Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

2B wheezed as the air was knocked out of him, the mag rearing it's head back as it let out a scream and knocking Deimos back into a wall, he grunted and his body bent forward, unconscious.

Sanford looked over in panic, his mouth moved but 2B couldn't hear anything coming from his mouth, all he heard was the heavy panting breaths and grunts from the mag as it swung wildly, grabbing anything it could get its large hands on and crushing it in one swift movement. 

2B scrambled to his feet, still dazed and his head spun, patting his sides for his gun and he brought it up, fixing his gun for it's singular eye poking out from behind it's mask he pulled the trigger.

A pained yell followed from Sanford, his trusty hook lodged in the mags face and a bullet hole in his shoulder.

'Oh god.' 2B silently cursed himself, he opened his mouth to yell and apologize, but nothing came out other than a pathetic wheeze.

Sanford looked up at him, pain and confusion evident on his expression, but it was quickly replaced with panic as a giant clawed hand smashed down onto Sanford's head.

2B felt like everything froze, his stomach dropped and he staggered back as the hand lifted, only leaving the battered and horribly disfigured remains of Sanford.

"Oh god oh god oh god" 2B shook and looked into the eye of the mag, piercing yellow and full of rage, it stepped forward and drew it's fist back, eye's trained on him.

2B backed up against the wall, and before he could process what was happening, the fist of the mag was coming at him, and everything hurt, but only for a moment.

And he woke up.

2B threw his blanket off, sweating bullets and gasping for air, his lungs burned and his head was pounding.

"Not again. God damnit..." 2B breathed out, rubbing his face with his hands. 

"It was just an accident, he forgave you multiple times already. Sanford is fine, he's alive and well..." 

2B sighed and another wheeze followed, his chest and throat burned as he did.

2B slowly sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed he slowly got up and trudged out of his room and into the area they called a living room.

Deimos and Sanford were on the couch, sprawled out across each other, bandages tightly wrapped around the area were 2B had accidentally shot him in the shoulder.

"He's fine... Go to bed..." 2B mumbled to himself, he turned to go back down the hallway but ran head first into someone.

2B panicked, bringing a fist up ready to beat the shit out of whoever made their way into his house, but he slowly put it down.

"Hank, you ass. What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?" 2B whisper yelled at him.

Hank stared down at 2B for a moment.

"You're wheezing." Hank signed.

"I'm aware. Don't worry about it, it'll go away on it's own." 2B said.

Hank reached into one of his pockets and threw something at 2B, having to suppress a chuckle as 2B scrambled to catch it. 

"... An inhaler?" 2B looked up at Hank. "Why are you carrying this thing around?"

"For you dumbass, you're the only one here with asthma." Hank signed, looking unimpressed.

2B rolled his eyes, but he shook the inhaler and took off it's cap. "Thank you, Hank." 2B mumbled.

"Same one again?" Hank asked, taking the inhaler back once he was done.

2B only nodded, taking a deep breath and sighing heavily.

Hank said nothing, he turned and started walking to his room, 2B following after him. 

Hank crawled into bed, knowing 2B would follow them soon after he scooted over and watched as 2B made himself comfortable, their usual routine.

Hank reached over and pulled him into him and tossed the covers over them both.

They both laid in silence for a bit, until there was a deep rumbling sound that filled the empty room.

Hank let out a small laugh, and was promptly kicked in the leg.

"Shut up." 2B snapped but his voice lacked any real venom.

Hank gave him a light kick back and they both gave a little laugh.

"Goodnight Hank." 2B said.

"..... Night." Hank replied.

Chapter Text

Alright, alright. I have a shit ton of WIPS if it weren't obvious by the chapter numbers jumping around like crazy but I'm going through with this anyway.

The request page...

NOTE: I CAN'T GUARANTEE I'LL GET IT DONE IN A TIMELY MANNER! REQUEST WILL PROBABLY BE DONE VERY SPORADICALLY AND OUT OF REQUEST ORDER! I'LL STILL BE POSTING MY OWN IDEAS AND STORIES ALONGSIDE THESE!

Also no guarantees I'll even do some request. I'm sorry in advance if that happens.

And PLEASE keep request on THIS PAGE. Not commenting request on this page will result in it being ignored in its entirety. (If its an accident I understand though)

With that note, here's what I WILL WRITE

• Fluff
• Hurt/Comfort
• Angst/Major character deaths/gore/horror
• Canon character x Canon character ships
• Just about anything as long as it doesn't apply to the list below

I WILL NOT WRITE

• Smut/18+ content 
• Abusive/manipulative relationships
• Deimos x Phobos (They're brothers to me and it runs a lil to deep for me to feel comfy writing it)
• Anything implying illegal relationships/incest/non-con. No exceptions.
• Suicidal implications (thoughts/actually doing it/etc)
• X readers
• X OC's
• OC inserts 

I think that's about it for lists. I'll be sure to add on if I can think of any more.

Also!! Feel free to send in songs with your request! Song name - Artist or just using HTML to make it a clickable link. I write much better with music and get much better visuals with it.

And request will be labeled accordingly in their chapter names!  Feel free to give me a title you want or it'll be as bad as the others on here lmao

That's about it. Just do what comes natural.

Chapter Text

Rip, tear, screaming, the feeling of red sticky liquid clinging to their fingers, it was the same song and dance they've grown use to over the last few decades.

Kill agents, steal however much you can physically carry, take data for the damned doctor, the usual.

Hank barely flinched at the knife that stabbed into his abdomen, grabbing the poor soldier by the tie of their suit and stabbing into their eye, relishing in the feeling of blood pouring down the knife handle and soaking into their already wet gloves, grinning under their mask as they gave the knife one harsh twist and yanking it out of the soldiers socket and watching them collapse.

God how he loved his job.

They stepped over the agents body and watched as the door to the holding cells opened, agents turning and bringing up their guns.

Hank wasted no time bringing up their gun and firing back, watching their bodies drop like flies.

Hank sighed in disappointment. Every facility seemed to go by faster and faster, guess they were finally running out of soldiers to fill these places up.

Hank was about to turn and leave to search the building before a loud sob echoed the room.

They paused, listening as heavy breaths followed, trying to calm themselves down, and failing miserably.

Hank slowly turned, following the little noises to a corner and pulled out their knife, turning the corner and ready to stab, a high pitched scream erupted from the small soldier and fired their gun, missing a mile away over their shoulder.

Hank almost wanted to laugh, watching them pull the trigger and a small click was all that sounded from the gun.

They started shaking, staring up at him with their eyes wide with panic.

Hank only stared back.

Something was wrong here. Soldiers were usually larger than this, much more muscular and their voices were almost always gruff and deep. This... Thing... Was just pathetic.

This was a child.

Hank was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of shuffling, the kid scrambling to their feet and trying to bolt past them.

He grabbed at the back of their uniform's collar, they choked and struggled, turning to glare at him, their hazel eyes burning with pure rage and fear. 

"Why are you doing this? Aren't you supposed to kill me?" The child spat, his hands gripping their wrist as he continued to try and twist out of their grasp. 

Hank stared a little longer... What was he doing? Kid or not, this was a soldier, another number of their ranks that Hank was supposed to be gunning down on sight, yet looking at the kid before him left a lump in his throat and a pang in his gut, one he couldn't describe and the thought of murdering a child didn't sound as satisfactory as the other soldiers.

"How old are you...?" Hank finally spoke, watching the kid freeze and frown. 

"Why does it matter to you?" He snapped, patience clearly already thin.

A quick click of a gun being cocked was enough for the kid to straighten up immediately.

"Eleven! I'm eleven!" He shouted.

There it fucking was again. That same feeling, except now it was worse. It was driving them nuts. 

"Name." Hank demanded.

"Deimos." He replied quickly.

There was silence, except for the heavy panicked breathing from the child soldier standing before them.

Hank finally released Deimos, watching him stumble as he regained his footing, but Hank knocked him onto the ground.

Something in Hank's head was yelling at him, he didn't know what, he knew he should ignore the itch and leave the kid or just kill them already, but it was getting overwhelming. Besides, god knows if Hank mentioned he left a child in an empty building filled with dead people to 2B he'd be seeing death herself in under a minute. At least that's what he told himself as to why he was doing this...

Deimos struggled against Hank as he tied his arms behind his back, attempting to kick him off to the best of his ability.

"What do you want me for? I don't have anything!" Deimos said, turning his head to look at Hank over his shoulder.

Hank didn't bother saying anything, they pulled Deimos to his feet, staring down at him when something caught his attention.

They grabbed Deimos' face and forced him to look at them. Bruises littered his face, obviously done from the other soldiers, and god he looked exhausted. 

Hank was pulled from their thoughts when Deimos pulled his face from their hands and sank his teeth right into Hank's hand, but his face scrunched up and pulled away, gagging at the taste of Hank's gloves.

Hank only sighed, lifting Deimos off the ground and throwing him over his shoulder, he made his way out of the building and to one of the supply trucks at the back, he tossed the kid into the passenger seat and climbed into the driver's side.

"What the hell..." Deimos muttered under his breath, pulling at his restraints, he turned to glare at Hank. "Where are you taking me damnit!?" He spat.

Hank sighed. "You'll see." Was all he said.

The car ride was quiet other than the occasional grunts of Deimos attempting to escape his restraints and failing miserably, at the 20 minute mark he finally gave up, exhausted and sore, wrist rubbed raw from the rope.

When they finally arrived, Deimos sighed heavily. He was clearly exhausted, miserable and teetering at the edge of passing out on the spot. 

Hank picked him back up and brought him inside.

After a minute he heard a door open and 2B stepped out and approached him but he stopped short.

"Hank, what is that?" 2B asked.

"A child." Hank replied, dropping Deimos onto the floor he fell with a small 'oof'.

2B rushed forward and helped Deimos to his feet, giving him one quick glance over and sighing. "We'll discuss this later." 2B said, already turning away and pulling Deimos with him.

------

Deimos sighed as the ropes fell to the floor, bringing his hands forward and cringing at the tight pain in his shoulders.

"Sit here." The man commanded, patting the table before he turned and started gathering things.

Deimos hesitated but he did as he said. The man didn't look like much, if things went south, he might be able to take him.

The man stepped back in front of him, a wheely table next to him filled with various medical supplies, and Deimos almost jumped out of his skin when ice cold fingers gripped his arm and pulled up his sleeves.

"This might sting a bit." He warned, Deimos only hummed.

They both were silent as the man continued to work, until Deimos finally broke it.

"Am I finally able to get an answer as to why the hell I was dragged here?" Deimos asked.

2B was silent for a moment before he finally spoke.

"You're a child. What are we supposed to do, leave you out there?" 2B said, looking up from Deimoses arms and at his face, examining the many cuts and bruises along his face.

Deimos didn't say anything else, just staring at his reflection on the doctors strange mask, it's red eye protection making it look like a permanent scowl on his face.

He flinched when cold hands touched his face, slowly turning it to the side to look over him. God he hated it...

"How long do you plan on keeping me here...?" Deimos asked.

The doctor didn't reply for a moment.

"Awhile." Was all he finally replied with.

Great...

Just great...

Deimos sighed heavily.

Guess he might as well get use to it...

Chapter Text

When 2B came to Hank and told him that they'd be keeping the kid he thought he was joking but the way 2B crossed his arms and stared at him basically finalized it. When 2B crossed his arms and gave him that look, that was the end of it.

Hank grew use to the change quickly. Infact they rarely saw the kid at all. They'd see him on the couch sometimes by himself quietly, occasionally bump into him in the small hallway, which Deimos would immediately back up or squeeze past them and run like hell, or he'd be trailing behind 2B like a lost puppy.

They never talked either other than maybe an occasional wave Hank would throw his way, which in return Hank would get a quick nod before he disappeared from sight. It was just routine for them and Hank was content with that... Until he wasn't.

He was getting tired of being treated like the plague by Deimos. It gave them a feeling like he'd just been punched in the gut and was getting tired of it. 

"Hank, is something wrong?" 2B asked, leaning on the counter Hank was sat at.

"Fine." Hank replied curtly, drumming their fingers impatiently as they waited for 2B to leave.

There was silence and a shuffle of 2B moving his position. Hank didn't need to look up to know he had his arms crossed and was staring him down.

"...... What the hell is that kids problem? He avoids me like I'm some kind of... Of...-" Hank sighed, running a hand down his face.

2B was silent for a moment before he finally spoke.

"You do realize just how intimidating you are, yes?" 2B asked.

"I know that." Hank replied.

"Okay, then fix it. He's a child, Hank. You're an extremely tall person who is literally known for murdering people. If I didn't know you for as long as I have I'd be pretty intimidated to." 2B said, standing up straight he stretched and sighed. "You can start by maybe taking off all those layers of clothing and wearing something more presentable." 

Hank did just that.

Finally taking off their weapon holsters for once and wearing just a black sweater and pants, leaving their facial accessories though of course, they didn't look ready to murder at any given point and honestly Hank thought they should've taken the advice sooner, as their house felt much less stuffier than before.

Hank paused outside 2B's workspace, muffled voices coming through the door.

"The A.A.H.W always told me about Hank, how he'd kill without mercy and steal and all his other crimes and... He's... Just scary." Deimos said.

2B huffed out a laugh.

"I've known Hank for years, Dei. I promise you, they aren't as intimidating as they seem. Besides, if Hank hurt you he knows he'll have to deal with my foot up his ass." 2B said, earning a small laugh from Deimos. 

"On the topic of Hank, think you can get him for me? I found something I want him to check out." 2B asked. 

He heard Deimos hesitate before he let out an affirmative hum, shuffling as he got up and made his way to the door.

The door creaked open and Hank looked down at Deimos, who in turn let out a small yell in surprise and almost stumbled back onto his ass but Hank reached over and grabbed his arm, tugging him upright.

Deimos huffed, cheeks flushed from embarrassment. "2B wanted you." Deimos said, crossing his arms as he looked up at Hank.

"So I heard." Hank replied, walking past Deimos he ruffled his hair and tried not to laugh at his annoyed grunt.

2B's eyes squinted to represent his smile under his mask as he looked at Hank and Deimoses interaction.

"I found the coordinates for a storage unit, unguarded and everything. I think you should go check it out." 2B said, turning his tablet to Hank and pointing at dot that showed the building.

"I can go right now." Hank said.

"Sooner the better." 2B replied.

Hank turned to walk out of the office and get ready until 2B spoke again.

"And Take Deimos with you." He called after them.

"Huh??" Deimos looked at 2B like he had grown a second head.

Hank looked back at 2B with a slight look of confusion.

"You heard me. Deimos is here and he can use the experience if he's staying with us. If you guys aren't back within the next 3 hours I'll come get you guys." 2B waved his hand and turned back around in his chair.

Deimos opened his mouth to argue but 2B turned and gave him a look which immediately shut him down.

Hank only gave a thumbs up, going to get ready and redress.

Hank stepped outside to where the supply truck Hank had stolen still sat and Deimos was already climbing in on the passenger side. Hank got in after him on the opposite side.

Deimos was as stiff as a board when they climbed in and started the truck, keeping his gaze right out the window and fidgeting with his fingers.

Jebus... Did he really affect the kid that much...?

The car ride was silent other than the occasional crack as Deimos popped the joints in his wrist and fingers.

Hank reached a hand over and opened the center console and trying not to chuckle as Deimos practically jumped out of his skin at the sound.

Hank won 2B over with gifts to show he was at least semi trust worthy, so he'll just have to do the same with Deimos.

Hank dug through the piles of papers in the compartment before he finally found what he was looking for...

The A.A.H.W agents always carried peppermints in their vans and pockets to cover up the cigarettes on their breath. Not the best candy out there, but it was all there was.

They pulled the handful of small candies out and held them out towards Deimos, who was left staring wide eyed at what was being presented to him. Hank swore they could've heard the kids brain blue screen completely.

After a moment Deimos moved, grabbing the candies from Hank. "Thanks." Deimos said, looking up at Hank, who only hummed and nodded in response.

The rest of the ride wasn't as painful after that thankfully.

When they made it to the storage unit Deimos was the first one to run in after Hank busted in the door, immediately digging through piles of boxes and exclaiming excitedly as he found a cool looking necklace, which he asked Hank to put on for him.

Other than that, It was silent other than light conversions about the items they found or Deimos making some noises if he had found something cool.

It was probably the calmest mission Hank has ever been on...

Until it wasn't. 

Agency always getting in their way, of course.

A truck showed up, obviously looking to pick up supplies for a base quite a bit away.

When they busted down the doors, Deimos screamed and pulled his gun attempting to shoot them, but god, Hank has never seen a worse aim. 

They both killed the agents swiftly as to not get any attention dragged to them and Deimos was left staring at the agents dead bodies, gun still pointed at them like they'd magically come back after Hank had kicked their asses.

"I think that might be the worse aim I've ever seen." Hank said after a moment of silence, turning to look at Deimos who looked at Hank like he just insulted his mother.

"What do you mean? I'm usually better! Just... It was unexpected!" Deimos said, glaring tiny daggers at Hank.

If looks could kill, Hank would probably have a paper cut from it.

"Uh-huh... Whatever you say, kid." Hank turned to a box, pulling out ammo and placing it in a box with more of it.

"I'm serious," Deimos tugged on Hank's sleeve "I'll prove it!" 

Hank paused and turned to Deimos. 

"Alright." They said, searching around for some things to use as a make-shift targets.

"Wait I thought you'd say no because we have a mission to be on, isn't that more important?" Deimos questioned as he watched them pull a very damaged target full of bullet holes out from the very corner.

"We've got time." Hank replied as they started heading outside, Deimos right of their heels.

Deimos watched as he set up the target and walked back and motioned to the gun strapped on Deimoses hip. 

He hesitated but he slowly pulled it out abd turned off the safety and aimed the gun and fired.

Deimos wanted to curl in on himself when he looked at his shot, just barely managing to hit the thing... Has he always been that bad...?

He flinched when a pair of hands gripped his shoulders, looking up to see Hank, who crouched down behind him and repositioned his arms.

"Try that." They said as they backed up and motioned for him to fire. He hesitated for a moment before he pulled the trigger.

"Better." Hank praised. 

A smile split across Deimoses face as he looked at the target, a lot closer to the bullseye than before.

"You keep shaking to much." They said, giving Deimos a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.

Deimos nodded, staring down at his gun for a moment before he finally looked up.

"Should... We keep practicing? I don't want 2B to get worried." Deimos asked, looking up at Hank who just shrugged.

"He'll get over it. Told me to take you out for experience so that's what we're doing." Hank said, turning Deimos around and pointing at the target. "You really need it anyway. Your aim is abysmal." 

They didn't know how long they'd been out there practicing, but it was long enough that 2B came to get them.

Deimos nearly had a heart attack when he saw a motorcycle speeding towards them until they took off their helmet to reveal it was just 2B, who didn't look to pleased with them.

"It's been nearly 4 hours, you both had me worried sick!" 2B exclaimed as he sat there with a hand on his hip.

"Sorry 2B..." Deimos said, looking up from playing with his fingers.

Hank sat there with their arms crossed, acting like it wasn't their fault they were gone for so long.

After a moment 2B sighed. "I hate that I can't stay mad at you both..." 

Hank huffed out a laugh. "You've gotten soft." He said.

2B glared at Hank and he kicked a rock at him. "Say's you, Hank. You spent the last however many hours teaching Deimos how to shoot a gun." 2B said, but the smile behind his mask was painfully obvious. 

Hank kicked a rock back at 2B. "Don't kick your stupid rocks at me old man." Hank said, mocking 2B's stance and placing his hands on his hips and Deimos followed his lead.

"You motherfucker." 2B gave Hank a playful punch on the shoulder.

Hank returned the punch until it dissolved into rough housing, Deimos standing by and laughing so hard he collapsed.

Deimos was about to sit up but a hand grabbed him by the ankles and lifted him into the air upside down.

"Hey! Put me down!!" Deinos cried, twisting and turning as he glared daggers at Hank who only laughed at his attempts at escaping and punching them in the stomach.

Hank's face under his mask was aching from the smile on his face.

He's glad Deimos finally warmed up to him...

Chapter Text

Hank adjusted the headphones on his head that Deimos had given him.

He had said that contacting him on missions was a pain in the ass when a beat up walkie talkie was all he had, so he scratched up a pair of headphones for him to wear and god, they were annoying. Hank almost had a new found respect for Deimos always wearing those stupid school handout headphones he wore.

Key word almost.

"Ay, Hank! Can you hear me?" Deimoses voice broke through Hank's thoughts making them wince.

"Yeah..." Hank replied.

"Great! I'm sure you know the drill, yeah? Just don't take off the headphones." Deimos said, a stern tone underlying his cheerful way of speaking.

Hank groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Ohh poor Hanky Wanky~ Can't handle a small pair of headphones, boo hoo." Deimos put on a mocking tone, snickering as they growled in frustration.

"You'll get use to it you big baby, now get going." Deimos said, going silent.

Hank sighed as they stalked forward towards the building, peering around the corner at some agents, cigarettes hanging out of their mouths lazily as they spoke. 

"Heard that Jacob was supposed to be getting 'laid off' soon." One spoke, blowing out a puff of smoke as they looked at the other who threw up their eyebrows from behind their shades.

"Awe damn, really? I liked the bloke despite em' bein' a stubborn arse. Can't say m' to surprised though. Ain't really that good with the guns." They replied, shrugging their shoulders.

"How do you think their gonna break the news?" He asked, tossing his cigarette to the ground as he stepped it out.

"Same way they always do I reckon. Good ol' fashioned bullet to the head. Ya' headin' back in?" They questioned.

The other man nodded. "See you in a bit." He waved as he entered the building, leaving the other vulnerable.

Hank took no time grabbing the agent, covering their mouth to muffle the panicked scream as he brought a knife through their throat and dropped their lifeless body to the ground. 

They made their way inside, making their way behind the other agent before grabbing him and doing the same as they did to his partner.

One by one the agents dropped like flies and somewhere in the fray an agent had snagged on the radio on his hip, changing it's frequency and essentially loosing contact with Deimos...

Great.

Deimos never taught him to fix that, so he stood there fiddling with it, cringing at the loud noise of static and muffled voices that bled through the noise, until he found... Something.

It was playing music, something Hank hadn't heard in a looong time. It felt good to hear something again...

He didn't bother to fix it. 

Before they knew it he was bobbing his head to the rhythm of the song as he walked through the building.

Letting himself fall into a rhythm with the song, spinning and dancing with it as he dodged knives and fists with ease.

He grabbed the last remaining agent that was left defenceless, holding back a laugh at the gasp they let out as he spun them around.

Hank could practically hear the thoughts going through the agents mind as they stared up at him, sitting here pressed up against Hank J. Wimbleton being forced to dance with him for his entertainment. Hank found it absolutely delightful.

They'd never say it out loud, but they were surprised how easily some dumb agents would be able to fall into their rhythm and keep up, easily falling into twirls and pace changes. Credit where credit is due, agents could dance.

When the song was ending they were left being dipped by Hank, his hand firmly pressed in the middle of their back and the other on their arm, which he slowly let go of.

And just like that, Hank pulled his gun and shot the agent, feeling them go limp in his arms he dropped them onto the floor.

Hank stared down at the mess of mangled corpses that surrounded him until he felt something smack the back of his head.

They turned, glaring and bringing up their gun until they realized who was standing there.

Deimos...

Hank's face went red under his mask as he pulled down the headphones, staring at Deimos who had his arms crossed.

