lead him to where he was now. Leaning against the wall of a building and far, far away from them.
He slowly leaned up from his wall and stumbled forward, the pain that shot through his ankles and head like bullets with each step pulled a gasping breathe from him, ignoring the looks grunts gave from around him as a grin split across his face.
As he stumbled through the streets and mumbled his apologies to strangers he bumped into he stared at the erected statue surrounded by worn and graffitied benches of none other than Phobos.
Phobos... Phobos.
That damned name. It left a sour taste in his mouth just thinking about it.
The statue towered over him tauntingly, its proud fist wielding a sword engraved with lines of code and its singular eye stared at him like it could see what he's done, judging him for every choice he's made like it would reach out and slap the sense into him for it.
A hand grabbed Deimoses shoulder and spun him around, before he could make a move to strike his attacker he stopped.
Dark brown eyes met his, one with a slice of a grayish blue in it stared into him with an unreadable expression.
"What?-" Deimos spoke but they didn't let him finish as they grabbed his sore arm with ice cold hands that sent an unpleasant shock up Deimoses spine.
"You're vein is collapsed." They said. When Deimos didn't reply they looked up at him. "It's not smart to rip out IV's."
"I could've guessed." Deimos replied, pulling his hand away from them with a confused look.
"Would you like some help treating it?" They offered with a tilt of their head.
"I can't exactly pay you if that's what you're looking for." Deimos replied.
"You can repay me in other ways."
Deimos stared at them with an uncomfortable expression. "Uh... How so?"
They visibly perked up slightly and extended their hand. "You can call me Doc or 2BDamned." They said.
Deimos hesitantly shook their hand. "Deimos." He said.
Doc's hand tightened and pulled him uncomfortably close which made Deimos tense.
"I assume you're the one that escaped the Nexus Core." He spoke quietly, glancing at the people that walked past them suspiciously.
Deimos could only nod as the person smiled at him, showing off their sharp teeth.
"I assumed so. I'm not on good terms with them either." He said, letting go of Deimoses hand and looked him up and down. "I heard of what happened through their emails."
Deimos nodded, running his nails up and down his arm nervously as 2B looked down at him.
"I'll get to the point, Deimos. I'm apart of a faction called S.Q against the Nexus Core... I think you'd be a perfect member once I get you patched up." 2B said as he gently pried Deimoses scratching hand from his arm. "And If you make it worse I might have to actually charge you."
Deimos stared at 2B, carefully weighing his options as 2B waited patiently for his response.
He was eager for a new life, to explore and do anything.
After a moment, Deimos finally nodded.
"Alright... I'll join you."
This was all he could ever ask for.