"How long have you been standing there...?" Hank asked, already dreading the answer.

"About the entire time you spent doin' the tango with an agent." Deimos replied, his face breaking into a grin as he held back his laughter. "I came in here cause I lost contact with you and you were taking longer than usual, but I didn't expect you to be dancing around like you were inna musical."

Hank glared at Deimos.

"Shut it. Keep this between us, got it?" Hank said, pointing threateningly at Deimos to emphasize his point, but all it got was a loud bark of laughter from the shorter man.

"Oh my god! Hell no! This is fuckin' great!" Deimos said as he kept laughing. 

Hank's face was on fire as Deimos kept laughing so hard he collapsed.

Hank ran a hand down his face as he sighed heavily.

"Fuck you, Deimos." 

Chapter Text

How long had it been? 3 months? 

Deimos lost count and quite honestly could care less.

He was sitting with 2B in the place they had constructed into what they called their living room in the old holed up base they had found.

He was listening intently as 2B explained what he was doing, teaching Deimos all the ins and outs about his coding, occasionally letting Deimos take over for some hands on experience and Deimos loved all of it.

He could do so much and watching that he could easily just open things with just a few lines of symbols and numbers amazed him to no end, watching machines that were connected to the old dusty laptop respond and function just because he typed what looked like gibberish was so satisfying it left him just kicking his feet and hands in his overwhelming excitement.

He didn't expect that getting kidnapped from his base would be something good for him.

He was taught to fear Hank J. Wimbleton, shoot with the intent to kill and die trying.

Now here he was, living in the same base as him and taking shooting lessons often and how to fight even better than what the agency could teach him.

"Hey, you listening?" 2B asked, gently setting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him.

"Huh? Oh! Uh, what was that?" Deimos turned to look up at 2B.

"I said there's a box out in the storage out there labeled USB's. They should be pretty close to the entrance and it's written on the box." 2B said, gesturing in the direction of the storage unit.

"Oh! Yeah, I can do that!" Deimos stood up from the old couch and made his way out of the base, stepping outside and making his way to the storage unit, pausing when he noticed the door was already open.

"Probably Hank again..." Deimos thought as he shrugged and stepped in, scanning the array of boxes for the one he was told to get.

As he walked further in he stopped, hearing boxes shuffling around in the back of the unit.

"Haank...? That you?" Deimos called out, stepping forward cautiously, hand hovering over the knife on his hip.

He felt himself break into a cold sweat when there was no response. That was never a good sign.

Deimos opened his mouth to call out again, but broke over into a high pitched squeal as an arm wrapped around his neck, putting him in a choke hold and holding him in place as he thrashed.

A million thoughts a minute flew through Deimoses head as he did. Was it the agency coming to get him again? Those cannibals that lived on the outskirts of Nexus City find there way here? A random grunt with an urge to kill?

Deimos pushed those into the back of his mind, using his leg to kick his attacker in their shins, their grip loosening enough for him to slip away and wrestle them to the ground, ignoring the pains from hits and scratches they fought,  until Deimos found himself under them, hand gripping their neck and the knife that was on his hip now in his attackers hand.

"W-WAIT!!" Deimos cried, struggling to get his words out over the hand on his throat he stared up at them, eyes adjusting to the darker unit he realized that it wasn't an agent...

"You're not an agent...?" They asked, tilting their head as they scanned him over for any signs that he might've.

"N-No!! I'm working against them!" Deimos replied, gripping at their hand and trying to pry it off.

After a second they released him, Deimos inhaling so sharply he was left coughing as the person sat on their knees in front of him.

They looked almost the same age as he was, dark brown eyes burning into him skeptically and a bandana with skulls was wrapped messily on their head, black strands of frizzy hair sticking out from under it in some places and on their wrists were 2 dark green bracelets.

"... What's your name?" They asked, finally looking him dead in the eyes, sizing him up carefully and Deimos did the exact same thing.

"I'm Deimos..." Deimos said, rubbing at the red imprint of a hand on his neck uncomfortably. It hurt a lot worse than he thought it would...

They didn't reply for a moment, staring at him like he was considering his options.

"I'm Sanford." 

"A great first meeting there Sanford." Deimos said, holding out his hand for him to shake.

Sanford had hesitated but he eventually shook his hand back.

"Couldn't agree more." Sanford replied, a small smile twitching it's way onto his lips.

Deimos nodded, staying silent for a moment after Sanford had let his go.

"Sooooo... Why our storage unit?" Deimos asked, looking up at Sanford who glanced away.

"We live in Nevada, what kind of question is that? Take anything you can carry." Sanford said, crossing his arms.

"That's fair..." He replied.

The more they talked the more they learned.

Deimos had found out Sanford was 11, just a few months younger than him, and he had been on his own for a few months now.

Sanford explained he had learned a good majority of his skills from his mother, who turned out to be an ex professional boxer, which explained why Deimos was still aching from the punches that Sanford had landed on him. 

They went on for hours, sitting on the floor of an old dusty storage unit just getting to know each other, mostly Deimos just bringing Sanford out of his shell as he asked things he was willing to answer.

They were so caught up that neither noticed a person standing in the doorway.

"Deimos!" 2B called, walking closer and his hand hovered near his gun.

They both jumped, Sanford going to stand up and defend himself but Deimos stopped him.

"Wait, wait, wait! I can explain! Don't shoot!" Deimos exclaimed, standing up and infront of Sanford.

2B moved his hand away from his gun, staring at Deimos as he waited to hear it.

"This is Sanford! He was in here cause he thought it was abandoned! He's nice I swear!" Deimos said, fumbling over his words as he tried to get them out as fast as possible.

2B stared for a second before he sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he mumbled something under his breath that Deimos could vaguely understand as "Another kid out here in Nevada?"

"Sanford, was it?" 2B asked, looking over them both as Sanford stood and nodded with a hum of confirmation.

2B was silent for a moment as he crossed his arms and drummed his fingers on his arm, something he often did when analyzing things, most likely analyzing if the bloody bandages on Sanford's shoulders and legs were fresh or not.

"Alright, alright. You two boys come with me, you need to be fixed up. Deimos, you're helping." 2B said as he beckoned them both to follow him.

Deimos quickly trailed behind him, Sanford hesitating as he followed soon after.

Deimos turned to Sanford, giving him a big grin.

"You'll love it here I promise." Deimos said, trying his best to comfort his new friend.

And he did calm him down.

Because Sanford slowly smiled back at him.

Chapter Text

When Hank came back and found out Deimos managed to befriend another kid and 2B willingly decided to adopt another, to say they were disappointed was an understatement.

2B spent a good few hours going back and forth with Hank about discussion of supplies and how having to keep an eye on more kids so they don't almost loose a finger like Deimos did was going to give him a headache, but 2B came out on top of their argument and Sanford stayed, which both boys were ecstatic about.

Of course, Hank grew use to it pretty easily. Sanford was a big change of pace from Deimos at first, as he was more laid back than the other and did things without much argument but he was certainly a welcomed change, as apposed to Deimos who could smooth talk his way out of just about everything Hank and 2B asked him to do.

Where'd he learn to do that anyway?

Hank especially complained about having to get up at some odd hour of the night to tell the two to knock off the laughing and get their asses in bed or they'd regret it.

But, that was all a while ago.

"You're 14 now you two, you have to go on one eventually. Hank will need your help with the supplies!" 2B said, frowning at the two boys in front of him.

"Aww come on! I don't wanna just sit in a truck!" Deimos complained, setting his face in his hand.

"You can deal with it for a few hours." 2B replied.

"It doesn't sound to terrible." Sanford said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Of course you'd say that you suck up." Deimos said, looking up at Sanford, only getting a glare in return.

"Your going whether you like it or not. End of story. Now start getting ready." 2B commanded, crossing his arms.

Deimos sighed. "Whatever you say dad." He said, setting his face on the table.

2B nodded, satisfied he went to find Hank, who was getting ready, strapping a knife holster onto their thigh.

"Almost ready?" 2B asked, tilting his head as he leaned onto the door frame.

Hank nodded.

"You really think it's a good idea to bring them?" Hank asked as he looked up.

2B nodded. "It's good to get them accustomed to it. They know how to fight since we've taught them well, if anything goes wrong I trust they'll be alright." He said.

Hank only nodded in agreement.

"Ready?" Hank asked as Deimos and Sanford approached them.

"Yeah, I guess." Deimos said.

"Ready as I'll ever be." Sanford replied, clearly a lot more excited.

Hank nodded, motioning them to get into the truck as he climbed into the drivers seat.

As Hank climbed in, they watched Deimos shove a tape into the radio and cranked up the volume.

They flinched back as a woman started screaming through the speakers followed by a guitar.

They sighed and started the truck. At least they'd only have to deal with it for a few hours...

Hank stopped the radio, much to Deimos and Sanford's disappointment.

"We need to be quiet, to much noise will alert them. You both will stay out here, when I've cleared out the building I'll come get you to help with supplies." " Hank said.

Deimos and Sanford nodded.

Hank gathered his guns and weapons and double checked his ammos and left to go on his killing spree, leaving Deimos and Sanford alone in the truck.

The two sat in silence, Sanford watching Deimos pull out paper from his backpack and start drawing.

They shared occasional laughs and comments over some of the dumb drawings Deimos did, mostly making fun of 2B and Hank, but after a few more minutes, it got boring.

"I'm bored." Deimos said, kicking his feet onto the dashboard and sighing.

"Me to... How much longer you think their gonna be?" Sanford said, sprawled out in the back seat.

"Knowing them, a good 5 hours. He's slow as all hell." Deimos replied.

They were silent for a moment until Deimos spoke again.

"Remember that plan we came up with while we were getting ready?" Deimos asked, turning in his seat to look at Sanford.

Sanford though for a moment before it finally clicked.

"Oh god. Don't tell me you actually want to go in there on our own. Are you fucking stupid?" Sanford asked, frowning as Deimoses grin grew.

"Hank would have killed everyone in our way already. I'll meet you in there!" Deimos grabbed his gun and opened the door, hopping out of the truck and walking towards the building, hearing Sanford run after him after a few moments.

Deimos smiled up at Sanford who shook his head in disappointment.

"Nervous?" Deimos asked.

"No duh, of course I am and so are you." Sanford said, gesturing to the way Deimos fidgeted with the dark green bracelet on his wrist that Sanford had given him. 

Deimos rolled his eyes. "We don't have a reason to be nervous, I mean, really, how bad could it possibly be?" 

It was bad.

Deimos and Sanford were left speechless as soon as they entered, bodies piled the floor, blood splattered on walls and agents beaten beyond recognition. 

They pulled their guns, giving each other a look of reassurance before they wandered further in, Deimos pointing his gun at every body they passed.

"Their good as dead, Dei. I don't think their coming back from this." Sanford said.

"You say that but you never know..." Deimos replied, staring intensely at a body he swore he saw move.

"I think you've been watching to many old zombie movies with Hank." Sanford chuckled as Deimos glared at him.

"Shut your trap, Sand." Deimos said, grinning as Sanford rolled his eyes at the nickname.

They continued through the rooms, occasionally grabbing weapons to keep incase of an emergency, which Deimos doubted would happen but Sanford had always told him better safe than sorry.

Deimos and Sanford froze at the sound of guns.

They peered around a corner and there stood Hank, who grabbed an agent and stomped onto their head, killing them after a few hits.

"Jebus Christ-" Sanford whispered, flinching slightly as a crunch of broken ribs echoed the room.

"Yeah..." Deimos replied, not managing to get another word out as he watched the scene in front of him.

When Hank was sure the last agent was dead, he moved to another room, allowing Deimos and Sanford to finally let go of the breath they were holding.

"How does he never get hurt?" Deimos asked after a moment, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to process it.

"They've probably been doing this before we were even born Dei. I think you'd get pretty good at it eventually." Sanford replied, taking a step into the room to look at the damage.

"It's either that or the agency is just that bad... I use to work for em' so I can say for a fact it's the second option." Deimos said, kicking an agents hand out of his way as he walked.

Sanford hummed. "What was it like?" 

Deimos was silent for a moment, chewing on his lip as he thought.

"Hell. They don't give you a damn break and I was grouped with the biggest assholes imaginable. I was kidnapped and forced to train along with my brother and it..." Deimos slowly trailed off as he sighed heavily. "I'm ranting... Just know that it was tiring. I'd rather cut off my hand wit' a dull knife." He said.

Sanford nodded, taking a moment to take in what he said.

"Hey, maybe we'll be able to take down this whole operation one day at least! We've got that going for us." Sanford said, giving Deimos a bright smile.

Deimos gave him an appreciative one back.

It was cut short though as a bullet whizzed past Deimoses head, making him yelp and turn around, he felt his heart drop.

There stood a group of agents, guns pointed at them and already firing again.

Sanford let out a panicked yell, fumbling to find his gun and shoot back, an agent he shot in the head collapsing to the ground.

Deimos cursed under his breath, pulling out his he started firing, one by one they fell.

The last one standing fired one more time before Deimos killed him.

He turned to Sanford, a giant grin of pride on his face but it quickly melted away as he saw Sanford gripping his shoulder

"Shit! San, you alright!?" Deimos rushed forward and moved his hand, being met with a bullet wound that left blood trailing down his shoulder and staining his shirt.

"M' fine. Don't worry about it." Sanford said, moving away from Deimos a little.

"Think you can keep going?" Deimos asked, tilting his head.

"Yeah." He replied.

After a few minutes they moved on, taking a different route than Hank to avoid running into them, slowly exploring and listening for any agents to avoid any more bullets getting lodged in them. 

At least they were enjoying themselves, much more than they would have in that stupid truck. Deimos had stolen a few pens and papers from offices along with some devices he planned on disassembling later. 

The best thing they had found was a hole in the wall area within the complex called 'The Rift.' Inside they found it was a clothes store, which the two happily indulged in.

Deimos found a new hat, a belt with more places to hold various guns, and finally a tie to tie back his unruly hair that was driving him nuts.

Sanford found a new bandana, a pair of shades, and a pair of camo shorts with many pockets and another tool belt.

Sanford was left laughing as Deimos paraded around in a pair of shades from an agent.

"OOoO we think weee're soooooo great! With our shit aim and bad self defense!" Deimos mocked, trying and failing to hold back his laughter.

"Aa! Stop! It hurts!" Sanford yelled, clutching his stomach as he laughed.

Deimos wheezed, trying to fight back his coughs.

After a few minutes they both calmed down, taking a deep breath Sanford sighed

"Hey... You think we should start heading back to the truck? If Hank gets through here faster than we think he will, we'll be good as dead." Sanford said, tossing off the printed tee and fixing the white tank top he wore.

Deimos bit his lip as he thought, before finally replying.

"Yeah. Maybe we can convince Hank that some agents wandered over and one shot you." He replied as he threw his shades into the bin, grabbing his gun and following Sanford to the door. 

"If they don't fall for it?" Sanford looked down at Deimos who shrugged. 

"Then we butter em' up so he'll feel the need to back us up!" Deimos grinned up at him.

Sanford shrugged. "Yeah, alright. If not I'm putting all the blame on you though." 

Which earned him a slap on the back of the head.

"Ow! Hey!" Sanford hissed as he rubbed the spot Deimos had smacked him.

"Serves you right. 2B would murder me!" Deimos huffed as he opened the door, though he had a playful glint in his eyes that made Sanford chuckle.

BANG

Deimos jolted and hissed a curse under his breath, another bang following as Sanford put a bullet through the agents head.

"Shit! You alright?" Sanford asked as he moved Deimoses hand from his arm, the sleeve of his jacket turning a dark shade of gray as it absorbed the blood from the wound.

"Hh. Yeah. I've dealt with worse, really." Deimos said as he went back to clutching his arm, trying to fight off the burning sensation that spread across it.

"Right. Good." Sanford stepped out first and pulled Deimos along, not letting go of his shoulder as they sped walked through the building.

Walking to the elevator they came from, he pushed the button and heard a soft 'ding' as it reached their floor.

Deimos barely had time to process the multiple agents in the elevator before he was jerked into sprinting alongside Sanford, running as bullets rang out behind them and angry shouting.

"Change of plans!" Sanford panted out beside him as they busted into the stairwell. "We'll see if we can loose them!"

Deimos didn't bother replying, grabbing onto the railing as he slipped on the blood splattered along the stairs and walls.

Deimos paused as he looked at the engineer slumped in the corner, mask cracked and body beaten savagely, blood still trailed down the walls, not yet dry.

"Hank's around here!" Deimos called out as he caught up with Sanford, who stiffened but frowned. 

"I'd rather get caught by Hank then die from some stupid agents!" Sanford replied.

Turning a corner they skidded to a halt.

Great! Just what they needed.

More engineers!

Turning on their heels they pushed open the door behind them, ending up on the 2nd roof of the stair shaped building. 

Sanford was already shooting the agents that were on the roof, yelling out curses and taunts as he filled them with bullets.

Deimos grabbed his and followed his lead, laughing at the occasional insults.

Deimos grinned at an engineer that threw it's now empty gun, pulling out a knife and looking over at Deimos.

"Hey fucknuts! Come at me!" Deimos taunted, pulling out his own knife.

The engineer growled, rushing at him faster than Deimos was expecting but met them head on, grabbing the hand wielding the knife and bringing up his own, sticking it into their chest and giving it a harsh tug as he pulled back to shove the knife into the engineer's head but a gloved hand grabbed his wrist.

The engineer in front of him stared down at him.

This wasn't good...

Deimos struggled against them, kicking and pulling away from them but halted as the engineer started forcing him back, leaving Deimos only able to go with the larger person.

Deimos opened his mouth to insult the other but a knee to the stomach knocked the wind out of him and the hands on his wrist disappeared.

With one harsh shove, the engineer pushed him off the roof of the building, sending Deimos plummeting to the concrete below. 

Chapter Text

Deimos gasped as he pulled himself from the rubble, he coughed violently, smoke and dust overwhelmed his senses making his eyes water and lungs burn.

Hank.

Where's Hank?

He pulled himself to his feet, stumbling to regain his balance.

Squinting through the dust and smoke he spotted him.

Standing with his back to him and looking over the carnage he had caused.

Hank.

His hands shook by his sides as his rage flared to life.

Grabbing the shotgun strapped to his back he stumbled forward, an occasional gasp escaping past his lips as he did, his eyes not once leaving the man infront of him.

As he got closer Hank turned towards him, his expression blank.

They stared at each other in silence, until finally, Hank spoke.

"Deimos." He said, staring down at the shorter the corner of his eyes wrinkled, indicating the smile that made it's way onto Hank's face.

"You son of a bitch!" Deimos rasped, clicking the safety off his gun he glared. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" 

Hank turned to him fully, hands in his pockets as he looked at him.

"When I told you I'd take down Project Nexus at all cost I meant that." Hank stated calmly.

"I know you meant that but not at the cosT OF KILLING US!" Deimos said, his voice rising as his anger grew.

Sanford was as good as gone, Hank had fought Jeb and pushed him out the window of the building.

Before they could even react Hank had went off on the core.

Deimos shouted in panic, Sanford beside him in anger.

Before they knew it the core had let out a groan as it shook and heated up.

Before they knew it the tower had come collapsing down around them.

It all happened so fast.

One minute Sanford was holding his hand and the next there was no one attached to said hand.

God it made him sick to his stomach...

Hank only hummed, glancing down at Deimoses body, taking in his injuries.

"You're bleeding out." Hank said, finally looking Deimos in the eyes.

"No thanks to you, asshole!" Deimos snapped. "When you came crawling out of that agency building where we found you, you were just some quiet guy with dumb fuckin' glasses n' a barely workin' gun. We helped you and let you join our cause instead of killin' you and this is how you repay us!? What went through that fuckin' head of yours to think THIS would help anything!?" 

Hank was silent, his hands shook by his sides as he stared down at him.

They weren't shaking with rage like Deimos was though.

He was excited.

Deimos scoffed. "Oh, you like this don't chu, Hank? Getting some sick rise out of seeing your teammates die?" He hissed out, tightening the grip on his gun as his arms started to feel like stones.

God, he was so tired... 

"Why are you monologuing? No one's here to listen to you. If your going to kill me, do it before you bleed out." Hank said, his voice giving nothing away as he crouched down to Deimoses level, staring down the barrel of the shotgun he held with no hesitation or fear.

Deimos stared into the cold blue eyes of his as he removed his goggles to properly look Deimos in the eyes.

"I fucking hate you. You're sick." Deimos said, glaring harder as Hank stared on, simply letting him have his moment.

"Why are you just accepting this? Not gonna fight me like a man, Hank?" Deimos spoke once more, venom dripping from his words.

"I did what I was made to do. What else is there to do when our biggest threat is gone and Nevada is unrepairable? Keep fighting for nothing and inevitably die when this place runs out of resources?" Hank replied simply.

Deimos stayed silent, staring at Hank who only looked back.

"Fuck you." Deimos snapped.

Without letting Hank speak again

He pulled the trigger...

Chapter Text

It hurt.

God it hurt so bad.

Where am I?

His body was shaking, breath heaving out in ragged gasps, he couldn't see, eyes sealed shut by something.

Sheriff groaned and scrubbed at his eye, hissing under his breath at the sting his eye cracked open, staring up at the ceiling.

This.

He recognized this place.

Sheriff's office.

His office.

Turning his head to the side slowly he squinted through the dark room.

It took him a minute, squinting through the dark he realized what it was.

A body.

A dead one at that.

Sheriff jumped, attempting to push himself up in his panic.

He immediately regretted it, tripping over himself and slipping on the cold tiles he landed back on the ground.

Inhaling deeply he tried desperately to calm himself, he's seen dead bodies before and was no stranger to it at all, but waking up to the disfigured body of someone was something else.

Pulling himself into a sitting position he leaned against the wall.

His head...

God, it hurt.

It muddled his thoughts, trying desperately to ignore it as sent waves of pain through his skull.

Setting a hand on his face he jolted, gasping as his face stung and better yet half of it wasn't even there.

No.

No no no no no!

This had to be a dream. A bad one. A nightmare he'd wake up from soon, he'll be in bed waking up to his dog greeting him with morning kisses, he'd walk her and he'd go to work. That's exactly what was going to happen...

Sheriff hoped and prayed.

Tears stung his eye and he shook violently from his place.

He had to get up. He can't stay here in this room. It was drafty anyway.

Placing his hands firmly on the wall, on shaking legs he stood, leaning all his weight onto the wall and he started to hobble along it.

The door opened with a loud noise that made Sheriff wince, dragging himself into the office he leaned against the wall.

He only walked a few paces and he was already wanting to collapse and fall asleep and at this point he'd be thankful if it were forever.

Anything is better than here. Anything is better than Nevada.

He scanned the room carefully, spotting the one thing he knew he should avoid.

The mirror.

Slowly he pushed away from the wall, slowly trudging across the room he grabbed the framed mirror from the wall and slid onto the floor.

Taking a deep breath, he looked...

All he could do was stare.

That wasn't him.

It couldn't be.

Whoever in the mirror staring back at him was, they made him ill.

Sheriff had a good face, though certainly he was no model he would consider himself an attractive man.

Whatever he was looking at, it wasn't him.

Sheriff didn't have half of his face ripped off from a gun, teeth poking out through the angry red flesh that was exposed to the air and he had 2 eyes, both a shade of light brown, not one that was widened in horror.

He didn't know how long he stared, but his blurring vision helped snap him out of it, blinking the tears from his eye he looked back down.

It was horrible.

Sheriff felt the static pins and needles in his limbs melt away and instead was replaced with a shiver and a horrible feeling building in the back of his throat.

Shit...

Sheriff gagged, dropping the mirror aside with a clatter his body tensed and shook as another gag shook his body, moving as fast as his body would let him he grabbed the trashcan from his desk.

For once Sheriff was thankful for having an empty stomach but the tang of acid on his tongue was still just as bad...

He sat there for what felt like forever until he pushed the trashcan away and leaned back again.

What now?

Or better yet, WHY now?

Why did he live? Did he die and come back?

The man that killed him, or more like tried to, was given a second chance to come back and now he was being given the same treatment.

He didn't want this...

His medical knowledge was limited, knowing CPR and how to stop bleeding was as far as his training went but he most definitely knew he shouldn't be alive.

He'd seen the crazy things the body can do and surviving a blast to the face as this would be a damn miracle.

Fixing it would take a miracle to...

With a shaking hand he grabbed the mirror again, staring at the thing that looked back at him carefully.

How.

How could he fix this?

The first aid kits...

Looking up at the opposite wall the small box that hung on the wall he let out a sigh as it hasn't been stolen.

Dragging himself up he retrieved the kit and slid down to the ground, struggling to open it for a minute before the lid lifted.

 Scanning the items, he paused.

How the hell is he supposed to fix this? Where does he start?

Cleaning it seemed like a good start.

He prayed to whatever might be left out there that the bottles of water he kept in his desk were still there, crawling forward he pulled it open.

Perfect.

Grabbing one he eased back into his original position.

Pulling off the cap he took a deep breath.

It stung. 

It made him shiver and pull back, cold water washing over the places that weren't normally exposed was nowhere near pleasant. 

Pulling off his vest he dried up the water and the touches to his face left him wincing and moving his face to frown and grit his teeth burned horribly.

Looking into the mirror once more, it only helped a little...

Progress was progress he supposed.

The dry crusted blood that covered his face was washed away, the bit of water that had spilled on the floor was a shade of pink from it all.

And now that his vest was off, his white dress shirt was practically not even red anymore, being stained a now ugly brown from the blood that covered it.

When he fully patched himself up he made note to find new clothes...

Looking into... His reflection, he stared, digging around in the first aid kit to pull out a needle.

Sheriff had no idea how to stitch flesh back together. He could sew clothes back together, so it had to be similar to that, right?

Sheriff could only hope so as he quite painfully put whatever still was attached back into place and started to stitch himself back together, every time the needle pierced his skin and tugged it together sent him reeling, inhaling sharply each time and he had to stop himself from pulling away out of instinct at the stings over particularly sensitive areas.

He wasn't sure how long it was but to him it felt like years.

Painful years.

Sheriff was glad he had steady hands, his work wasn't on par with a professional doctor but it was enough to not look as bad as it started.

Some parts he couldn't fit together or some just couldn't be undone. If he could summon new eyes and let alone working ones, it'd be hell of a lot better.

He threw the needle aside, to tired to care at this point.

Sheriff slowly lifted himself from the ground.

If he died, how long had it been?

All he could hope that his computer still worked...

He pressed a few buttons and the computer whirred to life.

Thank god.

The bright screen assaulted his eye making him wince, squinting at the screen.

HELLO, JESSE 

Slowly he searched the screen.

9/10/2003

It's only been a day...

Sheriff wanted to hope it would've been longer, really, but he supposed it was better, any longer and he'd been in even worse shape...

Sheriff didn't want to know how he was back. He was to scared of the answer.

As to why...

He wanted to know, but he'd probably be getting no answers soon...

So he was at a loss...

Phobos and the Auditor!

They didn't bring him back he was sure, but he couldn't stay in his station.

Slowly getting up, he searched for at least something to defend himself out there.

He was in no condition to go out and trek to the city, he knew this fully and didn't even want to, but he'd probably die of something else before he could leave, so he took his chances.

He hobbled off to the front of the building, reaching for the door he paused at a note left on the front.

"WELCOME BACK!~"

Written in a neat cursive that he knew he recognized just a little to well...

As the door slid open, an agent looked up at him, eye's widening just slightly behind their glasses.

"Sheriff... We were requested by Phobos to retrieve you."

He was really wishing he could have stayed dead...

Chapter Text

Beep

Beep

Beep

Beep

Sheriff groaned and shut off the alarm, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and opening them he rolled over onto his back.

He stared at his ceiling, just fighting off the urge to fall back asleep but the jingle of tags alerted him to someone entering the room...

Lady.

She hopped onto the bed, oh so kindly landing right on his stomach and crushing all his organs.

"Ow, Lady!" Sheriff exclaimed, trying to push the mutt off but to no avail, she flopped right onto him and started giving him his does of morning kisses, much to his dismay.

Shielding his face with his arms he sputtered, until she finally calmed down enough for him to pet her.

"Must you?" Sheriff sighed out as she rolled over off him and presenting her belly, tail wagging a mile a minute as Sheriff happily obliged. 

Sheriff finally sat up and stretched, yawning and Lady yawning soon after him, hopping off the bed and trotting down the hallway out of sight.

He sighed and pulled himself out of bed, only bothering to throw on house pants and a shirt before he walked out of his room.

Lady shuffled in her spot by her food bowl, tail wagging as she waited for her breakfast, which Sheriff did, putting food in her bowl and settling it down she stared up at him. 

"Okay, good girl." Sheriff said, smiling as she turned to start eating her food.

Sheriff walked into the kitchen and started his coffee and started towards the front door.

Opening it, in came the fat bastard himself.

"Mornin' Deputy." Sheriff greeted, reaching down and petting the cat under his chin.

His eyes closed and a purr rumbled in his throat as he leaned into it, stripped tail pointing straight into the air.

Sheriff sat up and made his way into the kitchen, Deputy following right behind him and screaming as loud as his cat lungs would let him.

"Will you shut yer' trap? I'm getting it!" Sheriff scolded and glared at the cat at his feet, tripping him up as he tried getting his food.

Deputy continued to yell until finally Sheriff tripped his way over to the cat tree, setting it down Deputy hopped up and started eating.

Finally. Silence...

Sheriff went back to his room, pulling out his uniform and settling it on the dresser.

He paused as the coffee machine beeped, going back out and making his coffee.

He leaned back against the counter, taking a drink and watching as Deputy strutted in.

"What're lookin' at, bastard?" Sheriff asked, staring the cat down as he looked at him. "You ain't gettin' any coffee. You won't even like it." 

Deputy walked over and rubbed against his legs, purring away as Sheriff looked down at him.

He leaned down and pet him, watching him roll onto the floor and purr away.

After a minute he sat back up and went back to his coffee, not wanting it to get cold and ignoring Deputy as he did.

Until he felt the bastard bite his foot.

"Ay! What's with you n' doin' that?!" Sheriff scolded, glaring at Deputy who simply purred in delight.

"You're the worst." Sheriff mumbled, sipping from his coffee as Deputy curled into a loaf on the floor by his feet and watched him.

Weird cat...

Lady strutted in and sniffed at Deputy, who growled at her and hissed as she gave him sloppy kiss on his head, hissing he jumped onto the counter.

Normally, Sheriff would tell him off for being on the counter but for once he'd let it pass...

After taking his meds he made his way to the shower, Deputy following right behind him.

After brushing his teeth and heating up the water he stepped in, after a few minutes of zoning out he finally started to wash himself and trying to ignore the paw that shoved it's self under the shower curtain smacking at his ankles.

Hopping out of the shower he glared at Deputy who laid on the floor by the shower who acted like he didn't try and attack his ankles for the past 15 minutes.

Entering his room and trying to dry out his long unruly hair without tangling it he put it in a ponytail and started getting dressed.

"Damnit... Deputy, were you bappin' round my damn name tag again?" Sheriff looked at the cat sprawled out on his pillow, the brown tabby's ears only twitching to indicate he heard him.

Sighing he searched the floor, eventually finding it under the bed.

JESSE J. CIRKS

Pinning the name tag to his vest he stood and looked at himself in the mirror before deciding he was presentable for today he gave Deputy a kiss on his forehead and he walked out of the room.

Lady looked up from her spot on the couch and wagged her tail as Sheriff put on his boots.

"I'll walk ya' when I get back, alright girl?" Sheriff said, smiling as Lady hopped up and walked over to Sheriff.

Giving her a forehead kiss as well he stood and gathered his things.

"C'ya later good girl! Watch the house fir me!" Sheriff called.

And with that, he shut the door and started his car, going to his job down at the Sheriff's office.

Chapter Text

Jumping as the radio on his hip beeped, what came through immediately had him groaning.

"Need the Janitor down here by the servers." 

Janitor let out a huff and sat their pencil and book aside. They supposed it'd have to wait another day to finish that drawing...

Gathering their things they trudged their way past injured agents, MAGS, and people reporting to the big boss themselves about how Hank and his gang of gays came and fucked up their plans again.

Kicking open the door they didn't even flinch.

The room smelled overwhelmingly of gunpowder, metal, blood, cigs, and whatever god killing colone these damned agents wore. 

And don't even get him started on the mess...

God, the mess.

Large bits of agent from some guns, broken shards of glasses, bullet casings.

God damn the bullet casings.

They drove him up a fucking wall, always getting stuck under things or in places gun casings shouldn't even be in.

How the fuck did someone manage to get bullet casings in the glass of the damn boob lights on the ceiling anyway?

No matter. With another sigh he grabbed his broom and got to work, wiping up puddles of blood from agents and engineers, which engineer blood was the worst, shit was sticky and stains like hell.

5 minutes in and he was already over it.

The Janitor wasn't small, a good 5'7 which they thought reasonable.

But when you compare that to agents who almost always ranged from 6 foot or higher, it gets tiring to carry their limp bodies of mostly pure muscle to the place he'd have to carry them out later.

With the amount of back problems this shit gave him, he'd might as well be in the damn retirement home at this point...

The only good thing about the job is he gets to shove these agents around. If they track blood on the floors he just cleaned they get a rightfully earned wack on the head with the broom and told to clean it up... He only got this job anyway to pay for his hot dog stand...

Janitor paused at the sound of foot steps, loud ones at that.

Looking up they spotted the MAG. What was his name again?

Tori, Terry?

Oh, wait, Torture...

Or more like something out of his nightmares.

Torture loomed over them in the worst way possible, glasses removed and he'd be staring you down with those red eyes of his and his sharp teeth that poked out slightly over his bottom lip was a charming feature that took away some intimidation factor, it didn't lessen it by much though because the giant nails that came from the guys head and height would leave you trembling all over again.

Torture's eyes scanned the mess of the room, watching the Janitor as they grumbled under their breath. A sad sight, really, watching them scrub away at the engineer blood that stuck to the floor.

It was even sadder watching them struggle with the engineer's body, a good 5 times their size.

Torture sauntered over to the struggling janitor and lifted the engineers body with ease.

The Janitor was confused when the engineer started being lifted in the air. Did they finally get those powers they asked for as a small grunt? Maybe lifting these agents were finally starting to pay off with more than just back pain.

Or maybe the giant agent that they came face to face with.

Janitor had a pretty good grip on that engineer's body, and no way in hell were they letting go now.

Their feet kicked uselessly in the air as he looked at the MAG agent infront of him.

"Can I help you? If you spilled something I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment." Janitor said, their tone hinted with mild annoyance.

Torture shook his head, setting the Janitor in the palm of his oversized hand he put the engineers body in the pile of others and doing the same for all the others.

To say the least, Janitor was rightfully confused.

It wasn't the most uncommon occurrence that they'd get help from agents that even had some manners but MAGS...

MAGs were always the problem, really. Big clumsy guys that were like over sized dogs. Big dogs think they can be lap dogs just how MAGS think they're still a normal grunt. 

And with this dog mentality, they weren't always helpful. In a bad situation a dog would wag it's tail and hope the cute factor would save itself but instead of a tail it was fists and the answer was violence.

Janitor looked up at Torture with pure confusion, but despite all that, he would gladly accept the help if Torture wasn't going to make it worse. 

Torture looked back down at him expectantly.

"What?" Janitor tilted his head.

Torture gestured to the pile of bodies with his hand. 

"Oh! Those go outside. They usually take care of it from there." They said, watching as he scooped up pile with ease and do as Janitor had instructed.

Looking up at Torture he smiled. "Thanks for the help big guy, saving me from a good month of back problems."

Torture let out a purr of confirmation.

Lifting them up with his other hand, Torture sat them back on the ground gently, clawed finger pushing back on their head in a strange pet before he drew his hands back.

MAGs and their strange ways of displaying affection...

Beckoning the beast down, they reached up and returned the favor by giving him a good head petting.

"If it isn't to much to ask, mind helping me and lifting these boxes so I can get under them?" Janitor asked, tilting his head at the over sized agent.

Lifting his head, he reached over and picked up a box.

Smiling up at the agent he made quick work of sweeping in it's place.

They both spent the rest of the day together cleaning up that room and even more time together at lunch in the hot dog stand he ran and they had a great time.

Chapter Text

I'm sorry.

I never thought it'd turn out this way and I owe you an apology. 

Christoff, I have failed you.

When you came to me and told me of your plans I was mortified. I could have never done or even thought of doing something like that. Go against our director that used your sleeper program to rise to a living deity on earth. 

When Phonos learned of your dissention you were laid off and Dr. Crackpot took your place, the slithering snake waiting to strike as he was. 

Our plans had to be put into action early, but I wasn't ready.

I'd never have been ready.

Project Gestalt, the zeds, the sleepwalkers, the agency and his goons rising and ready to hunt us down at every corner was to much.

When the time came I was a wreck, I remember hand in hand I lead you to the underground checkpoints that would get you to the heart of releasing even more zeds than what they could handle.

Nexus as I had grown to know it was crumbling under my feet and slipping through my fingers faster than I could know it.

Days, nights, even years of our time planning and slaving over this, and we failed.

I failed.

When I died, I remember my life flashed before my eyes and all I could see was you.

The way you'd laugh at my dumb jokes, the way your eyes would light up when something went right and the way you spoke which had always enticed me.

I remember so much about you, and I always will.

I just hope your memories of me are as fond as mine.

I want you to remember those. 

I don't want you to remember what I am now.

Whatever happened to me, it isn't pretty. 

I want you to remember and tell of how I use to be. A happy person who had a passion for science, always wanting to face the unknown and a noble warrior standing up to its tyrants. 

Perhaps you could even forget about me, lock me away in the deepest parts of that brain of yours and convince yourself I'm dead...

Sweetheart, if I do please forgive me. Forgive me if I lose this battle with myself and do unthinkable things. Never would I dream of hurting you.

Look at me, rambling on again... 

With what little of me I have left in this, I board myself up in this tower and dedicate the rest of myself to helping you, my love.

You have killed the director so you can shut down this program for good. 

This is all up to you.

I hope and beg you forgive me for my failures, Jebediah. 

With this final note I words can't express how much you mean to me. I love you and look up to you. Forever I'll be your partner in this hell that has become Nevada. 

Remember, you'll always be my savior.

- Sincerely, Tricky  Dr. Hofnarr 

With shaking hands it sat the pencil down and scanned through the almost barely legible letter.

He could only hope that Christoff would find it. 

Looking down at the tapes piled onto the counter he backed away, his body shaking as it barely managed to contain itself.

Grabbing the keys for the building, they backed towards a window, taking a deep breath they sighed.

"I'm sorry Christoff." He mumbled, turning away he adjusted the jetpack on his back and he stepped out onto the ledge, taking a step off and giving the office one last look before he took off into the air, ignoring the door to his office sliding open.

"Hofnarr, dear? Are you in here..?" 

Chapter Text

Shit.

S h i t.

Deimos felt his heart drop.

This isn't how he dies. No, no! It can't be! A stupid engineer pushing him off a roof. God what a sad way to go.

Deimos twisted and turned in the air, seeing the ground coming at him at alarming speeds.

He closed his eyes and braced himself, tears stung his eyes and...

CRACK

Deimos wheezed as the air was knocked from lungs, static dancing across his vision as his head hit the concrete.

Deimos slowly opened his eyes.

'Holy shit...' Deimos thought. 'I'm alive? I'M ALIVE!!'

He'd have gotten up and jumped for joy right then and there but his body was stiff, refusing to respond to him.

God, the ringing in his ears was just making the headache worse and he was seeing double. 

Just what he needed...

Deimos closed his eyes again, trying desperately to wean off the growing pounding that kept spreading across his entire body.

He must've been there a while, because a pair of hands grabbed him and shook enough out of his daze to look up at the person, his blurred vision making it hard. 

Deimos heard noise that he presumed was them talking, but it was drowned out by ringing and his brain was refusing to process it.

Deimos jolted and groaned out as hands wrapped under his arms and dragged him along, sharp pains shooting through the entire right side of his body.

He opened his mouth to try and get a word out, it was right on the tip of his tongue...

"San...?" Deimos groaned, looking and squinting up at the person dragging him.

A few noises indicated a reply that Deimos wanted to assume was a yes, closing his eyes again he allowed his head to fall limp..

They stopped and he was leaned up against a cool metal that was vibrating gently, which he assumed was an electrical box

Deimos opened his eyes as a cloth was tied tightly around his head.

"Deimos!" Sanford called, setting a hand on his shoulder. He had threw his glasses aside, his eyes wide and looking over him.

"San..? Wh?-" Deimos was cut off by Sanford.

"Oh my god!! You can't do that, you asshole!" Sanford snapped, fat tears rolling down his face as the grip on his shoulders tightened, making Deimos wince.

Deimos didn't have the energy to talk so he lifted his one working arm and held it out.

Sanford hugged him, shoving Deimos into his chest and sniffled, trying to keep his sobs down to avoid getting attention drawn to them.

"M' sorry San..." Deimos muttered after a minute, setting a hand on the others back.

Sanford carefully pulled away and laid Deimos back against the electrical box, wiping his eyes he sniffled again and groaned.

"God..." Sanford groaned.

"Agents?" Deimos questioned.

"They sent more up here. Their probably searching for us." Sanford replied as he joined Deimos in leaning back on the box.

Deimos only hummed and they fell into silence, listening to the shouts as agents were scrambling to find them.

Deimos was starting to shut his eyes and doze off before a loud bang and the firing of guns made him jump.

Sanford tensed beside him and peered out from behind their cover and his eyes widened.

"HANK!!" Sanford shouted, his eyes stung with tears of relief at the sight of them, covered in blood and wielding a sword and gun.

When the last engineer fell Hank turned and stared.

"HANK! OH MY GOD! I-" Sanford started but Hank held up a hand, which was shaking slightly as he did.

He walked over to them and when his eyes met Deimos he froze.

Sanford was shaking like a leaf beside him.

Sanford's tank top was ripped and wrapped around Deimoses head, blood staining the white top red and Hank was most certain that arms don't bend that way.

"What the fuck are you doing in here!? I told you to stay in the truck!" Hank signed sloppily as his hands shook worse.

Never a good sign.

"I- uh- ... Uh- I thought it'd be fun to come in after a while, I got bored." Sanford said, hugging Deimos closer to him.

Deimos was hurt enough. He was willing to take the blame for this.

Hank said nothing. Despite his anger he stepped forward and scooped up Deimos from the ground, careful to avoid his broken arm he held Deimos against him, free hand with a pistol.

Deimos opened his mouth to speak, but one look from Hank was enough for him to flinch back.

Sanford followed closely behind Hank as he started walking, his movements were stiff as he tried not to toss Deimos around and jogging to get back to the truck.

"... Hank, I'm sorry. We got overwhelmed. I thought most of them would be dead by now..." Sanford finally spoke after a few minutes from behind Hank.

A painful silence followed, Hank not even acknowledging that Sanford had spoken.

Deimos turned to look back at Sanford who looked right back, his distress obvious in the way his breathing became heavier trying to hold back his emotions and calm himself down.

They had told him a million times it was alright to cry, but old habits die hard...

Hank gave them the silent treatment the whole way to the truck, motioning for Sanford to climb into the back and sat Deimos down there with him.

Handing him a med kit, he gestured to Deimos and climbed into the drivers seat. 

Sanford hesitated as he brought a hand up and pulled off his ripped tank top from Deimoses head, setting the bloodied cloth aside he started wrapping bandages around his head.

"Sorry San..." Deimos said, looking up at Sanford with an apologetic look.

Sanford looked at him, his face distressed and he shook his head dismissively, letting out a sigh and leaning back in his seat with Deimoses head in his lap.

After a few minutes, they were both passed out in the back seat...

When Deimos opened his eyes he was being shaken awake. Deimos tensed immediately knowing who the person without even having to look at their face, recognizing the heavily tattooed arm that was holding a half melted ice pack.

In front of him stood a very very clearly upset 2B.

"Deimos." Was all he said, his tone made Deimos want to just shrink and disappear from this moment, anything to avoid this.

Slowly he looked at his face.

He looked... So genuinely disappointed. It was just a look and yet Deimos felt so horrible from it he thought he was going to burst into tears.

"Come on, sit up." 2B commanded, helping Deimos into a sitting position carefully before he stepped away, gathering things and various instruments Deimos had only seen a few times, only because the man had used them on Hank many times.

He walked back over and pulled off the bandages Sanford had wrapped around his head.

They were silent as he began cleaning out the wound on his head, inhaling sharply through his teeth at the sting.

"So your giving me the silent treatment to...?" Deimos asked, glancing over at 2B who's expression turned into one of confusion until it clicked.

"No, I'm not giving you the silent treatment, that would be cruel. Hank wasn't either. He doesn't speak when he's distressed. As for me, what do you want me to say?" 2B asked, pulling back to look at Deimos properly.

Deimos drummed his fingers on the table, trying to think but his thoughts still felt fuzzy.

"I thought you were gonna sit here and lecture me for an hour like you do Hank." Deimos said, glancing up at 2B who let out a dry chuckle. "Under different circumstances, I most definitely would. You damn near died, Deimos."

"I think I have a concussion... I wouldn't call that almost dying." Deimos replied. Freezing up as 2B grabbed his good arm and held it out, pointing to the bullet wound on his arm.

"See this bullet hole in your arm here?" 2B asked, to which Deimos nodded.

"Right over here," 2B moved his hand and pointed at a part of his arm by it. "Is your brachial artery. Cutting it or let alone it being shot would've killed you. You nor Sanford are medically trained to deal with that and driving here from that building is a good 2 and a half hours. You'd have bled out by then." 

Deimos stared at the place he was pointing for a moment.

"Oh..." Was all he could say. 

The thought made Deimos shiver. He had watched people bleed out before and he never wanted to go through that. 

2B nodded. "It definitely isn't a good feeling." He said as he walked around the table behind Deimos, angling his head down as he started applying something else to injury on his head.

Deimos never replied, opting to listen to the light clank of the tools on the tray beside him and 2B's heavy breathing as he focused on his work.

2B stepped back infront of Deimos and gave him a reassuring look.

He was already dreading this...

"I'm going to have to set your arm." 2B said.

Deimos let out a sigh. "Alright, fine. Lets get this over with..." He groaned.

Deimos watched as 2B grabbed his arm, his cold hands sending shivers up his spine and taking a deep breath a sharp tingle shot up Deimoses arm as it was sat back in place.

As he wrapped his arm and put the sling around him he gave him a pat on his good shoulder.

"Deimos." 2B looked at Deimos with a stern look.

Ah hell. It was bound to happen eventually.

"Yes?"

2B lowered himself so he was face to face with him. "Promise me you'll never do that again, alright?" 

Deimos took a deep breath and nodded. "Promise." 

"Good. And I think you owe Sanford and Hank an apology. We all know Sanford wouldn't do something like that." 2B said as he stood back up.

Deimos nodded. "I'll go look for them." 

2B shook his head. "You can wait here. I don't want you walking around for now." He said as he turned away from Deimos, already walking out the door to retrieve Hank and Sanford.

Deimos fidgeted in his spot as he waited impatiently. He was almost afraid to face them.

Hell, Deimos thought he was getting off a bit to easily for this... Maybe when he's better he'll do Sanford's chores for a month for scaring him.

Deimos looked up as the door creaked and Sanford peered in, scanning the room before he lit up as his eyes landed on Deimos.

"Deimos! Oh my god, you idiot!" Sanford rushed into the room, ignoring 2B calling after him to crush Deimos in a hug.

Deimos winced but he wrapped an arm around him to hug him back. "You aren't that hurt, are you?" Deimos asked.

Sanford pulled back enough to look at Deimos. "Only a little." Sanford said as he glanced down at his shoulder. "It was just a bullet." 

2B stepped in with Hank following close behind.

"Sanford, don't crush him to death like you do to everyone else. His arm is broken." 2B warned.

Sanford paused and pulled back fully. "Crap... I completely forgot!-" before Sanford could launch into one of his apologetic frenzies Deimos waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine, it's fine! It's not your fault y''know. If anything I should be apologizing to you!" Deimos looked up at Hank who had their arms crossed. "And you as well." 

"I'm still baffled as to how you thought that was a good idea..." Hank sighed, running a hand down their face as they looked at Deimos.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It was dumb and I nearly got myself killed... Sorry for scaring you guys as well... And for getting you hurt San." Deimos said as he looked down at the ground, drumming his fingers on the table nervously.

He flinched as Sanford hugged him again, being cautious of his arm this time. 

"It's fine. But, maybe don't be an idiot next time..." Sanford chuckled and Deimos did as well. "Promise, and I don't make promises I can't keep."

Hank laughed at that. "Yeah, sure..." Hank said as he walked over finally, to which Deimos opened his arm and pulled in Hank for a hug, smiling as Hank pat his head. He loved when he did that. 

The three of them looked over at 2B expectantly, who was just watching this go down and trying not to let his heart melt at the sight of them.

2B gladly joined in on the hug, leaning down to give both boys a forehead kiss, which Deimos was embarrassed and Sanford beamed at.

"I swear, you two will be the death of me..." 2B sighed, the smile under his mask painfully obvious.

"At least we had fun." Deimos said.

"Do that again and I'll ban you from missions until you're twenty." Hank warned.

"No promises." Deimos replied with a big grin, which earned him a small flick in the forehead from Sanford.

Chapter Text

Walking down the street, nothing interesting ever happened, and when it did, it was probably someone attacking Hank for the bounty on his head to help feed their families or just greedy gang members that ran amuck in Lovelock, Nevada. Or, what remained of it.

Today was different though.

Walking down a now long abandoned stretch of street he looked up at a small jingle.

Running from the front porch of a house came an animal.

A cat.

A big fat fluff ball of brown tabby fur with 2 white back paws looking like boots and a dirty red collar with a name tag and bell running at him and meowing.

When it reached them it gave a big stretch and rolled over on their feet, looking up just waiting for some good pets.

Reaching down Hank gave them a pat on the head and flipped it's tag.

'Deputy

Jessie

1-775-x4x-1144'

Deputy... 

Deputy purred and rubbed himself against Hank's legs.

It wasn't often Hank saw animals.

Hell, almost never. They were long gone since the madness started.

As Deputy continued to purr Hank thought long and hard...

And finally decided. 

Lifting Deputy into his arms, he turned on his heel and started walking back to where he came. 

Kicking open the door of his apartment he closed it with his foot and sat down Deputy, who stood as stiff as a board looking at his new surroundings with wide eyes.

Taking off his boots and walking further into the house he left Deputy to get use to the place.

Although Deputy appeared fat, it was mostly fur. He was a little on the boney side and Hank wasn't about to keep it that way. 

They eventually dug out some tuna they stole got from a store. Though not really cat food, it would have to do for now.

Setting it down and calling Deputy over, he left it on the floor for him when he felt comfortable enough to eat.

Hank expected it to be a while, but Deputy tore it apart like it was the best damn thing that's ever been put in front of him.

Hank laughed at the sight and carried on with his usual day of trying to make his falling apart apartment not as horrible. Clean guns, clean shower, wash clothes, all the boring shit.

When it was said and done Hank made himself comfortable laying down on the couch. 

Hank would usually lay down and hope that someone wasn't going to show up at his door for killing the Sheriff or tons of other people, but instead, he found himself being a cat bed...

Deputy had jumped up onto Hank's couch and onto their chest, sitting down and staring at Hank, who looked right back at him.

"What? Don't you know personal space?" Hank asked, though they knew they weren't getting a response any time soon. 

Deputy curled into a ball on Hank's chest and fell asleep like it was his own personal bed, much to Hank's dismay, as his fur tickled their nose.

"Comfortable?" Hank asked, raising a hand to pet Deputy, who lifted his head with a 'brr?' 

Deputy let out a purr and laid down his head again, and Hank left him there, before eventually falling asleep himself.

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.

Chapter Text

2B pulled off the mask from his eye and wiped the blood running into it from his forehead.

A mission.

It was most certainly a mission...

They came out on top in the end but he wouldn't call it successful...

Looking up from his arm he looked at the others.

Deimos had a limp, Sanford had a good gash running down his hip, and minus a few knife wounds they could take care of themselves, Hank was the better out of them all.

2B, much to his dismay, had gotten into a pretty bad scuffle with a soldat, resulting in some pretty bad hits to the face and being a little to close to the explosion for his liking.

"You alright, 2B?" Sanford called.

2B only shot him a thumbs up. His throat and lungs burned as he was doubled over wheezing for oxygen.

He spent so long doing that he didn't hear Sanford approaching him and clasp a hand on his back, damn near turning and punching the man in his face.

"Sorry, but you sure you're alright?" Sanford asked, giving him the look.

The look that told him Sanford knew damn well that the next words that came from 2B's mouth were gonna be any variation of 'I'm fine.' 

"I'll be alright." 2B said after a moment, straightening his posture. He gave Sanford a look right back that was just daring the man to challenge him.

Sanford looked at him for a long moment, a little to long for 2B's liking even.

"What? Got something on my face?" 2B narrowed his eye a little. 

"Yeah, bullshit." Sanford finally spoke.

2B let out an exasperated sigh (more like a wheeze) and rolled his eye.

"I've been dealing with this my whole life Sanford," he took a deep breath "It goes back to normal eventually. Asthma hasn't killed that many people. If your so worried about breathing how about you deal with his." 2B jabbed a thumb towards Deimos who was coughing into his arm, most likely from the smoke inhalation from cigarettes and a burning building.

"Alright, fine." Sanford held up his hands in surrender. "But god forbid, at least take off that crusty mask of yours. It's burnt and probably filled with smoke and ash. You'll give yourself a damn attack." He said as he turned to make his leave.

Sanford wasn't wrong. It reeked of ash and smoke that made his eyes sting and the smoke on it definitely wasn't helping his situation.

But taking his mask off out here in front of everyone?

Not a chance in hell.

When they got back to their home base 2B used what little medical knowledge the AAHW had taught him and patched up his teammates. He swears he's never said the sentences "I'll be fine," "hold still," and "Stop bitching and worrying, go rest." so many times in one day.

After that was said and done, 2B desperately needed a shower. He could feel how filthy he was and any longer of being able to feel his own skin would make him rip it off.

Stepping in and locking the door behind him he pulled off the mask from his eyes first, looking at the dirty mirror that has enough left to see himself and a little below his shoulders.

He stared at himself, his one remaining eye scanning his own features.

The dreaded part...

Grabbing the face mask from his face he pulled it off and let it fall onto the counter.

His face twisted into one of disgust, eye running over the large bruises that littered his face.

It was an ugly sight...

The stitching across the his jaw that barely met the corner of his mouth was starting to open up again, dried blood surrounded the spots that had started bleeding from the trauma. Cuts, soot, and blood that he couldn't tell was his or that of agents stained his face.

2B was no stranger to scars, his body was littered with them from his younger years of training under the AAHW and the one over and above his lip from the cleft palate he was born with was one he's had for as long as he could remember.

Being no strangers to scars though was that he knew how gruesome and hard they were to look at, especially when they were on yourself. 

Pulling his gaze away from the mirror he shook his head and peeled off his clothes. He had better things to do than fret over his appearance...

After a few minutes of trying to get their shower to work, damn busted hunk of junk, and finishing his shower he dried off and got redressed in some new clothes.

Except for the mask...

Normally, 2B would throw it on without thought ignoring the blood that was soaked into it and carry on with his night, but he'd rather not put his health at risk.

2B wasn't a doctor, nowhere near it, but he had more experience than the rest of those hooligans and he was the only thing keeping them from falling apart like old dolls.

Sighing he balled up the mask and decided to wash it out later. It probably desperately needed it anyway.

Leaving the room he made a b-line to his room, rummaging through his things until he found an old bandana, putting on his bandages for the bleeding he put it on. 

Though not as comfortable as his mask, it would do until he decided to wash out his mask.

With a final sigh 2B decided staying up late wasn't worth it tonight and laid down to rest...

If only it worked out that way...

Damn his insomnia. 

2B found himself staring at a wall or table for hours and no position felt comfortable enough to sleep in and his body was hurting...

2B finally sat up, running a hand down his face with a frustrated sigh.

The hot flash that took over his body from his frustration left him groaning miserably and throwing off his shirt, along with the bandana and bandages...

Which ultimately, 2B regretted.

When getting up to search the array of pill bottles he had in hopes there was some forgotten melatonin somewhere he caught a glimpse of the mirror.

He had to do a double take.

Did he always look like that?

It was down right horrifying.

The lighting brought out how much his face had been dipped in from the scarring on his face, and the place where his eye had been ripped from him as torture when the AAHW caught him again after his dissent looked unholy.

Looking down the scars lining his body weren't any better.

He wasn't sure how long he stared into the mirror, but a knock on his door and the creaking threw him out of his trance, scrambling and throwing on his bandana he glared at the intruder.

Deimos blinked tiredly at 2B, flipping on the light switch and squinted at the light. "Mmfm... Hey Toby, Hank..... Eh... Uh. Hank, their jaw again..." Deimos slurred, looking at 2B before he stopped, eyebrows shooting up with concern. "You doin' alright, man? You ain't lookin' to hot." 

"What? I'm fine." 2B replied, glancing at the mirror once again he had to do another double take. Like some cliché movie, he was crying and didn't even notice it until now...

Deimos leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed. "What's up?" He asked, giving a patient tilt of his head.

2B could only stare at Deimos. He was never a person to talk about his emotions. They never had time to deal with his problems that he could just as easily deal with himself...

As 2B stared at Deimos, he focused in on his eyes.

His expression was softened with genuine concern, and despite how much Deimos hated eye contact, he was looking him in his eye, not the mangled half of him, just him.

"Scars." Was all 2B got out.

Deimos nodded for him to continue.

"I hate them. Their so damn ugly and people I have meetings with can never look me in the damn eyesss... Eye anymore cause their to damn focused on the scars Phobos gave me and my ones I got from my time exploring purgatory." 2B said, pulling the bandana from his face to around his neck and glaring into the mirror at his reflection. "And certain lightning just emphasizes how fucked up it really is..." 

A long moment of silence followed as 2B continued to stare down his reflection, until Deimos strolled up behind him and wrapped his arms around him and rested his head on his shoulder, both staring into the mirror at each other.

"Do you think Hank is ugly?" Deimos asked.

2B quickly shook his head. "No."

"Sanford?"

"Nope."

"Me?" 

"Of course not." 

"Then why do you think you're ugly? We've all got scars from the same shit. Sanford lost a finger, I got almost cut in half and Hank quite literally did during the Phobos thing. If you don't think we're ugly why would we think that of you?" Deimos asked.

2B went silent as he looked at Deimos through the mirror before he could only sigh. "I don't know... It's just stupid." 

"It's not stupid, it's perfectly reasonable." Deimos said as he brought up a hand to scratch at 2B's head, something he normally hated but for once was willing to accept it.

"Hey, come with me." Deimos said as he pulled away, grabbing 2B's wrist and pulling him along into the hallways and into the living room, where all of them sat and it was clear Hank got to choose the movie of tonight because of the zombies on screen.

Sanford was sat beside Hank with his metal jaw in hand, having seemingly fallen off once again from doing to much talking. "Sorry Doc, didn't mean to wake you, but... Y'know. Hank." Sanford said apologetically as Hank huffed in annoyance.

2B only shook his head as he grabbed the jaw from Sanfords hands and shoved it back into place as Hank started to purr. 

"Thank you 2B." Hank purred, eyes squinted to represent their smile.

2B patted Hank's head. "You're welcome, Hank." 2B said as he stepped back to go back to his room before Deimos grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him onto the couch, right against Hank's chest and Deimos sitting down on his other side by his legs.

"You're staying with us." Deimos said.

2B opened his mouth to tell Deimos off and that he needed go sleep but Hank wrapping an arm around 2B trapping him in place with a hang going through his mohawk was enough for him to change his mind as a purr started to rise in his throat against his will. "Alright, fine. Just for a few minutes." 2B said, shifting a bit to make himself more comfortable as Sanford picked up the remote, resuming the movie and sitting back next to Deimos.

After so long of going through so many movies with them 2B had completely forgotten about his scars, not even realizing he'd had them on display for a few hours now, mask gone along with his shirt showing the many knife and bullet wounds, yet he couldn't bring himself to care.

As Deimoses loud snores filled the room, 2B slowly closed his eye and snuggled closer between Deimos and Hank, still purring away he let out a content sigh and slowly drifted off, feeling the best about himself than he had in years.

Chapter Text

It's been hours since he's lost contact with Hank, Deimos and Sanford.

2B was worried sick. They were on a dangerous mission and losing contact was a red flag, so now all he could do was hope and pray to whatever the fuck was left out there that they would be fine.

If they weren't back by tomorrow, he'd have to go out and see what happened to them.

Staying up for hours past the time he'd usually be in bed at eventually started taking it's toll. Barely able to keep his eyes open he eventually fell asleep right on the couch with his tablet in hand, not even noticing the buzz as messages came through.

The only thing to drag him out of it was a drop of water on his cheek.

God damnit

It wasn't to uncommon for it to rain, it was almost constant in Nevada Central, which also met the damn roof was leaking, because of course it has to...

Another few drops of water and 2B opened his eyes with a groan, eyes adjusting to the light of a lamp in the room.

It took him a bit to long to notice the thing standing over him...

2B yelled in surprise and fell off the couch in a panic, grabbing his knife and ready to throw it into the enemies head until he heard shouting.

"2B! ITS HANK DON'T KILL EM'!" Deimos shouted, stumbling up from a hallway battered to all hell and bandages loosely covering himself.

"What the fuck happened." 2B asked, looking at Hank who shifted in his place excitedly.

"He's a mag now... Or half of one." Deimos said as he patted the brute on his arm.

2B wiped the water off his face and it dawned on him. It wasn't actually water.

"Why the hell are you drooling all over me!?" 2B snapped as he scrubbed his face off with a disgusted expression.

Hank signed with his hands a sentence so messy 2B could barely make out what it said, only able to grasp the word 'jaw' and 'hard'. He chalked it up to the new giant red and black arm making it hard.

"We're going to need to work on your sign language again... But, we'll work on that later." 2B said.

Hank stepped forward, holding out a hand to help 2B from his spot of the floor. 2B grabbed his hand and Hank helped him up with ease and just a little to fast as he stumbled a bit.

"How'd the mission go? Looks like you've been to hell and back." 2B said.

"Funny you say that." Sanford called from down the hall.

"That fuckin' clown, Wicky? Tricky? Ronald McDonald lookin' ass. Yeah, The Auditor sucked up his body and he exploded and this huge skeleton thing came out of the ground and smaller ones came out of the black inky stuff from Auditor exploding and we all got dragged into purgatory and then we fought this bigger skeleton that kinda looked like a dick, and now we're here." Deimos explained, making wild hand gestures as he talked and Hank nodded along.

2B could only stare.

"Okay..." 2B sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. "Let's touch on that later." 2B clasped his hands together and paused...

Now where to start on these idiots...

"Deimos is the most injured." Sanford said as he walked up the hallway, black smears littering his side and face.

"Yeah some engineer shot me a bunch when revivin' Hank but I managed to shoot em." Deimos asked, his high energy finally dissipating as he talked and slowed down.

"Right. Come on, I'll patch you all up." 2B said as he led them to his office.

As 2B worked through them one by one when he got to Hank he looked him over curiously. 

"I forgot I did ask Deimos to try and see if making you a half-mag would bring you back but I didn't anticipate you'd look like... This." 2B said as he took the large striped arm in his hand and turned it over, running his other over the spikes.

Hank nodded, as it was all they really could do at the moment... Besides deciding to give 2B an unexpected and very unwanted lick up his cheek in his form of a kiss.

2B shuddered in disgust and pulled away. "Damnit Hank!" He spat, turning to glare at the mag who looked as proud as could be with their harassment and let out a purr and rubbed their rough metal jaw against the his head.

"If this is your way of showing me your appreciation I'm not exactly fond." 2B said, pushing away their head to look at their chest, planting a hand and searching for the faint pulse of a heartbeat, which quickened drastically at the scratching on their head to keep them distracted, to which a small smile twitched under his mask. "You aren't injured anywhere?" 2B asked.

Hank simply nodded.

"Good. Less time I have to spend digging around in your damn guts then." 2B replied, lifting up Hank's mag arm and running his fingers over the rough almost scaly gray and black skin, fading into a muted red covered with pale off-white spikes.

As 2B kept poking and prodding Hank only sat patiently, letting him have his fun... Until he got bored of it.

Hank turned to snap at the hand on their cheek as it retracted quickly and earning them a well deserved smack on the head. 

"Asshole! The fuck do you think you're doing?" 2B snapped, an offended look on his face as Hank thrusted their head into 2B's neck with a sigh and clinging to him with their new mag arm, signaling they were done getting poked and prodded like a test subject.

"Alright, fine, I get it. You can let me go." 2B said, tapping Hank's arm and trying to wiggle out of his grasp but to no avail. "Your already abusing this mag strength huh?" He sighed.

Hank nodded, purring contently, not even stopping as Deimos stepped in, a bent cigarette lazily hanging from his stained teeth as he grinned at them. 

"Sorry to interrupt your little lovey-dovey cuddle session but I needa' bandaid for Sanny-boy." Deimos said, strolling past them and opening the cabinet as 2B tried and failed to hide his embarrassment.

"Be quick then, will you?" 2B snapped, his eyes not leaving Deimos once as he searched.

When Deimos pulled out a suitable bandaid he turned to walk out, shooting 2B a wink and a wave. "Hope you're loving your new, 2B." Deimos chirped as he left, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

"Best thing I could've asked for..." 2B replied sarcastically.

'Love you to.' Hank signed sloppily, earning the smallest laugh from him.

Perhaps he could get use to having a new mag.

Chapter Text

Hank shifted uncomfortably in his suit, the fabric was to tightly constricted around his thighs and chest and it was making him itch, wanting to rip the suit in half and leave this damned get-together.

Dead center in Nevada Central, hosted by their god emperor Phobos, Auditor was invited, just due to being the one person that helped keep the company up and running by a thread with his need for clones and his vendetta against Hank.

They agreed to sneak in with 2B and Deimoses help, both previous members of the Nexus Core and A.A.H.W they knew their way around when it came to these facilities.

2B had scrounged up some important emails that listed the event and suggested that they infiltrate it, listen in on whatever they could find and get out without being noticed.

It was a great plan, but Hank was getting bored and frustrated of having to sneak after the Auditor where ever he went, struggling to focus through all the noise and pick out the details, and god damn, whatever the fuck was up with the Auditor's weird animal digitigrade legs, they made keeping up with him a lot harder than it should've been.

Hank was sweating bullets and felt close to passing out as they stopped a little bit behind Auditor, only hearing him laugh as the person he spoke to continued talking about utter nonsense and stuff completely useless, unless knowing the Auditor's sense of humor is shit was useful.

Hank was prepared for another chase down as they waved goodbye, striding behind the Auditor as he made use of his weird body to go right through the crowd of some fancy little dance floor. 

Great.

Hank made his way through at a painfully slow pace, taking ever inch of himself to not strangle the life out of every person that bumped into him or stepped on his feet. It felt like literal years before he made his way through, emerging with a scoff as he dusted himself off.

As they looked down to fix their tie a hand came from infront of them and fixed it.

Hank looked up quickly, already recognizing the black flaming hand as it retracted, looking down at them with his eyes squinted to represent the best charming smile he could with the lack of a mouth. He bowed to where he was eye level with Hank and extended his hand forward again to them.

"May I have this dance?" Auditor asked, his voice unnaturally calm to his usual angry and demanding self that Hank knew.

Hank opened their mouth to reject and get the hell out of there but his hand grabbed Hank's wrist and dragged them into the sea of grunts.

Hank paused as he stared at The Auditor, his hand intertwining itself with Hank's and a hand on his back pulling him forward to be pressed against his chest.

Hank was about to fight like hell to stop being grabbed by this monstrosity of a thing before he spoke.

"Just what kind of fool do you exactly take me for, Wimbleton?" Auditor snapped, his eyes narrowed into a glare.

"A pretty big one." Hank replied, trying to pull his wrist from Auditor's grasp before he stopped as needle like claws dug into his back and wrist, piercing his suit with ease and just barely breaking skin.

Auditor scoffed. "You've been on my tail all night and my patience is wearing thin. I'm tired of looking at your disgusting face. I'm surprised no one's even noticed you yet." 

"My disgusting face? You've only got a pair of eyes and mutant legs, so you're one to talk." Hank replied as the other finally started moving, forcing Hank to follow his lead as he danced.

"It's certainly more appealing than what you have going on. I'd rather lack some features than wake up to that." Auditor said, stepping back and making Hank follow, nearly stepping on the others feet.

Actually, that idea wasn't so unappealing...

Hank made his move to step on the damn things foot until he was turned around quickly in a twirl that made his head spin. 

Damnit...

"You aren't very subtle." Auditor said from behind them.

"Can't you just talk like a civilized person instead of doing in the middle of a stupid dancefloor?" Hank snapped, turning their head to glare at him from over their shoulder.

"If you put up a fight there's more people to pin you down out here. So, we won't be leaving any time soon." Auditor replied calmly as he spun Hank back around.

"I didn't come here to do the waltz with the guy trying to kill me." Hank groaned, starting to struggle against the him, planting their free hand against his chest but the Auditor's grip barely wavered.

"Would you rather me kill you right here?" Auditor snapped, leaning close enough that Hank could feel his hot breath against their face.

Gross.

"I wouldn't be going down without a fight." Hank replied.

The Auditor chuckled, a deep evil laugh perfect for a villain. "You won't be landing any hits on me, Hank. I'm an other worldly being. I'm only touching you now because I choose to." The Auditor said.

"I doubt it'll take long to find your weakness." Hank said, quickly growing bored of this little song and dance.

Literally. Did their fucking record player break or something? And apparently Auditor wasn't very advanced in his dancing.

"I don't have a weakness. I'll kill you before you can even reach my machinery. I've been training up my soldiers with the help of Phobos and they could sweep the floor with you. If you dare show your fa-" 

"God, stop with your monologuing. I don't care what your minion looking ass boyfriend is doing to help you with your toys, just kill me so Doc can drag me out of purgatory already. Or is this purgatory? Listening to you drone on about your stupid plans that clearly aren't going to work." Hank said, interrupting The Auditor's speech.

"...." The Auditor glared. "Fine. If that's how you want it, Wimbleton." He sneered, releasing Hank and using his strange anatomy to summon up a pair of bright red claws and dig them straight into Hank's jugular, relishing in the hot blood that spilled onto the dance floor and staining his red suit sleeves a shade darker and the slight struggle of Hank clawing at his arm before dropping his now lifeless body with a thud and the people on the dance floor scattering like roaches in panic.

He enjoyed it so much. If he had a mouth he'd have the widest grin he could muster.

Meanwhile, Hank thought about how the Auditor was kind enough to get his nails done before killing him. 

"Augh, Hank! You completely blew that mission, what were you thinking!? Do you have any idea how hard it is to retrieve your body from a fucking corporate party? It's damn near impossible!-" Doc droned on, cursing Hank for his carelessness of their mission. "I didn't hire you and give you my prized bazooka just for you to die and waste my time and medical supplies! I've got an entire underground corporation to run, people to please, the Enmeshment Drive to build, I have to be at Club Advent in an hour-" 

"You done yet? I've heard this a million times." Hank said a little weakly, looking over at Doc who turned to him with a glare that could send him straight back to purgatory. 

"Hank. You ass, if I had half the nerve I'd kill you again and leave you till I get back." Doc growled, turning back to his computer to type up more files. 

"Better than listening to you." Hank replied.

A silence so heavy weighed over them it could crush the building they resided in as Doc slowly turned to him.

"Don't actually-" Hank looked up at the click of Doc's sniper.

"Shoulda thought before you spoke then." He replied and one pull of the trigger, Hank was dead... Again.

"Fucking dumbass." Doc mumbled, setting down his sniper by his desk he gathered his things and headed to Club Advent.

He definitely got an earful and a (forced) apology from Hank afterwards but it definitely served him right.

Moral of the story; Hank is a fucking dick.

Chapter Text

Valentine's Day was pretty much a lost concept after everything went to shit.

Chocolate was pretty hard to come by nowadays, the only gifts worth giving were weapons and spending quality time with your partners were almost impossible depending on your position.

And it was damn near impossible for the little workaholic, 2B, sighing as Hank had to do an emergency run. They never specified why, they simply stated they were and out the door they left.

He decided to busy himself with gathering emails from the A.A.H.W, but it seemed like they had practically dropped off the face of Nevada, as the only email sent was a simple line stating it was valentine's day. Sooo interesting. 

So he was left sitting in his base, doing whatever he could.

He cleaned his work area, he cleaned outside his work area, the games on his tablet were only fun for a short amount of time before he grew bored. 2B was left to his own devices and he could feel himself going mad with nothing to occupy himself. Every passing minute felt like a century, the sound of his foot bouncing against the side of his desk felt louder than usual, he could feel how the front door opening and closing shut shook the house.

Wait

The front door!

2B shot up from his slumped over position on his desk and turned his chair to face his door, which was nudged open by a bloodied combat boot, stepping in the massive killing machine miniature MAG, Hank. 

"There you are! The hell did you do?" 2B asked, crossing his arms and frowning in disgust at the amount of blood on the floors he had just cleaned. 

Hank grunted, stomping over to 2B and lifting his mag arm, opening his hand and onto 2B's desk he dropped a neat little gift.

A heart.

A whole ass still bloody heart.

2B flinched as the droplets of blood got onto his own facial gear and took his mask off, wiping his lenses off on his pants.

"What the fuck." 2B looked up at Hank with a confused expression and watched as what little he could see behind the mags goggles his eyes were squinted to represent his smile and his hands shook with excitement.

2B looked back at the heart on his desk, ignoring the blood starting to soak in his papers he shrugged before turning back to Hank. A for effort, he guessed.

"Thank you, Hank. I appreciate it." 2B said, smiling up at Hank who nodded in response and bent over and sat their hands on both of 2B's cheeks, lifting his head and giving him a gentle bonk on the forehead with their own, making him blush and giggle, grabbing Hank's normal hand in his own and giving it a kiss (where there wasn't any blood). "I really wish you would've washed your hands first before touching my face though." 

Hank on hummed, moving his hands back to his face in an attempt to wipe it off before 2B pulled away. "Go wash your hands and I'll give you your gift, dumbass." 2B sighed, though he looked at Hank with all the love in the world. 

When Hank returned with clean hands and 2B cleaning his face 2B was waiting in his office, hands behind his back as Hank stood infront of him and tilted his head.

"I found this a few days ago when I had to go out and I figured I'd save it for Valentine's Day." 2B said, pulling out from behind his back a fat cat plushie, it's white fur stained with red drops and dirt with 2 black closed eyes and a huge stupid cute smile, looking like it had not a thought in its head.

Hank lifted their goggles to stare at the plushie, taking it in their hands and giving it a squeeze, shaking again from their excitement as the looked at its adorable face.

"I assume you like it?" 2B asked, smiling as Hank nodded and wrapped their mag arm around 2B, pulling him closer and pulled down their mask, doing their best attempt at a kiss they could, 2B smiling as he closed his eyes and kissed him back as they both purred in delight. 

2B pulled away, leaning into Hank with a smile. "I love you, Hank." He purred.

Hank cleared his throat and brought up a hand to run through his mohawk. "Love you too." Hank replied.

Chapter Text

Sanford hadn't even opened his eyes before it hit him.

He felt horrible. 

He cracked open his eyes and he was sweating bullets despite the fact that Deimos, the damn blanket hog, had wrapped himself up in the blanket entirely, leaving almost none of it for Sanford. Sanford was slightly thankful for once, as the blanket probably would've just made it worse for him at this point. Sanford groaned miserably before turning over and deciding to close his eyes again, falling back asleep.

Sanford grunted in annoyance at the hand prodding his side. "Sanford! We overslept!" Deimos' voice roused him to open his eyes and squint tiredly over at Deimos, Hank standing next to their bed with their arms crossed, what little of their eyes visible behind the blood red goggles half lidded with mild annoyance.

"Shit... You serious?" Sanford groaned, his voice low and scratchy. He turned over onto his back and stretched, back arching off the bed and his shoulders popping with satisfying cracks.

"2 hours." Hank stated. "Doc had been nagging over why you weren't in position for hours." 

Sanford rested his forearm on his sweaty forehead and shivered. He couldn't tell if it was from his fear of Doc or whether it was the fact that means their mission could fall apart right here... Or because he was sick.

Deimos picked up his tablet and squinted as the tablet's bright light assaulted his vision. "Jesus. 27 text and 5 calls." Deimos muttered.

Missing texts and calls from Doc was like missing them from your mother.

You were a dead man.

Hank huffed in slight amusement at the panicked glance Deimos and Sanford shared. "If you hurry maybe he'll let you off easy." Hank said.

Deimos was already up before Hank finished, running around like a headless chicken in only his boxers trying to gather his clothes and throw them on. "Hell, I ain't messin' with that guy. Doc can take me outta this world as fast as I was brought into it and then do it all over again." Deimos said, nearly tripping and falling as he pulled on his pants.

Sanford groaned as he sat up slowly, ignoring Hank and Deimos' bickering. His world was shifting and fuzzy and he could feel the sweat clinging to his back. He barely registered the clothes tossed onto the bed beside him.

"Come on, San! We gotta get goin' if we don't want Doc tearing us to shreds." Deimos said, running out the door of their bedroom, Hank giving Sanford one final glance before he followed after Deimos much slower.

Sanford didn't wanna get up, his muscles screaming in protest at every inch he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and the hot flashes that hit him as he bent down to tie his boots. His throat hurt and every swallow he made had his fist clenching in pain. 

"What am I, a baby?" Sanford thought bitterly, face hardening into a more serious one of anger as he put on his shades. "I'm not momma's little boy anymore. I can handle getting stabbed but can't handle a little virus? Get it together." With a final nod Sanford turned and made sure he was ready, powering through the aches and shivers he made his way to where Deimos was waiting, Hank taking the drivers seat for once and his music blasting through the radio to avoid any and all conversation. Luckily the only thing all 3 had in common was a liking to heavy metal.

"There you are!" Deimos looked up and offered a hand to help Sanford climb in, giving the car a hard slap on it's side to signal Hank to start driving. "Doc ain't thrilled with us but maybe he'll go easy? I mean, it ain't the end of the world. Hank already did that for us." Deimos said, clasping Sanford on the back making him jump.

Sanford grunted in annoyance. "Yeah, sure." He said, his voice struggling to be audible over the sound of the car's tires crunching gravel underneath them and the wind blowing past the car.

Deimos paused, his small grin dropping down into a small frown. "You feelin' alright, babe?" Deimos asked quietly, leaning closer with his face contorted into one of concern.

"Fine." Sanford replied, leaning closer as he rested his head on Deimos' shoulder, letting out a sigh as Deimos scooted closer. His head was killing him.

"You feel really warm, San." Deimos said, his voice still laced with worry as he gently placed his cold hand upon Sanford's forehead, the relief of his cold fingers pressed against him enough to make him pass out then and there. It was unfortunately short lasted though as his hand retreated as quickly as it came, brushing his hand on his pant leg to wipe off the sweat collected on Sanford's forehead. "You sure you're fit to do this? I don't want you gettin' hurt." 

"I'll be fine. We get weeks off after this." Sanford replied, closing his eyes behind his shades and leaning further into Deimos who accepted the added weight without complaint.

"Whatever you say, babe." Deimos replied, though his voice told Sanford he wasn't exactly convinced. 

Sanford shot up as a door slammed shut, Hank grunting in greeting and Deimos crawling into the truck beside him.

"Morning handsome." Deimos cooed, leaning down to give him a kiss on his forehead as he sat down beside him. 

"What? What'd I miss? Did you guys go without me!?" Sanford asked, almost offended at the fact they'd ditched him in the truck.

"My idea." Hank said, his head tilting slightly as he glanced at Sanford, reaching out suddenly, Sanford flinched but Hank's ungloved hand rested on his forehead. "You look disgusting and you have a fever." 

Deimos nodded beside him and turned to face Sanford. "For once, I'm agreeing with Dank here-"

"It's Hank."

"-You ain't doing to hot. Doc probably has something for ya. Not to mention if you're sick, Doc will go all soft on us, you know how he is." Deimos continued, gently pressing Sanford down to rest his head in his lap.

Sanford burgugedly laid back down, watching as Deimos took the bottle of water and pills Hank tossed at him and looked down at Sanford. "Hank found some stuff for your fever. If I were to guess it's about 103." Deimos said as he uncapped the water and pills, forcing Sanford to take the medicine and water.

"Thank you, Dei." Sanford mumbled, looking up at Deimos who grinned. 

"Don't sweat it, sweet cheeks. You're doing enough of that already" Deimos replied, leaning down and kissing Sanford on his cheek. "You're very sweaty."

"I never would've figured that out." Sanford chuckled, cuddling closer and closing his eyes, not bothering to open them as he felt his shades being removed. 

"I'll wake ya when we get there." Deimos said, his happy purrs lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

"Unbelievable." Doc sighed. "We all split up for a few days yet somehow you all still managed to infect each other."

"I think it's mostly Deimos' fault." Sanford replied, pulling the blanket around his shoulders closer at the cold chill that racked his body.

"My fault?" Deimos gasped in offence. "You're breaking my heart, Sanford. I'd never." 

Hank cleared their throat and all eyes were on them, their goggles off as they blinked tiredly and brought up their hands. "If you didn't make out with your sick boyfriend maybe we wouldn't have all caught it. With how much you fucking cough from smoking it spread in no time." Hank signed, their face scrunched up into a hard frown as they glared at Deimos.

"Hank's right." Doc said, nodding in agreement and Hank beamed. 

"I get to be sick with Sanford at least." Deimos replied, tossing an arm over his shoulders he kissed his cheek and pulled back with a smile. "Ain't that right, Sunny?" 

Sanford snickered at the nickname before he leaned closer to him. "Wouldn't have it any other way." 

Chapter Text

Sighing heavily Hank settled themselves in the truck bed, setting their rifle aside and watching as the other climbed in and promptly huffed and rolled onto his back.

"These missions are driving me insane." 2B huffed, peeling the mask from over his eyes off and tossing them aside to look over at Hank probably. "No injuries, I hope? I don't want to spend the next hour pulling bullets out of you. You're doing it yourself this time."

Hank looked back at him, opening his mouth to speak but he paused.

It wasn't often 2B removed his eye protection but when he did it never ceased to amaze Hank.

Though there was only one eye remaining in that skull of his, it was the prettiest one. Partial heterochromia, he called it. Resulted from some eye experiments preformed by his old position in the AAHW to improve aiming and performance, causing bits of blue to appear in his eye standing out in the sea of dark brown as it destroyed the melanin in his eye.

It most certainly worked, as 2B's accuracy was truly something to behold.

"Hank? You're staring... Again." 2B said, eye narrowed in slight annoyance.

Shaking his head to get rid of his thoughts he shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle myself." 

"Hey fuckers!" Deimos slapped his hand on the truck startling Hank so bad he turned and punched him, but Deimos ducked just in time.

"So, secondary building searched. Nuttin' much came up so I think we can skidaddle outta this joint." Deimos said as he walked to the front seat on the drivers side. 

"Sanford is driving!" Hank called, glaring at Deimos who looked at him over his shoulder.

"And why is that?" 

"You reek of cheap alcohol. If I'm going to die it isn't going to be from you crashing the car." Hank snapped, aiming his rifle at him threateningly.

Sanford strolled up with a few bags in tow. "He got to it before I did, unfortunately." He said as he sat them in the back with Hank and 2B.

"Fucking alcoholic sniffer dog." 2B said as he sat up and made himself comfortable. 

"Not only for alcohol but this to!" Deimos shoved his hand into the bag and pulled out a magazine and shoved it towards 2B, who grabbed it and looked at it.

"Ugh! Deimos!" 2B shoved the magazine to Deimos. "Seriously?! Why would you bring those back, they're probably filthy!" 

"They were in bags! What, don't like Playboy magazines?" Deimos laughed.

"Fuck off you horn dog." 

Deimos laughed again and threw it back in the bag. "Alright, alright. Lets get outta here. I feel gross covered in blood." 

When they situated themselves they started driving, 2B pulling out an ancient music player 2B scrapped up from an agents body and he put in an earbud.

He watched as he flipped through it and picked a song and stared out ahead, watching the boring landscape zip past them as they drove.  

Hank would normally be looking out as well, but he couldn't help but continue to stare at 2B.

His eye was half lidded lazily and with a heavy sigh his shoulders slumped as he relaxed. Hank loved it when he did that, knowing he felt safe enough to let his guard down around them was small yet so significant to them, especially considering their reputation of a killing machine, someone being able to trust them enough to do that touched them.

He watched as 2B perked up and pulled out his tablet, typing away as he put down notes upon notes on his paper.

"Might I ask why you're burning a hole into the back of my head?" 2B finally asked. He was more than use to Hank zoning out while staring at things and even him and the others, but so often and such a long time was unusual.

"Sorry. Zoned out I guess." Hank replied, tearing his eyes away from 2B as he looked back out towards the horizon.

"You know if something's wrong you can just say it, right?" 2B said.

Hank never replied, leaving 2B to only sigh and return to documenting their mission, waiting for Hank to finally speak.

"You're eye is pretty." Hank finally spoke after a long tense silence that felt like a lifetime, glancing at Doc out of the corner of their eye whose eyebrows shot up in confusion.

"Uh... Thank you?" 2B glanced up at him in confusion but he fell silent once more.

The ride stretched on in silence, the only remaining sounds being the wind, the punk rock music blasting through 2B's earbuds, and Hank mumbling under their breath over how stupid that supposed compliment was. 2B always hated his eye cause it was a reminder of his time in the agency, of course calling it pretty was stupid. They wanted to apologize, but they decided to keep quiet as well. Better to not make it worse, which they had a tendency of doing.

As the car slowed to a stop Sanford and Deimos stepped out, both cackling over whatever joke they had made prior and 2B started gathering his things, grabbing his gear in his hands and looking over at Sanford and Deimos.

"I never asked, neither of you were injured I'm assuming?" 2B asked.

"If I am I ain't feelin' it yet." Deimos replied, grinning and showing off his stained shark-like teeth.

"Nothing terrible. A scratch won't kill me." Sanford shrugged, resting his arm on Deimos' head who grumbled in annoyance.

"Great. Less work for me then." 2B stated as he continued walking towards the bunker they had decided to start using as a temporary home, leaving the others behind as he crept inside, Hank standing and watching him leave, a heavy weight of disappointment on his shoulders. 

"Never woulda taken Nevada's big mammoth to get so soft over lil ol' Doctor, eh?" Deimos grinned at Hank, who snapped their head towards him to fix him with a glare Deimos barely took into account. "You got a crruuusshhh~" Deimos cooed, throwing his head back and cackling, Sanford chuckling next to him. 

Hank stood there and stared, hands flexing by his sides as he watched Deimos' shoulders bounce up and down with his laughter before marching over and grabbing a fistful of Deimos' shirt, lifting him up from the ground and glaring at him. "How about you keep your mouth shut about it then?" Hank threatened, but Deimos only shrugged.

"It's not a secret if your so obvious about it, bud." Deimos replied. 

Hank tensed, ready to punch the smug grin off Deimos' face and leave him as a stain in the dark gray dirt below their feet but they hesitated and dropped him to the ground, Deimos landing on his ass with a grunt. "I'm to tired to deal with you. I don't want an earful from 2B either from the shit I'd do to you." Hank said, turning on his heel and marching towards the base as Deimos continued to howl with laughter. 

And Hank a mess of burning red blush, stomping past 2B not bothering to turn when he called out for him and straight to the place he claimed as his room, no one daring to bother him for the rest of the night.

He supposed he'd have to tell him another time.

Chapter Text

Sanford silently stared down at his hook, sharpening it before their quest of whatever it was Doc had asked for, having zoned out of the briefing completely. All he could do was hope Hank had actually paid attention to what they needed or else they'd be done for.

Tap tap tap tap 

Tap tap 

Sanford frowned at the tapping. It'd had been going on for ages and was getting on his nerves. Sanford had originally chalked it up to whatever rats might be living in the walls until he remembered rats weren't exactly in Nevada anymore, next was Hank, who seemed offended that Sanford would even accuse them of doing such a thing, next was Doc who only looked at him with a bored expression and said he hadn't heard a thing.

Maybe he really was going mad after that trip into the Auditor's hell they took.

Bang tap tap tap

God damnit.

Tap bang tap 

Sanford looked up from his hook, scanning the room and his eyes landed on Hank, who looked up as well.

Bang bang BANG 

The knife resting on the table fell to the floor as the banging intensified, both Sanford and Hank staring at it before meeting each others gazes. 

"You're hearing this shit to, right?" Sanford asked, Hank nodding in response as they bent down to pick up the knife from the floor. 

Hank turned the knife over in their hands, checking for damage before tapping the table with their foot and not even getting a wobble in response.

Hank and Sanford shared a look again before turning to the door as it cracked open, Doc looking as disheveled as ever as he leaned up against the door frame. "About time you two left. The agency will be settling down soon so you can catch them off guard." He said.

"Please for the love of god tell me you heard all that banging to, right?" Sanford asked, turning in his seat to look at Doc who sighed in response.

"Again with this? I heard you drop your knife but I'm not hearing any of this banging." Doc replied.

"I think you're deaf." Hank mumbled.

Doc scoffed, not bothering to make a comeback as he pointed towards the door. "If you two are ready then get going, we haven't got all day." He said, turning and stalking back into his office as he closed the door.

Sanford sighed, gathering his things he stood and walked out the door, Hank following behind him as he shoved his hand in his coat pocket.

Sanford kicked an agent to the ground, silently keeping track of the amount of agents that he killed.

46...

Out of the corner of his eye he watched an agent drop dead. Hank nor himself were even near them.

47...

Hank seemed to stop and stare at something, a gun clattering to the ground was all Sanford had heard as he shoved his hook through an agents cheek, a bullet hole appearing in their head as he shook them off, grunting in annoyance at the fresh blood that made his hook slippery.

48...

Sanford jumped as an elbow was jabbed into his side. "Hey! The hell was that for?" 

Hank pointed at the wall, painted in blood a crudely drawn dick and Sanford's name written under it. "Seriously?"

"Seriously what? I didn't do that!" Sanford exclaimed.

"Yeah, sure."

"You know I wouldn't draw a fucking dick on the wall in the middle of a mission! Do I look like Deimos to you?" 

Hank rolled their eyes as they huffed. "He was always a bad influence to you."

"Like he was any better on you. One of the unfortunate thing you both had in common was your lack of common sense and impulse control." Sanford poked Hank on his chest.

"That's two things!" 

Sanford growled in response but their quarrel was quickly put to an end at a loud bang, a gun clattering onto the ground and dust sprinkling down from the ceiling where a fresh bullet hole was, the tip of the gun still smoking and the stinging sent of smoke and gunpowder made Sanford sniffle. The only living things in the room were Hank and Sanford, the rest being piled with dead bodies.

"You get that info?" Sanford asked, his voice hushed as he leaned closer to Hank.

"Mhm." Hank replied, eyes scanning the room as carefully as they could.

One gesture of Sanford's head was all the signal Hank needed, right on Sanfords heels as they sprinted out of the building as fast as their legs would take them.

Sanford sighed as he sat back into the couch, Hank sitting down next to him on the far opposite side and tossing the data they obtained on the coffee table. A long stretch of silence falling over the two until surprisingly Hank broke it.

"Somethings up." Hank said, tightening his grip on the arm rest.

"I know, It's driving me nuts! I counted those agents and I only killed 48 of them!" Sanford shouted, sitting up straight in his seat and slamming a fist down in frustration.

"79 for me. Out of what, 187 agents in that building alone?" Hank replied.

"I doubt these agents are killing themselves or each other. As much as they are idiots they're trained to fight in packs." Sanford thought aloud, scratching at the scruff on his chin in thought. 

Hank sighed. "Any logical explanation?" 

Sanford shook his head. "My only guess is we dragged something back with us?" 

"Possible." Hank replied.

Another stretch of silence.

Tap tap tap tap 

Tap bang 

Sanford shot up fully. "I can't fucking do this." He growled, standing from his spot he disappeared deeper into the base, mumbling complaints as he left and only left Hank to follow closely behind him. 

"Doc!" Sanford shouted, slamming the door to his office open with such force the papers on the table fluttered to the floor.

Doc nearly had jumped out of his chair, hand hovering over the knife strapped to his side and his eye was wide as he stared at Sanford before it turned into a glare. "Sanford?! What the fuck could you POSSIBLY want acting like that?" Doc growled, turning back in his seat with an angry sigh.

"I can't take this shit anymore Doc. All the noises are getting on my last nerve and it's freaking us both out! You really-" Sanford began but was quickly cut off as Doc lifted a hand, signaling for him to be quiet.

"Again with this?! I'm telling you, it's nothing!-"

"Ah jesus guys, really?" 

Everyone froze, Sanford and Hank sharing a confused look as Doc turned once again in his chair.

"Guys squabbling like a bunch of little kids."

In that exact moment everyone drew their closest weapons. "Who's there?" Doc snapped, eye scanning the room with full intent to kill.

"You don't recognize me?" A familiar form had materialized itself on the table on the far left side of the room, the rooms temperature dropping drastically as it did. "I'm offended! Only been dead for 5 months!" 

Sanford froze, tearing his shades from his face as he stared in disbelief, mouth hanging open trying to comprehend what was in front of him.

A small smile formed on his face. "You're gonna swallow a fly with yer' mouth hangin' open like that." 

"DEIMOS!?" 

Deimos grinned, showing off the sharp teeth Sanford didn't know he had missed so much. "Sanford!" 

"Oh my god-" Sanford had gone light headed, nearly falling onto his ass if it weren't for the hand of Hank on his back setting him upright. "You- You're- What?"

Doc rubbed a tired hand down his face, having sat back down in his seat. "How the hell?" 

"Dunno!" Deimos chirped as he hopped off the table. "I mean, I died. S'how I became a poltergeist, obviously." 

Sanford wanted nothing more than to hug that bastard to death a second time but boy did he want to wrap his hands around his stupid neck. "You..." Sanford pointed at Deimos. "YOU were doing all of that noise!? Kept Hank and I up for days cause we thought we really did drag something back with us and throwing pens at us?!" 

"Yup!" Deimos sat his hands on his hips. "It was actually really funny until I realized you guys were about to have an entire fight over it." 

Sanford only stared. Deimos was back, not alive but well and he was standing there, completely real. He almost wanted to cry.

"Well, don't just stand there!" Deimos opened his arms, smiling expectantly at Sanford. "I've missed you, you big lug."

Sanford rushed forward, trapping Deimos in death grip as he squeezed him. "I missed you too, you dumbass." Sanford said, shoving his head into the crook of Deimos' neck as Deimos wrapped his arms around Sanford to crush him just as tight, beckoning the others to join in.

Begrudgingly, the other two did as well.

"I thought the lack of sleep was making me hear things, asshole. You couldn't have come out earlier?" Doc sighed, looking at Deimos like a disappointed parent.

"And what fun would that have been?" Deimos replied, the shit eating grin returning to his face and pulled Doc closer. "Missed you."

Doc shook his head. "You've been here the entire time messing with us!"

Sanford looked up from Deimos' neck. "Oh, Dei! One more thing." Sanford said, smiling down at Deimos.

"Oh?" Deimos tilted his head in question.

Sanford took a slow step back... Before he reeled back and punched Deimos right in the gut, sending him to the ground. "That's for keeping me up for weeks with your damn tapping!" 

"I thought it was funny!" 

Deimos groaned as Doc kicked him in the leg, though not nearly as hard. "Not you too!"

"Thats for making me stay up for the last 5 months looking for your sorry ass in purgatory!" Doc snapped, though the squint of his eye betrayed his tone as he smiled from amusement.

Another kick, this time from Hank making Deimos fall onto his side. "That's for drawing a dick on my face and on the wall." 

Deimos groaned, looking up at the three standing over him with a huge grin, chuckling to himself. "That's fair."  

Chapter Text

Deimos you need to go on that run now Hank needs the supplies to keep them from dying, Deimos we need ammo, Deimos stop complaining about your cigarettes go out and get some lazy ass, Deimos stop walking around the house without your pants on, Deimos, Deimos, Deimos. 

Ugh!

Doc's nagging was stuck in his head, driving him absolutely mad. Don't get him wrong, he loved him to death but god damn did he get annoying. Right now Doc would probably be scolding him for going 65 mph in the middle of nowhere... That's a lie, Doc would be doing over 100 knowing his ass. Bastard can't drive for shit.

But still!

He'd sent Deimos out for supplies, Sanford staying home to help Doc man Hank while they were out of commission. A few broken ribs, a skull fracture and a broken leg wouldn't hold Hank down so they had to work together to do so. 

Both had seemed nervous to send Deimos on his own for varying reasons. Sanford was worried about him getting injured and needing backup, Doc had worried the same thing but his ultimate fear was Deimos getting distracted. Everything was a weakness to Deimos.

And, lo and behold, Deimos got distracted by the agency building that had fires going off in front of it, holes caved through the walls and surrounded by bodies. While it definitely wasn't the intended target Doc had given him it'd keep him up at night not knowing what the hell happened in there. So slowing down the car he pulled in near an entrance, ignoring the crunch of glasses and bone under his tires he stepped out and gazed up at the massive hole big enough to fit a full grown MAG agent through. 

While he knew he should definitely not go into that building, everything in him was at a war of common sense vs quenching his thirst of being a nosey prick.

Being a nosey prick was much more fun.

With a shrug Deimos drew his gun and marched through the broken door, stepping over bodies and keeping his gun trained on every dead body he walked past, mangled and twisted in unnatural ways, bodies crushed into mush, ripped in half with one end of their bodies on complete opposite sides of the room... To anyone else it sounds like a horrible nightmare but Deimos could only gaze upon the horrors with a casual expression and finding long strands of someones small intestines getting wrapped up on his ankle a mild, everyday inconvenience. 

Didn't make the slimy texture any less gross though.

As Deimos furthered into the building he was just awaiting the eventual scolding Doc would deliver as soon as he looked at his tablet-

"Deimos..."

There it is.

"What's up Doc?" Deimos asked innocently.

"You better get your ass back in that car and go to the base I told you about or may the higher-ups have mercy on you." Doc's voice snapped through his headphones.

"Everyone in the base is dead anyway! What, goin' to pass up free extra supplies?" Deimos replied.

"What in your right mind would think entering a building full of freshly dead agents is a good idea? What or whoever took out that base is clearly dangerous and you need to get out." 

"I'm mutin' you." 

"DEI!-"

Deimos pressed a button on his headset and Doc's voice muffled into blissful silence, leaving Deimos to step into the largest room in the base and explore in... Not peace. 

Definitely not peace.

Deimos ducked down behind a wall and peered out over it at the thing sitting in the center of the room, his heart leaping to his throat as he stared wide eyed.

A mag agent, large nails protruding from it's head that were caked with dried blood, massive hands that were stained red with large black claws extending from its finger tips that glistened in the lights, the white shirt that was under it's black over coat was stained pink and red with blood of agents and its own as it dripped off the large flat ends of the spikes embedded in its cheeks and glasses that slipped off its face occasionally, reaching up to push them back into place.

The holes in the walls finally made sense, the bruises on his hands clear... MAG rampage.

Deimos slowly and carefully crept out from his spot behind the wall. He could slip past a MAG, no biggie!

crunch

Deimos stared down at the shades under his foot.

Big biggie.

The mags head perked up, swinging around to look at him, both just staring at each other as the tension grew painfully thick, waiting for the other to make a move. The mag moved first, only letting out a gutteral groan as it turned away from Deimos, ignoring his presence instead of taking the easy kill, which left Deimos stunned.

"So, you aren't going to kill me?" Deimos questioned, careful not to make any sudden moves he slowly shifted to look at the agent better.

The agent turned again, looking down at Deimos and only huffing in response.

"Well, hey. You don't kill me I ain't going to kill you bud." Deimos said, going to satisfy his curiosity as he drew closer to the MAG who only watched him wearily. "You kill these guys? Great going. Less work for us." Deimos said, craning his neck to look up at him.

The MAG grunted. 

"What's your name big guy? You don't seem to bad." Deimos asked with a tilt of his head.

The MAG moved slowly, bringing up his hands he signed. "T-O-R-T-U-R-E" 

"Torture? Man it feels like these guys are just throwing darts at dictionary pages for these names." Deimos replied, getting a grumble from him which Deimos hoped translated into at least a pity laugh at his bad jokes.

"So uh... Why'd you do it?" Deimos looked up at the large agent whose brow furrowed into a frown, letting out a deep growl, which Deimos took as his sign to not push any further. 

"Alright, I hear you loud and clear." Deimos shrugged. "Well, why are you just sittin' around then? I know the agency usually checks on their buildings time to time, gonna get yourself killed sittin' around." 

The MAG grunted. 

"I'll take that as... Certainly an answer." Deimos replied, turning away from the MAG he waved his hand. "Imma go poke round' a bit. Doc will tear my head off if I don't get medi supplies for his dumb boyfriend." And with those parting words he crept off into the building. 

And as Deimos had expected it wasn't as much as what he probably would've found had he went to his designated building, but he found enough to keep Doc satisfied for a good few weeks and he supposed it was better than nothing anyway. He did one last look through of gathering any good knives, a few shiny trinkets and lastly... The MAG that hadn't left its spot.

Deimos approached carefully, cursing under his breath as he tripped over rubble from the punched out walls. "Hey." Deimos greeted. 

A simple grunt in response.

"So... You plan on sticking around in this building or you wanna skiddadle?" Deimos asked as he leaned on the MAGS large knee, which shifted as it peered down at him, its confusion evident on its face.

Was it a dumb idea to drag a MAG agent home? Oh most definitely so. Was that going to stop him? Fuck no.

Deimos grinned up at him. "You don't seem like a threat. Less' the agency is gettin' a lot smarter in its traps, which I highly doubt and I think comin' with me would be a lot better than nasty ol' Audie."

Torture blinked behind his massive shades, staring at Deimos as he thought about Deimos' out of nowhere offer. Sighing once he closed his eyes and slowly nodded, shifting to stand to its full height as Deimos backed away to avoid an accidental crushing.

Holy shit he befriended a MAG.

Dei: Hey 

Dei: Hey 

Dei: Hey 

What :2BDAMNED

Dei: You ain't gonna beleive this shiy.

Dei: I found a dog 

Dei, dogs left Nevada ages ago. :2BDAMNED

Dei: Not this one. Big friendly 

guy. Lieke that one dog you told 

me about. Cliffbar? 

Clifford. :2BDAMNED

whered you find it. :HanK

Dei: Inna building

Are You Sure That's Actually A Dog?? :S4nf0rd

Dei: I'll give it a solid maybe

I Don't Like The Siond Of That: S4nf0rd

deimos youve never seen an animal in your life :HanK

that is definitly not a dog :HanK

Hank is right. :2BDAMNED

Dei: Shut it and come outside 

Deimos pocketed his device, glancing over his shoulder at the loud foot steps behind him and smiling at Torture who held his hands close to his chest, popping and fidgeting with his fingers nervously. 

"Don't worry bout' them. Promise, I'll beat some ass if they get violent." Deimos said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he paused outside the base, grinning at the sound of clicks as the door unlocked.

The first to step out was a very obviously annoyed Doc, glaring at Deimos before it was wiped off his face in a flash, backing up and bumping into Sanford's chest. Sanford had staggered back, grabbing Doc and urging him outside as he stared up at Torture, eyes widening behind his shades as Doc turned to Deimos. "Wh- Deimos is that-"

"A MAG? Yeah! He's my friend. His name is Torture!" Deimos chirped, holding his hand up like showing off a prize in a game show and Torture only gave a small wave.

Doc stared at Deimos, for the first time his usual annoyed and bored expression was replaced with pure bewilderment. "I... How- WHERE the HELL did you find THAT!? HOW ARE YOU NOT DEAD!?" Doc shouted, gesturing to the MAG that stood there quietly. "When you said you had found a dog I expected some horribly mutated rat from that damn power plant, not a whole ass agent!" 

"Well, a mutated rat would've been really cool but I brought back this friendly guy! He was just sittin' in that building-" 

"That you shouldn't have even gone into in the first place." 

"Yeah, yeah. But he didn't kill me so I was like 'Hey you seem pretty sick wanna come hang with us we're soo much cooler' and he doesn't talk a whole lot so he just kinda nodded and I was like 'Snazzy lets go' and then we walked back here cause he co-" Deimos inhaled loudly. "Couldn't fit in my car obviously but he killed all the agents in the building so I didn't have to waste any ammo or knives, in fact I got more and also those supplies." Deimos finished, presenting the backpack to Doc with a big grin. 

Doc took the backpack silently, at a loss for words as he glanced back and forth between Deimos and Torture. His attention was ripped away from that though as the door swung open, Hank, grumbling curses under their breath limped out, leaning on the wall to keep their weight off their broken leg.

"Why the hell are you-" Hank began, their gaze drifting up to Torture, who stood stiffly and only stared right back at Hank.

Deimos walked back over to Torture, leaning on his leg he crossed his arms and grinned. "Hey Hank, check it out! Pretty neat, huh?" 

"What."

"I'm not repeating myself. But this is our new team member. He's really nice!" Deimos said, reaching up towards Torture, who moved a hand down and lifted Deimos into his hand, standing straight once again allowing Deimos to look down on his teammates for once.

"Deimos," Sanford moved his shades to rest on his forehead, rubbing his eyes with a sigh. "You were gone for 30 minutes. Where are we supposed to keep them anyway!?"

"It's great at punching things." Deimos replied. 

"That- ... No, forget this," Doc turned on his heel. "Figure it out. I'm to tired for this." Was all he said as he stomped back into base, slamming the door shut behind him. 

"Can he stay though!?" Deimos shouted after him.

"WHATEVER." Doc shouted back.

"YAY!" 

Chapter Text

"GOD DAMNIT!" Deimos shouted, his jacket was thrown carelessly onto the ground along with his headset and hat, both lying on the ground inches from the raging man just waiting to get snapped in half by his feet if he dared.

Sanford stood there helplessly watching the smoke rise from his body and float off into the air as it was picked up on the wind, sighing as he waited patiently.

Just a few minutes ago they were fighting off a hoard of agents, trying to pick up something Doc had needed. Doc had sat them down and told them both it was practically dire they retrieved that pen drive. They had gotten through the mission smoothly, busting down the door of the location of it they found a single scientist, who destroyed the very pen drive they needed. Deimos stared at the scientist and in a heartbeat the scientist was dead. 

Deimos was pissed. Sanford never understood all the tech Deimos and Doc used, he preferred the bigger machinery of construction and making bombs but if Doc said it was dire then it was. According to Deimos it was just as important, as soon as they got out of the building Deimos finally snapped like Sanford had anticipated, yelling curse words and hitting anything that happened to get in his way, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to work through his rage and pain.

Sanford had heard about them from Doc before, as the two traveled together before Sanford had even met Deimos. Deimos was trained through the brutalities of The Agency, using his rage as a weapon and encouraging his violent outbursts ever since he came out of the cloner. Unfortunately, it still stuck with him.

Sanford snapped his head up from it's bowed position facing the ground at a loud fwoosh. 

Not again...

The spot Deimos had stood previously was just a ball of fire, Deimos standing in the center of it, the loud hissing as tears and sweat was quickly evaporated by the heat.

"Deimos!-" Sanford took a step back from the flaming ball that was his boyfriend, eyes squinting behind his shades at how bright it was. "Babe, calm down please! I promise we'll get that info somehow!" He yelled.

The ball of flames shifted, Deimos stared at him as the flames only wavered slightly. Deimos yelled something, drowned by the hissing and crackling. 

Sanford stiffened, to afraid to make Deimos repeat himself. "Listen, Dei. I promise, if anyone is going to find that info it's going to be Doc. He's great at this and probably thought this would be the easiest first route." Sanford explained, stepping forward slowly.

Deimos groaned, harshly hitting the palm of his hand to his forehead as he stepped away and went back to his angry pacing, the flames surrounding his body growing in size.

Wonderful.

Sanford crossed his arms and leaned back, watching in silence before the beeping of his earpiece caught his attention, reaching up and pressing a button it beeped once before he heard Doc's voice on the other side.

"Sanford, how'd it go? I can't exactly get ahold of Deimos." Doc asked.

"Ehh... Bout' that. Not well, he's currently on fire and that drive you needed is good as gone." Sanford replied, adjusting his glasses and finally turning his back to Deimos. He'd prefer if his retinas weren't on fire.

"Damnit. Of course they'd destroy it." Doc growled, a soft thud of Doc hitting his desk in annoyance following. "It's fine, we'll figure something out. As for Deimos' tantrum, just talk to him. Works like a charm." 

"Anything in particular? He looks about ready to punch the next thing that breathes in his direction." Sanford said, glancing over at Deimos momentarily who's body was beginning to shake as his frustration grew.

"There's only maybe a 35% chance of that happening. Just don't talk about the mission and district him." Doc replied. "Good luck, Sanford." 

And with that Doc had hung up, leaving Sanford to fend for himself against what looked like the aftermath of a gender reveal party.

"Hey Dei! What do want to go eat after this? I was thinking of stopping by that little hot dog stand that pops up sometimes." Sanford yelled, causing Deimos to turn to him and the flames had only wavered slightly.

"Heard he finally decided to start selling that soda you really like that we can never find." Sanford continued.

"Seriously?" Deimos questioned, the fire dying down to a small flickering around his arms and legs.

"Yeah! If we hurry we might be able to get there before he's out." Sanford smiled, trying to hide his sigh of relief as Deimos' flames flickered out into a small puff of smoke.

Deimos started towards the car before he stopped.

"Hey, Star." Deimos looked down. "You don't think he'd mind the fact I ain't got nothin' on, right?" 

Sanford glanced down before he closed his eyes and sighed. "Deimos." 

"Listen, I might be fire proof but clothes aren't. At least my headset and hat survived!" Deimos said, picking up his discarded items and putting them on his head.

"Deimos, get in the car." 

"Alright, alright." Deimos threw his hands up in mock surrender. "By the way, sorry for loosing my cool like that. I usually try not to let it get to that point." Deimos said.

Sanford's smile retuned as he shrugged. "It's fine, I get it. I'm still a bit pissed to." 

Deimos smiled as he started towards the car, taking a moment to grab Sanford and lean up to give him a kiss, which he had gladly returned.

When he pulled away Sanford gently sat his hands on Deimos' face. "You're hot." 

"Aww, thank you babe." Deimos cooed.

"No, literally. You are at least well over fever temperatures right now." Sanford said, causing Deimos to roll his eyes.

"C'mon. Lets go get a damn hotdog, I'm hungry." Deimos sighed as he pulled away with a playful grin and headed towards the passenger side.

"At least have the decency to cover yours up." Sanford replied.

Deimos snorted. "Why pay for one if you've got a free one right here then?" 

Sanford groaned. "Jesus Christ dude." 

And they both drove away from the wrecked agency building, both happily laughing.

And Deimos received a month long ban from the stand for public nudity.

Chapter Text

2BDamned and Hank.

They were all Deimos and Sanford had and they were everything to them. Without them they'd have either died or become as horrible as the ruffians wandering the wasteland dubbed 'Nevada.' 

They lost count how long it'd been since Hank decided to kidnap Deimos from that agency building out of confusion, they lost count of how long it'd been since Deimos had found Sanford in their warehouse searching for supplies and they didn't care. They were a family and a happy one. Of course they had their ups and downs, embarrassment and tears but that's what came with adopting two boys from an insane place such as this.

They were both 16 now, both of them surprised to have lasted as long as they did. If you asked Sanford and Deimos years ago where they think they'd be they tell you probably dead, as dark as it was for 11 year olds to be saying such things, it was their harsh reality. 

It was harsh, unkind, and unpredictable... Everything was unpredictable.

"Oi San! Y'know how long dad said he'd be gone again?" Deimos called, turning his head to look at Sanford who took a bite of a simple ham sandwich.

"Mmhp... 2 days? Somewhere round that." Sanford replied, voice muffled by his food.

"Uughh, course he would be." Deimos groaned, leaning his seat back until it balanced on two legs he reached back and grabbed at Sanford's arm. "I have an idea." 

"Whatever your about to say I can assure you we aren't doing it." Sanford said, bapping away Deimos' hands.

"Hear me out!-"

"No."

"Pleaseeee-"

"Nah."

"Let's make Dad n' Pops somethin'!" 

Sanford looked up from his sandwich, eyebrows raised slightly. "What exactly is this something?" 

"Well, it's November and we both ended up here this month so I guess it's like a second birthday! We can celebrate it!" Deimos replied, grinning at Sanford as he grabbed his hand, shaking it as Sanford hummed.

"For once your idea isn't horrible." Sanford sighed. "And quit leaning back in your chair, you'll fall." 

"You sound like daaaAAH!-" Deimos flailed as his chair tipped back, throwing him to the ground as Sanford stared down at him with an unimpressed expression. 

"Told you so." 

"Suck it." 

Deimos looked up at Sanford who sat across from him, a tense silence hung over them as Sanford flexed his hands nervously.

"You're certain dad said him and pops would only be gone 2 days, right?" Deimos asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Positive." Sanford replied, his leg bouncing as he tapped on the table. "What if something happened?" 

"I doubt it. Dad n' pops probably got caught up in something, you know how they are." Deimos reassured him, reaching across the table and taking Sanford's hand in his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Just like dad did for them.

Sanford squeezed his hand back. "Yeah, I know... It's just... It's nerve racking." 

"I get it. I'm sure they're fine." Deimos said with a reassuring smile.

He felt horrible lying through his teeth to Sanford. Deimos was just as worried. He wasn't certain they were fine, he knew that Doc wouldn't be so far off schedule. It was supposed to be 2 days. It's been a week. Deimos opened his tablet and was greeted with his conversation with Doc.

Dad: We'll be gone about 2 days, 3 at most

I'd say.

 You should bring a souvenir back :)) :Deim0z

Dad: Fat chance. You have enough stuff. 

Dad: Gtg. Watch the base and beat up intruders :)

Dad: Love you

Love you 2: Deim0z

Hey it's been a minute, smthin go wrong?: Deim0z

Dad??: Deim0z

Deimos swallowed thickly, feeling Sanford nervously fidget with his fingers as he stared at the messages.

"What do you think might've happened?" Sanford asked, rubbing his thumb on the rough pads on Deimos' fingers which produced the fire from his fingers. 

"I think... Pops did something stupid as always and he got dads tablet broken." Deimos said, a small smile cracking onto Deimos' face as he remembered the times Hank had broken Doc's equipment on a whim, whether it had annoyed them or scared them.

"Heh. I can see that, they probably stole it and threw it at an agents face." Sanford chuckled, both sharing a small laugh before they fell back into silence.

It felt strange not having Doc or Hank around. While they were use to having them both leave for things, they always both came back and would tell them both what they'd missed. It was Deimos' favorite part of them coming back, watching his parents bicker at each other for making the other seem stupid in their versions. His lungs would always burn after their stories from laughing so much and Sanford would be wiping away tears of laughter. 

Deimos smiled to himself. The story they'd have when they got back must be insane.

Sanford stared up at the ceiling, shades thrown aside onto the table and his foot bounced restlessly, splayed out on the floor. He found it comfortable despite the concrete floors. 

Whenever he laid there Hank or Doc would appear over him with quizzical looks, always asking if he was alright or getting a nudge in the side, or, a pillow thrown at him from Doc or Deimos yelling at him not to stiffen his neck.

Sanford frowned. It was quiet now. To quiet for comfort. The cold of the concrete under him was completely still, usually vibrating as Hank's loud footsteps would make the rickety base shake or Doc dropping and knocking stuff over on his blind side and yelling curses followed by Deimos laughing at him and Doc scolding him.

Now all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing and Deimos shifting on the arm chair beside him.

4 weeks...

It's been 4 weeks. 

"Hey San." Deimos croaked out, turning to look at him Sanford hummed. "I really don't want to say it but-"

"Don't." Sanford sat up and glared at Deimos. "Don't say it."

"Sanford, we-" Deimos began but Sanford held up a hand. 

"Deimos, when someone tells you to shut up I think you should probably start listening for once." Sanford snapped.

Deimos looked hurt but his gaze hardened. "Sanford, we're running out of supplies and its been weeks." Deimos said, tears welding up in his eyes as he looked at Sanford. "We have to face this at some point."

"I'm not ready." Sanford muttered, tearing his gaze away from Deimos who hiccuped pathetically.

"Then when, huh?" Deimos questioned, sniffling and frowning as he tilted his head. "I don't want to face the facts either but we're running out of options! They're dead Sanford! Dad isn't alive to bring back pops like he always does, so who's supposed to bring back dad?" 

Sanford turned back to Deimos, a seething glare that probably would've burned Deimos right then and there if he could. 

His heart was pounding in his ears, his hands and knees shook, his breathing was rapid and no matter how much he inhaled he couldn't get a good lung full of air like they were being squeezed, his nose and eyes stung... Fuck.

A pitiful sob ripped itself from Sanford, who doubled over and continued to cry, trying to get a grip on himself. "Damnit, I know you're right! But- I just!-" Sanford tried to force the words that gathered in the back of his throat but all they came out of him was sobs and incomprehensible blubbering.

Deimos leaned down in front of him, through his blurred vision he could see Deimos' own tear streaked face, clearly holding back from breaking down just as he was. "I know, I know." Deimos' voice was unnaturally gentle, opening his arms slowly and Sanford threw himself into his arms without hesitation. "Deep breaths, come on. Just like pops taught us." Deimos whispered, running a hand up and down his back as Sanford tried to breathe.

Slowly but surely he got a grip on his breathing, a few small sobs racking his body as he held Deimos closer. "It's not fair." Sanford sniffled. "It's not fair! What did we do to deserve this!? The agency already took my mom, now my dads! I don't want to be left alone and abandoned again because of some FUCKING AGENCY! I can't handle loosing anyone else! What if they take you to!?" 

Deimos squeezed him so tight he swore his back would have snapped before he pulled away, resting his hands on his shoulders. "Fat chance. If I go down it's not going to be by some stupid agency." He reassured, wiping away his Sanford's tears. "Besides," Deimos continued. "On the chance that it does happen, which it won't, you can drag me back into my body and beat the shit out of me for dying on you." 

Sanford let out a sharp exhale through his nose and smiled. "I'll hold you to that. Same goes for me then."

Deimos gave him a small smile. "You bet it does." 

A silence fell over them, just staring at each other before Sanford leaned into Deimos. "I'm sorry." 

Deimos reached a hand up and pat Sanford's head. "Don't apologize, I get it."

Sanford leaned his head into Deimos' shoulder. "I'm not ready for this."

"I'm not either." Deimos confessed. "But we have each other, thats all we need. We're brave!" 

 Sanford sighed, Deimos' attempt at optimism making him smile a little. He'd never understand how he did it.

"Deimos." Sanford pulled back slightly as Deimos finally stood, offering a hand which Sanford took.

"Hm?" Deimos looked up at him. His exhaustion was evident by how unkempt he was, his long hair full of knots and sticking up in places and his eye bags were worse than usual. He was almost convinced he was taking this harder than he was.

Sanford gave him a sympathetic look, not bothering to let go of Deimos' hand. "I know you hate making promises, but can you make me one...?" 

Deimos' eyebrows knitted together and he pursed his lips for a moment before he nodded. "Alright."

"Don't go dying on me, especially by the agency. I don't think I can handle loosing you to them too... Alright?" Sanford asked, looking at Deimos to gauge his reaction.

Deimos smiled, giving Sanford's hand a firm reassuring squeeze. "I promise."

Chapter Text

Hank whined, squirming on the floor next to the desk as a heavy sigh followed suit and looked up at Doc with pure desperation and want, leaning into him with another whine.

"Seriously?" Doc fixed Hank with a hard glare and turned his chair to face Hank entirely. "Hank you dog, give me an hour and you can go nuts squeezing the life out of me, easy nuff'?" 

Hank shook their head, the long claws (or practically a set of knives) that came from their MAG hand tapped the floor impatiently.

"That was a rhetorical question. Just hold your horses." Doc sighed as he turned back around.

"No." Hank forced out, narrowing his eyes at him.

Doc ran a tired hand through his mohawk. "I want you to give me one good reason why I should stop this very important thing to take a break."

Hand lifted a hand to pointed at themselves, the goggles on their head lifted so he could see the desperate puppy eyes they were giving him. 

Doc rested his face on the palm of his hand as he stared at Hank before biting his lip behind his mask and sighing in defeat. Damn Hank and his incessant whining. "Fine," Doc leaned forward in his chair so his elbows rested on his knees. "You get an hour, how about that?" 

Hank perked up, they didn't need to be told twice as they easily lifted Doc with only one arm and out of the office they went. Damn machine making Hank a MAG. Doc missed when he was only 2 inches shorter than the bastard. At least they were alive though.

With no effort Hank had dragging Doc to his demise of being crushed by the MAG, rubbing his head on Doc's while his entire body vibrated with the large purrs of Hank, a giant vibrating recliner almost.

Doc couldn't help the smile behind his mask though as Hank rubbed his arms, claws carefully tracing the tattoos on his hands as well, just drowning him in the best treatment he could get. With his shoulders easing into a relaxed position his work left his mind entirely and he reached up and scratched at what little of his head he could reach. 

"I love you, dumbass." Doc said, his eye squinting behind his mask to represent his smile.

Hank purred, face contorting as he talked. "I.. love you to." He replied.

Doc leaned back, eye sliding shut...

Before a thick tongue from hell licked up his face making him jump.

"AUGH!- DAMNIT HANK!" 

Hank only threw their head back and laughed.

He loved tormenting his little fake medic. 

Chapter Text

"Damnit!" Hank huffed in annoyance, looking up at the window he rubbed his elbow with a slight wince. He swore these windows were built from titanium.

He was starting to second guess himself as he broke into this house. His father had drunkenly complained constantly about not having anything to pay rent and Hank was quite tired of having his stuff forcefully taken and pawned and Hank wasn't old enough to work yet, so here he was crouched in some garden of a house he had no way into.

Or so he thought.

As he scanned the backyard carefully, his eyes landed on a small garden, clearly abandoned as the soil was dug at and barren and the rocks outlining the garden were thick and heavy.

Perfect.

Hank made his way across the garden and easily picked up one of the stones, looking back at the window he approached and brought up the rock with a small grunt of effort and smashed the stone into the window, a satisfying spiderweb crack appearing on the window making Hank grin. One more hit and the glass shattered loudly, sending the shards onto the hardwood floors inside and making Hank wince. He quickly dropped the stone and crawled inside as quickly as possible, dragging a black backpack behind them.

Hank grunted in annoyance as they stumbled, trying to stop themselves from dropping onto the dish rack under the window, shoving it aside carelessly they slipped inside and sat on the counter, staying completely silent and listening carefully as they held their breath. They were absolutely sure that no one was home and prayed to whatever higher power was out there he was right. 

His heart sank to his stomach at the sound of shuffling and a jingle but he let out a sigh of relief as a cat jumped onto the counter infront of him, a small tortoiseshell with gray lining her muzzle. 

"Oh thank god." Hank sighed, sliding off the counter he approached the cat carefully who stared at him with a questioning look but closed her eyes as Hank carefully pet her on the head, quickly pulling away to scan his surroundings.

Ignoring the shards of the shattered window and dirt from Hank's shoes on the floor and counter, it was very nicely taken care of. The carpet was unstained and looked recently vacuumed, the couch was clean other than the white fur covering it, belonging to the second cat who laid curled up on the couch, paws sticking in the air still dead asleep. The living room was nicely decorated and photos lined the walls depicting 4 flaming figures, all with varying expressions, the edges of the picture blurring to indicate that the one taking the picture had caught them all by surprise. Similar photos lined the walls in frames and pictures of the animals. The small tortoiseshell, who was named Callie by the text under her photo, the white cat named Egg, and a big gray dog named Cinder.

Hank stepped further into the house, scanning the living room of any valuables worth his time before slowly going down the hallway before opening a door with the name "Conductor" branded in neat blue print on the whiteboard stuck to the front of the white door and letting out a small laugh at the "sux" written in black under it. 

Stepping inside Hank stared in awe as the light turned on as soon as he entered, blue LEDS lining the walls with posters of games Hank wished he could afford... But he wouldn't have to wish any longer, as he shoved whatever he thought was of value into the backpack he carried, stepping out as quickly as he entered to avoid thinking twice about his mission. 

Next was the one adjacent to it, written in red was "Auditor", nicely decorated with small doodles of the tortoiseshell cat he met earlier. Inside was similar to the previous, lights flicking on as soon as he entered but the room was much darker, the bulb in the light a dark red, making the room feel warm and comfortable. A desk with a PC and a glowing mouse connected to it laid in the corner and a picture of a small kitten holding a mouse toy rested on the corner. The walls were undecorated except a full length mirror, his reflection simply staring back at him.

Most noticeably to Hank though was the flashing red light on the desk, belonging to a small security camera pointing directly at him.

Shit.

Hank backed out quickly, closing the door and backing away. The owners weren't home anyway. He had plenty of time if he moved quickly.

Vrr Vrr 

Shuffling in his seat he pulled his phone out, looking at the single notification on the screen. 

"Motion Detection in: Room - 6:32 PM"  

Frowning the Auditor turned to his brother. "You closed my door like I had asked of you, correct?" He asked, Conductor not taking his eyes off the road as he drove. 

"Affirmative." Conductor replied. 

The Auditor went silent.

"That security camera go off? Probably your dumb snake getting out of her cage again." Stygian said, leaning forward to look over the Auditor's shoulder and ignoring the big dog that slobbered all over the window next to xem as they passed other cars.

"Last I checked my snake didn't look like a child." Auditor said, straighting in its seat as it showed its phone to xem, xyr eyes widened in surprise. 

"Well, I'll be damned." Stygian leaned back with a contemplative look. "About time that thing came in handy. Might wanna step on it, Condi. Our house got broken into." Xe said.

"Seriously? Call Deliberator, we left her at home." Conductor replied, speeding up slightly to hurry home.

"On it." Auditor replied. 

Hank peered into another room, ignoring the writings on the doors to take anything they could get and get out. They slipped in quickly and scanned the shelves of books filled with fighting cats Hank had read a million times before, cook books and debating books. Candles and jars sat on top and a few skulls of animals Hank didn't recognize but looked cool enough for them to grab. 

They were so caught up in their search they jumped at the faint sound of ringing, turning to the source Hank's heart dropped at the realization of another figure in the room with them, shifting and getting annoyed as the buzzing continued. 

Hank felt his legs start going weak as his fear raised in his throat and ducking under the bed, frozen as he heard it sit up quickly, searching for its phone before grabbing it. "Mhm? What's up?" It asked, voice slurred with sleep as it listened to the person on the other end speak.

"What? Your serious?" It asked, voice becoming more alert as it got up, shuffling to the edge of the bed and paced around the room.

Hank shrunk back further as he watched it pace, a flaming body and digitigrade legs with large claws extending out of its toes were almost enough to make Hank's blood run cold. One stomp and he'd probably break a leg.

 A small beep indicated that the call had ended and the hunt began. Her steps were quiet and gentle to not make the floor creak as she carefully searched the room, when she decided that the intruder wasn't there she left.

Hank let out a breath as they crawled out after another minute, dusting the fur off their hoodie they peered into the hallway. "I'm faster than these guys, surely." Hank though as they opened the door further, wincing at the loud creak that followed. They took a deep breath and prayed their shorter legs could carry them fast enough to not get caught by the flaming being wandering the house. 

Hank stepped into the hallway and made a run for it, heart thundering in their chest and it nearly stopped as the flaming figure lunged out in front of them, his eyes narrowed and claws extending from his fingers, eyes widening last minute as Hank ran straight into him sending both parties to the ground, Hank letting out a yelp of pain as their head collided with the corner of the wall, stars danced across their vision as they staggered to their feet, the shout the other made incomprehensible as they stood there, trying to get a grip on where they needed to go.

Hank froze, the front door swinging open and there stood the flaming figures he recognized from the photos on the walls. They were much taller in person. 

A long stretch of silence followed as they could only stare at each other before a long whine rang out from the dog beside the blue one, tugging on her leash she ripped it from his grasp and fur raised she ran at the intruder.

Hank would've cried from embarrassment at the scream he let out, high pitched and cracking like a school girl as he turned to run, only getting to the counter before sharp teeth sank into his leg, making him fall to the ground and yell, tugging back and dragging him further into the house.

"CINDER, HEEL!" A voice yelled, the teeth in his leg releasing as the dog simply walked and sat down beside The Conductor.

"Why didn't you call her immediately?! That's a child you know!" The Deliberator yelled as she picked herself up off the ground, glaring at her brother before looking at Hank was was left on the floor shaking, tears streaming down his face as he hyperventilated.

"What do we do? Call the Sheriff?" Stygian asked, tilting xyr head as xe examined Hank carefully.

"Maybe call his parents? Though we should patch him up first." Deliberator said, stepping closer to Hank and lifting him to his feet, who seemingly gave up on whatever tough act he used to barrel past them earlier, simply crumpling into a shaking and sobbing mess as he shook his head desperately.

"My dad would kill me, literally." Hank managed out, looking up with pleading eyes.

The Deliberator went quiet, purr eyes squinted in thought before purr turned to the others, waiting for their input.

Stygian sighed, pushing past the other 2. "Put him on the couch. I'll get the first aid kit." Xe said, walking down the hall to what Hank presumed was the bathroom.

The Auditor looked at Conductor who nodded and called for Cinder to follow, putting her in his bedroom and walking out with his arms crossed, watching as Deliberator picked up Hank with ease and sat him on the couch, the white cat that was on the couch meowing loudly, heterochromatic eyes gleaming as Deliberator pet her. 

Stygian came back quickly, opening the first aid kit. "Audie, Condi. Make yourself useful and get an icepack and towels. Your idiot dog probably did a number on him." Xe said, pulling up Hank's pant leg. 

"I.. uh." Hank tried to speak, the words sticking in his throat and choking out before he could say them, sighing miserably as he gave up.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, breaking into peoples houses." Stygian scolded, xyr eyes narrowed at Hank as xe worked. 

Deliberator nodded in agreement. "All of our things hold very personal value to us, we'd be devastated if we lost all of that." Purr said, purr eyes glaring at Hank making them almost wince, taking comfort in the white cat sat beside him on the couch as he pet her long fluffy fur. 

Auditor approached as it stared down at Hank with a judgemental glare, handing the requested items to Stygian who let out a small hum as thanks. 

Hank glanced over at The Conductor, who retrieved their backpack from the ground and was searching through it. They couldn't stare long, staring down at the bleeding bites on his ankle instead.

The silence was horrible and the air was suffocating as Hank was sweating bullets. It was hard to tell if it was because he was nervous or the heat of the flaming bodies of the weird fire beings surrounding him.

"There." Stygian finally said, leaning back and admiring xyr handy work. 

"If you know your address we can drive you home." Deliberator said, purrs head tilting in question. 

Hank quietly shook their head. 

"What kind of kid doesn't know their address?" Conductor sneered.

"Be quiet. You couldn't remember ours till you were almost an adult!" Stygian snapped, xyr eyes narrowed and the flames on xyr body growing larger.

"Will you both stop squabbling? Every day with you two." Auditor sighed, pressing two fingers to its temple with a tired sigh.

"Alright, shorty. I'll can it for later." Stygian replied, smile evident on xyr face as the flames on the Auditor's body rose and he stomped his foot in frustration.

"Uh... I can just... Walk home." Hank spoke quietly, not daring to meet the eyes of the others.

"It's dark out, no way." Deliberator said.

"Phone number?" Stygian asked. 

Hank shook his head.

"Friends phone number?"

He shook his head again.

A long stretch of silence fell over them all, the only sounds being that of the loud noise of the cat next to Hank cleaning her fur before Deliberator spoke.

"He could always stay-" 

"Not happening." Auditor cut in immediately. 

"Oh come on, get that stick out of your ass and be a little empathetic for once." Deliberator said.

"I'm being logical, he just tried stealing our stuff." Auditor replied. 

Conductor sighed heavily. "Let em' stay. I'm locking my door." He said, stretching as he yawned.

The Auditor closed his eyes and sighed, giving up on arguing as he leaned back on the counter. "Fine." 

"Glad we could agree." 

Hank watched as Deliberator's eyes squinted to represent their grin before turning to Hank, opening their clawed hands appeared a blanket out of thin air and Stygian laughed from behind them at Hank's bewilderment.

"It's late," standing up to xyr full height xe looked over xyr (what Hank assumed to be) siblings before sighing. "I'm going to bed." With a wave of xyr hand xe stepped up the small flight of stairs and into xyr bedroom.

The other 3 mumbled their goodnights before turning to each other. 

"I agree with xem. After getting tackled by a child I wanna knock out." Deliberator said, standing and stretching with a groan. "You two as well." 

Conductor hummed. "Yeah, I will." He replied, not bothering to say anything more as he left.

Auditor stayed silent, even as Deliberator instructed Hank to lay down and sleep it's eyes burned into him, making him squirm uncomfortably. 

"Audie!" Deliberator snapped purr fingers and glared at him. "Come on, we've got stuff to do in the morning." 

Auditor closed it's eyes and stood, trailing up the stairs with a leisurely pace as Deliberator turned to Hank. 

"We'll see you out in the morning. I just hope you're parents don't worry." Deliberator said.

"He won't." Hank replied, frowning slightly in disdain that made Deliberator hum, but they only shrugged.

"See you in the morning then." They said, with a flick of their hand the lights turned off, their glowing white eyes disappearing up the stairs.

As Hank settled down to sleep they couldn't help but feel like they had eyes piercing into them from afar.

And even as they were seen out by the flaming beings and sneaking back into the house past his father he still felt watched. 

He decided to play it off as his paranoia. Being followed by glaring red eyes only happened in the movies.

Right?

Chapter Text

Doc closed the car door and squinted up at the bright neon sign that let out a gentle hum as it shone through the fog that resulted from the heavy rain, a bar located just barely on the outskirts of Nevada Central.

Deimos had been missing for some time before the others had started to worry, Doc just as close to the verge of his own panic attack as he reassured them that he'd be fine and he'd hunt him down and retrieve his sorry ass in one piece... Hopefully.

His hunt for Deimos had eventually ended him where he was now, soaking wet and walking into a loud and noisy bar full of loud drunks and people just relaxing. He hated it. Weaving his way through the tables and people he eventually stopped at a table tucked into a far wall, where Deimos sat with a blank expression, idly tracing the rim of his glass with his finger. If it weren't for how Deimos swayed slightly in his seat he might've almost believed he was sober. Doc approached silently, knocking once on the table to get Deimos' attention, whose head snapped up immediately in response, his spirits seeming to lift the moment he laid eyes on Doc.

"Doooc!! Oh my god, what're you doin' out here?" Deimos slurred, prepping his head on the palm of his hand as he smiled.

"Getting your sorry ass home before you pass out or get yourself hurt." Doc replied flatly, grabbing Deimos' arm and attempting to pull him out of his seat as Deimos resisted.

"Aww c'mon. Sit down n' join me for a minute, will ya?" Deimos asked, twisting his arm out of Doc's grasp.

"You know I don't drink anymore." Doc replied, eye narrowing as he grew impatient. 

Deimos slouched his seat as he stared at Doc with mild disappointment. "I still don't get why." Deimos said.

"Wh- You don't know why?" Doc stared in disbelief, Deimos would've probably laughed at how flabbergasted he looked if it weren't for how tense Doc became. "Deimos you idiot, you witnessed first hand why I stopped drinking remember? Before we escaped the agency together?" 

Deimos hummed, his brow furrowed in thought as he scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Meeh, I got nuttin'." Deimos said after a second, shrugging his shoulders as Doc stared at him in shock.

"If you're trying to play a joke on me it really isn't funny." Doc growled, crossing his arms as he stared down at him.

"M' bein' serious." Deimos replied, throwing his hands up lazily in mock surrender.

Doc lifted his mask, pressing his fingers into the space between his eyes in disappointment before looking back at him. "I beat someone to death right in front of you last time I was drunk." Doc finally sighed out.

Deimos' eyebrows shot up and he sat up fully. "Oh yeah!! Eh- Oh no." Deimos sat back down as quickly as he had shot up. "Now I remember... Jesus I still get nightmares from that." 

Doc only shook his head, extending his hand towards Deimos he blinked tiredly. "Come on Dei, I'm not staying out here all night I've got things to do." 

"When's the last time we've hung out?" Deimos questioned, staring at Doc's hand before gently brushing it aside. "Work this, type that, documenting, spying, malware... Come on man. When's the last time we sat down and sent porn viruses to the agency for fun?" 

Doc's shoulders slumped as he sighed. "We just don't have any time for that-" 

"I have time for that, Hank does to, same with Sanford. Fuck maybe even Phobos would have time for it. You're the one workin' yourself into the ground here bud." Deimos objected, grabbing the half empty glass on his table and downing the rest of it. "You stress me out dude."

Doc could only stare at Deimos before adverting his gaze away from the accusatory glare. "Where's this coming from?"

"I've been thinkin' bout it for weeks! You're my dad, I'd think that maybe you'd pick up on it earlier! Is that how parenting works, just wait till their old enough and stop caring?" Deimos asked, the crack in his voice obvious even as he cleared his throat to hide it.

"No no, of course not. You know I wouldn't stop caring about you ever, I'm all the way out here soaking wet because I was worried about you!" Doc reassured, finally reaching forward and after Deimos lifted his hands held them in his own. "If you wanted to do something you can always ask. I was kinda starting to miss those viruses myself." 

Deimos looked up from their hands to look Doc in the eye, his frown deepening as his gaze froze to the bit of the scar visible under his mask. "I hate that you got that thing." Deimos said, reaching up and lifting Doc's mask as he stared at the permanently closed, sunken in place where his right eye use to be. "Risked your damn life for us and got a permanent injury for 2 dumbasses like us." 

Doc's gaze hardened. "And I'd do it again if I had to."

Deimos' gaze turned into a frown, leaning back in his seat. "Why?" 

"Why?" Doc scoffed. "What kind of question is that? You're my son, Deimos! I'll be honest when I say I never intended on adopting or having kids but my damn soft heart couldn't let some engineers shoot a scared and confused newly made agent because he was smaller." 

Deimos let out an airy laugh as he scrubbed at his eyes with his palms. "Yeah, you're right." 

Doc laughed a little as well. "If you really want that, then I can hang out here." Doc said as he rounded the table, sitting in the opposite seat. 

Deimos perked up. "Hell yeah! I've been waitin' to do this forever!" Deimos slumped forward onto the table with a grin. "Y'know- I got plenty of ideas for us to make together. Fuck with the agency like the ol' days." 

Doc leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "I'm listening." 

Doc snorted as he laughed, he eventually gave in and got something small, not wanting to bend to his old habits, while Deimos was leaned back cackling about a stupid plan of how they could possibly mess with the agency and get on their nerves.

"I could literally make a worm virus for em, spread it to every agency computer possible that can replicate it's self constantly but just, have it be the stupidest fuckin' image we have." Deimos chuckled, grabbing his glass and taking a sip.

"We could do that in a few weeks flat. Get some passwords from the dumb bastards as well." Doc replied.

Deimos opened his mouth to reply before a loud bang rang out through the bar causing the bar to fall silent and making both Doc and Deimos jump, both looking at each other in confusion before turning to the bullet hole in the wall right between them.

"Oh fuck." Doc glared at the bullet hole before turning to look at a pair of agents, both glaring at Doc and Deimos.

Deimos instead grinned. "Aww speak of the devil." 

Doc looked at Deimos, eyebrows furrowed. "Deimos, no way in hell are we starting a fight in here." Doc whispered.

"Why not?! Come on!" Deimos whispered back, shifting in his seat giddily and his hands shook, practically begging for a fight.

"I left my gun in the car and you're shit-faced, that is a recipe for bad." Doc replied.

"You've got your knives. I know you always carry two." Deimos replied.

"...." Doc pursed his lips in thought. It was the worst idea to ever be conceived, that was obvious, but he is spending time with him. Why call it quits now? 

Doc hoisted himself in his chair just enough to pull the knives from the garters on his thighs, taking the second and stabbing it into the table making Deimos jump so hard it made him chuckle. "You get an injury I'm not stitching you back together." 

Deimos' toothy grin returned as he pulled it out from the table, looking over it with a satisfied nod. "You got it."

Doc slowly grinned back. God damn he missed these.

"DOC WE'RE GETTIN' OVER RAN HERE!-"

"GO GO GO!-" 

Doc shoved Deimos forward, squeezing through a mass of flailing people as he dodged and weaved punches and knives. 

He didn't miss bar fights as much as he use to he's found, or maybe they were less fun when you weren't shit faced drunk, or the fact he had a life on the line he deeply cared for.

Either way, he decided now was about time they got the fuck out of there.

Deimos was cackling beside him, looking around at the fray seemingly impressed they had caused so much. "Holy shit! We need to do this again!" 

"AGAIN!? Are you fuckin' crazy!?" Doc looked at Deimos like he had grown a second head. 

"Who do you think I get it from!?" Deimos replied. 

Doc had only rolled his eye, shoving him through the bar doors, slowing down only once they had gotten to the car Doc had driven here.

Deimos was panting beside him, leaning over the hood with small laughs. "Augh fuck my head hurts." Deimos chuckled.

"Oh, I wonder why." Doc snarked, struggling to open the door and turn on the damn air conditioning and sit down.

"Fuck off." Deimos slurred as he leaned up and clutched his head with a groan. "I think m" gunna be sick." 

"I'm coming give me a minute." Doc grumbled, reaching into the back to pull out the waters from the floorboards. "Don't throw up on my car or you will be washing it." 

"Get that stick outta your ass, I already don't feee-" Deimos gagged, shivering in disgust before doubling over and gagging again.

Doc only sighed, getting up and moving behind Deimos to grab his unruly hair and keep it out of his face. "Dumbass." Doc laughed as Deimos gasped for air.

"Cunt." Deimos jabbed, before hurling onto the concrete.

Yup, that's definitely his son right there.

And he couldn't have asked for a better one. 

Chapter Text

Doc was adventurous. The one thing he loved to do the most was to get out of the crusty, stuffy office he confined himself in and actually do something for once. One of those things was exploring buildings. He use to do it all the time in his younger years, running away from the police as he ran out of all the places he had broken into with his old friends when skipping school and it still held true, the only difference was that most of those friends were dead and he could just break into any place he felt like without having to worry about whatever consequence it could have... Unless he ran into someone living there, but it's not like he couldn't fix up a few little bullet holes or drag himself out of purgatory for the 23rd time. 

Though the thought of running into someone didn't occur to Doc as he forced his way into a building, only carrying a simple pistol on him and a backpack to take any useful supplies to patch up the hooligans back at base. It was a large desolate building full of dust that made him sneeze and cough, empty bottles, graffiti of foul language and crude drawings, and overall just a filthy mess. Nothing huge in terms of a building. At most he could note the white coats stained in dark stains and the test equipment that was thrown around and phasing into the walls. Surprisingly, not the most obscure thing he's seen, but whatever inhabited this building was strange.

And it only enticed him further. 

He clicked on a flashlight and shined it down the maze of hallways and corridors, squinting up at signs to point him in any direction that would be useful only to be met with long dark scratches he couldn't read. With a shrug Doc stepped into the maze and decided to just get himself lost, sticking closely to the right wall as he went. All he could do was hope to run into the infirmary or the main lab and grab whatever he wanted or could fit into his bag. 

It was a boring, fruitless journey for a while until he heard it. 

A loud static buzzing that made his head pound and his vision blur, what little color the building has smearing together in a mess of grays and reds. Doc did love the other worldly and the supernatural, but he didn't appreciate when it negatively effected him. A loud groan followed after the buzzing, getting louder and louder as whatever was making it got closer... Not good.

Sticking to the wall was no longer a viable option as whatever it was probably wasn't intending on keeping their meeting civil. Bolting down the hall away from the noise and through multiple doors he ran, no longer bothering to try and read whatever sign post were on the walls, turning sharp corners and tripping on litter he scrambled to get the hell out of there. 

But, as per usual, luck was not on his side, pressing the handle on one of the doors it only moved slightly, blocked by a large pile of trash bins and chairs on the other side that with no matter how much he shoved refused to move in the slightest. Shit.

The buzzing increased, a loud scrape like nails on a chalk board echoed behind him, making him wince and turn to face the figure that swayed at the end of the hall, it's silhouette glitched frantically as Doc turned to face it, tilting it's head at him with a loud pop of it's neck. 

Doc scrambled for the pistol on his hip, holding it up with a glare. "Get back or else! I just want to get out of this building!" Doc shouted, though the being only perked at his words, stepping closer with it's floating hand firmly pressed to the wall to support itself, the flaps of flesh that remained on it's face fluttered as it breathed heavily with effort and it's skull under the flesh had nothing but black holes where eyes had once been, even the skull had chips and scratches on it. 

The being groaned, reaching out with a hand as it got closer and Doc's heart raced. "Damnit! I just need supplies to take care of my family at base! Leave me alone!" Doc snapped.

It stopped, staring at him with a blank expression (Not that it could express). It scraped its claws down the wall again, making Doc wince. 

Slowly it opened it's mouth, a deep rasping voice coming out of it. "You're not one of them." It breathed.

Doc raised an eyebrow in confusion, easing himself from being pressed into the corner. "One of them? Whose 'them'?" Doc asked.

"Those... Horrible people. The scientist... Who are you?" It asked, stepping closer once more, making Doc press himself into the corner again.

"My name is Doc." Doc answered, reaching his hand forward for it to shake, but it stared straight ahead.

"Doc... Doc. Such an interesting name." It advanced once more, coming close enough for it to bump into Doc's hand, causing its form to glitch out and making Doc jump.

Doc opened his mouth to apologize before it slowly reached forward, feeling around before gripping his hand with both of its own, it's flesh was shockingly cold and it shook violently as it felt his hand.

"You're warm." It stated, running its fingers over his own and feeling out every detail it could get from his hand. 

"And you're freezing." Doc replied.

It's form glitched as he spoke. "You have tattoos." It spoke to itself more so than to him, letting go of his hand it reached forward placing it's hands on his shoulders. "You're also tall." 

Doc nodded, deciding to let whatever sentient science experiment this was explore. "I wouldn't call myself tall. Pretty standard I'd say." 

It slowly lifted its hands from his shoulders. "I never asked. Is it alright to touch you?" It asked, to which Doc nodded in response. When it only stared blankly at him Doc finally spoke.

"You can't see, can you?" Doc asked.

It nodded slowly. "The concrete took my vision. It was taken from me so suddenly it is hard adjusting. Those scientist and engineers..." It trailed off. "They called me Scrape Face... I don't remember my life before." 

Doc frowned. Damn agency and their sick experiments, but unfortunately Doc wasn't surprised. Slowly he reached forward and rested his other hand on his shoulder. "They've hurt me too, it's alright." Doc reassured.

It jolted at his touch but instead of back away it stepped forward, taking Doc's gesture as an invite to envelop Doc in a tight hug, trapping Doc between itself and the wall behind him in any search of his warmth.  

It caught Doc off guard but he couldn't find it in himself to push it away from him, deciding to hug it back and let it rest on him, it's form glitching horribly for only a second before it calmed down and quelled its happiness into simple low and loud purring.

He was happy to at least provide comfort to another victim of the Agency and their torment. He would gladly stay there as long as it took to make it feel better. 

Chapter Text

Holy shit.

Those were the first words that came to Sanford's mind as he looked at the box before him. He found the rarest thing in all of Nevada... A toy. Finding a fake foam bow that was chock full of foam and rubber arrows in a box was the most exciting thing that anyone could've possibly asked for in a dull place like this.

Sanford tried his hardest to remain vigilant when out doing something important, especially when by himself when he noticed they were short on a few things. He always enjoyed the praises he got for getting things without anyone asking and he just liked to be helpful when he could in a rough place like this... That did not exclude him from a little tom foolery though. 

Sanford's hands shook as he dragged the box closer, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt as he pulled out the bow, which was surprisingly intact and clean, painted black and red with a shiny gloss to finish it off. While everything in him was telling him to leave the bow behind and take what really was important he knew the stupid toy would keep him up at night, and without a second thought he picked up the box, threw what he had gathered in with it and walked straight back to the truck with a proud bounce to his step. 

Sanford made sure to not tell anyone about what he'd found, he got out the array of canned food, pill bottles and other useful gadgets and handed them over to Doc, who told him he did wonderfully today. Any technical stuff Doc wouldn't find useful he gave to Deimos, who did his happy jumps as he stored them in his hoard of stuff for when he felt bored and wanted to make something dumb, and a simple little knife for Hank, though not saying much seemed appreciative that Sanford had thought of him at all. 

Not once did he bother to mention the gift he had gotten for himself. He much preferred giving gifts for others and was perfectly content with that. For once he was giddy over something for himself, which was strange but the thought of using the bow made him squirm with happiness.

The opportunity finally came when Deimos was being particularly annoying, making a small bot he could control with his tablet at the table when the four of them sat down to eat for once. The bot was drifting around the table, tipping over an empty glass which Hank wordlessly sat back up and Deimos kept cackling like a hyena on laughing gas every time.

"Deimos, can't you use your robots for something useful instead of annoying us?" Doc asked, pushing the bot away from his plate as it whirred angrily in protest.

"That's boring! I think I'm using my little guy just right." Deimos replied, tapping a few buttons on his tablet it spun in circles and knocked directly into Sanford's cup, sending it clattering onto the table, though the cup was empty Sanford only stared down at it with a straight face, hand twitching in annoyance as he held back from throwing the thing like a softball. "Oops." Deimos chuckled, the little bot ran into his hand repeatedly as he sat his cup upright. "Sorry San." 

The tapping was the last straw, Sanford standing abruptly from his seat and the chair fell back with a clatter, Deimos immediately shrinking back in his seat fearfully, Doc only looked on with a neutral expression and Hank seemed excited for whatever was about to happen next like it was an episode of his favorite reality TV show. 

Sanford said nothing as he turned and walked out the front door to the truck, leaving everyone collectively confused and sharing confused glances until Sanford kicked the door back open, brandishing the bow in hand he lifted it and only took a second to aim the rubber arrow directly at Deimos head.

Deimos screamed, the arrow smacking him in the head and sent him to the ground flailing helplessly. Doc jumped in surprise before his shock melted into laughter, covering his face to try and hide his snorting and Hank chuckled as Deimos sat up, looking absolutely bewildered.

"What the fuck!? Where did you get that!?" Deimos asked, looking at the arrow that had ricocheted off his head onto the floor and picking it up.

"I found it when I was out today. I was saving it for something exactly like this." Sanford replied, his straight face twitching into a large, sinister grin as he slowly took aim again, enjoying the show as Deimos scrambled to get up and run only to shoot him in the back of the head, making him face plant onto the floor and making Doc snort harder with laughter.

Deimos picked up the arrow and threw it at Sanford. "Asshole!" He yelled, but the grin on his face proved he wasn't angry.

Sanford narrowed his eyes mischievously. "I'll stop only if you promise to not bring robots to the table." 

"HA!" Deimos threw his head back and laughed. "It's going to take more than that to stop me, Sanny boy!" 

Sanford slowly lowered his bow. "Hey Hank... Wanna test this thing out?" Sanford asked, looking at Hank who let out a dark chuckle.

"I thought you'd never ask." They said as they stood from the table, taking the fake weapon from Sanford and aiming right at Deimos, pulling the arrow back as far as they possibly could without breaking it. 

Deimos was nervous now, a bead of sweat gathered on his forehead as he grinned, holding up an arm and looking away to shield his face. "H-Hey, no need to take drastic measures dude!" 

"Deimos Tobar Ordaz, you look at me when I'm talkin' to you!" Sanford yelled, making Deimos snap to attention in a heartbeat. "Promise you won't bring robots to the table." 

Deimos swallowed thickly, standing stiff as a board as he nervously glanced at Hank. "Okay, okay, I promise! Please, just anyone but Hank!"  

A long stretch of silence followed before Sanford turned to Hank, both sharing a look and without exchanging a word Hank released the arrow, hitting Deimos right in the gut and making him double over with a groan. 

"You bitch!-" Deimos wheezed. 

"I think it's deserved." Hank said as he handed Sanford back the bow.

"You suck." Deimos said, though his smile betrayed his words.

"Love you too, Dei." 

Chapter Text

Deimos' hands shook violently and he was sweating bullets, twirling his necklace in his hands to try calming himself as best as he could.

It took him ages to think this through. A constant war with himself through breakdowns, an embarrassing search history, and more stress than he could imagine. He had figured it out but his worst nightmare was yet to come... Actually revealing the fact that he liked more than just women as well.

He didn't know who to tell first. Sanford was a strong first option, as he was open about liking men and women, Hank was a close second considering they already had everything figured out but before he could even tell them anything they had already sniffed him out and just said "good for you." And went off on their way.

Which in all honesty Deimos was relieved with... His biggest fear though was the person he knew all his life.

Doc.

Deimos paced outside his office for ages, reciting a non existent script in hopes that he could blurt it out and die right on the spot to not face anything that came afterwards. He wished he would've just passed out to avoid the confrontation as he opened the door, not bothering to knock at all as Doc spun in his chair to face him, his expression unreadable from under his facial gear but seemingly annoyed as his shoulders hunched forwards.

"You know, it's polite to knock." Doc gripped, spinning back around to continue his work, picking apart a PC for whatever reason.

"I... Um." Deimos started to shake, he felt light headed, and his stomach started to churn. He wasn't particularly interested in throwing up in his fathers office so he was glad he didn't bother eating that day.

Doc shot a look at him over his shoulder, eyebrow quirked up in a mix of confusion and concern. "What? One of you didn't do anything I have to fix, did you?" Doc asked.

"Nnnnooo- No not that, this is something else-" Deimos ran a hand down his face, taking a breath, he decided delaying the inevitable wasn't going to help him. "Dad, I'm gay... Well, sort of, I don't have an exact name for it yet but, I like more than just women, alright?" Deimos forced out, closing his eyes to avoid seeing Doc's reaction, the silence that stretched out felt like it lasted forever before Doc finally spoke up.

"Cool, me too." Doc replied.

Deimos paused, the instant relief of not getting a disapproving sneer made him light headed before the other half of Doc's sentence smacked him in the face like a brick. "Huh?"

"Yeah, I thought that was obvious." Doc said, lifting his mask to look at Deimos properly and his face was one of amusement. "You don't have to stress about that stuff. Honestly, I'm more surprised you didn't say something earlier." 

Deimos could only stare at Doc in stunned silence... He honestly should have put 2 and 2 together when Doc was pretty close with a few agents back in the agency.

"Oh." Was all Deimos got out.

"You know I'd never be upset with you over something out of your control, Dei. I'm happy you got the confidence to tell me though." Doc smiled at Deimos as he moved his mask back into place. "Good for you though." 

Deimos ran his hands tiredly down his face, the nervous sweat he worked up making his hands grossly wet. "I spent all that time pacing outside your office for that." 

Doc let out an amused huff. "I was wondering what you were doing out there." 

Deimos' head shot up. "How'd you know I was out there!?" 

"Oh come on," Doc spun in his chair once again, fully facing Deimos once again as he crossed his arms. "I might be in my 40's but my brain hasn't deteriorated that much. Any brain cells I loose is from you assholes." 

Deimos only shook his head. "We're getting off topic-"

"Surprised you noticed."

"So you aren't upset? You accept the fact that I like men?" Deimos asked, just needing the reassurance.

"Far from upset. I'm proud of you." Doc replied.

Deimos took a pause, his chest tightening at that phrase. Doc used it sparingly and every time he heard it he would nearly die from happiness.

"Thanks, dad." Deimos sighed, scratching his arm to help alleviate some of his fleeting stress.

 "No need to thank me, Dei." Doc replied. 

A small moment of silence followed before Doc sat down the wires he held and opened an arm invitingly, Deimos not missing a second as he stepped forward and crushed Doc in a hug. 

"Love you." Deimos mumbled into Doc's shoulder. 

Doc smiled. "Love you too." He said, ruffling Deimos' long hair. 

And Deimos beamed. It felt so good to be accepted.

Chapter Text

Truth be told, as a MAG there wasn't much knocking around in Hank's noggin besides the occasional thought of where his teammates went, he was hungry or thirsty, needed to take a piss or the overwhelming urge to bite the hand Doc put forward to get Hank to get out of his personal space. Some other occasional thoughts of some joint pain which he would normally beg Sanford to help with, why Deimos was so short, and something about tearing apart the next living thing that crossed his path with his claws alone. Not to out of the ordinary even for Hank before that machine.

Currently, Hank sat on the floor, spacing in and out and letting whatever came up in their head be heard. A thought in particular made Hank sit up though.

'I have friends.' 

That sentence almost sounded like a foreign language truth be told as Hank wasn't exactly popular throughout their entire life, so friends was something different that actually meant good. Hank turned their head to the couch, Sanford sat down on as he watched Deimos use his pencil to draw whatever he felt like drawing, an occasional eye roll as Deimos drew phallic imagery in the corner of his sketches.

Friends.

They were friends.

Sanford was happy to help massage out any of Hank's aching joints as best he could without hesitation, Deimos would help Hank cut open things gently with his rock covered hands, as Hank's claws had gotten too large to do so without damaging whatever was inside the packaging, and in all honesty they owed a lot to Doc for dealing with their constant dying in general.

Those were friends.

He also had to appreciate how even though before he was a Half-MAG, snarky and distant as ever Sanford and Deimos were still kind enough to look out for him, recalling how he (begrudgingly) had thanked Sanford and Deimos for saving his ass and Deimos had wrapped his arm around Hank's shoulder and with a yellowed shark toothed grin had told him; "Of course! S' what pals are for, Hanky-panky!" and Sanford had clasped Hank on the back with a grin of his own. "What Dei said." He'd said. "Wouldn't be very nice of us not to. Just cuz' Doc can bring you back doesn't mean we should let you die." and Hank wanted to punch them both in the face. He didn't know what to say, so he had only grunted and walked away.

"Yoo-hoo, Haank." 

Hank blinked from behind their goggles, Sanford waving a hand in front of their face with a look of confusion.

"You in there bud? Should we get Doc?" Sanford asked, glancing back at Deimos who had shrugged.

Hank straightened up and stood slowly, Sanford and Deimos perking up at his movement. Hank's only thought that maybe he should return the favor... But just this once.

"You O.K.?" Deimos signed, head tilted to indicate his question.

"You were burning a damn hole into us. Thought something happened." Sanford said, leaning back a little to look at Hank's face properly.

Hank stared down at him, despite the lack of facial features to gauge from, Hank's expression went from distant to intense, if Sanford hadn't known any better he'd think Hank was trying to explode him with their mind (wouldn't be the first time).

"We do something?" Deimos questioned, his hands moving rapidly to convey his confusion. Looking relieved when Sanford shook his head. 

"Hank...?" Sanford finally stood, which is exactly what they had wanted. "You want the couu-! Oh!" 

Sanford would expect a lot of things from Hank, they were full of surprises, but somehow they managed to surprise him a little more everyday when he reached out and moved Sanford into an embrace, heavy jaw resting right on his head.

A long silence gripped the room for a moment and Sanford didn't move a muscle, which instantly had Hank regretting his decisions until Sanford spoke.

"D'aaww, you just needed a hug big guy? You could've asked instead of staring into my soul." Sanford laughed, returning the hug as best he could and scratching at Hank's back affectionately, which he knew Hank enjoyed a lot. 

Hank would return the favor but they didn't quite trust themselves with their claws, so they only purred, for once silently thanking that Sanford was the most physically affectionate and touchy person in the base. 

A loud stomp grabbed their attention, Deimos standing from the couch with an offended look on his face. "Where is mine!?" He signed quickly, looking at Hank with narrowed eyes. Hank released Sanford who patted them on the chest before stepping away and Hank had to bend down before properly being able to drag Deimos into his own hug, which Deimos let out a loud hum at, since he was unable to sign.

Hank pulled away and Deimos stepped back, eyes squinted to indicate his grin.

"What was that for?" Deimos signed, looking up at Hank expectantly, only frowning when Hank let out a gutteral grunt, moving to take their places on the couch and sprawling out across it, leaving no room for the other two and knocking Deimos' sketchbook to the ground.

"Hey bozo! If you wanted the couch you could've asked!" Sanford snapped, seemingly offended at Hank's not-elaborate scheme for the seat.

"Hrrnghg." Hank replied, grabbing both Sanford and Deimos and dragging them onto the couch, allowing them to to sit on lay on him to their hearts content in some half-assed cuddle pile, which Deimos openly took in stride and sprawling across Hank's back. 

Sanford shifted until he was comfortable, head resting on Hanks lower back. "You need to get better at communicating." Sanford said with a poke to the back of Hank's thigh making them huff.

"No." Hank grunted, resting their head on their normal arm and sighing, closing their eyes as Sanford rolled his behind his shades.

As Hank began to purr and provide a comfortable vibrating from the force of it, they decided they should be forcing his way into Deimos and Sanford's cuddling more often.

Chapter Text

The loud thuds of heavy, steel toed boots and his heavy breathing was overwhelming in the streets of his city, flittering newspapers caught on a lamp post his only company as paused to take a look at his streets.

Once bustling with people for jobs and friends were deathly quiet. Abandoned cars littered the streets, knocked over lampposts flickering and humming as they struggled to stay alive with their broken posts and wires. The silence was suffocating for once. Phobos had always asked for some peace and quiet from his loud mouthed, disobedient, and snarky scientists but now that he had it, he wished for nothing more than to hear the sharp voice of Dr. Crackpot yelling his plans to Phobos, Dr. Hofnarr's thick accent as he argued bravely about how some of the experiments were going nowhere and Dr. Christoff's droning voice as he insulted every fiber of Crackpot like it was breathing.

He found himself even missing the life he lived before he was appointed head of Project Nexus. Wandering around an agency building he'd known his entire life with the person he was cloned with causing trouble and having to be dragged back to his bedroom as the person he considered a father chastised them both for  their antics, but he'd had always admitted to finding it funny later. 

A quick shake of his head disbursed those memories immediately, making him snort in annoyance. Stupid. They were stupid and he had no use for those thoughts right now. Phobos twirled the bronze sun necklace between his fingers as he continued to walk, pressing the pads of his fingers into the small rays that sprawled out from the circle and tracing it's shape.

Damn it.

With a dramatic huff Phobos dropped the necklace and let it bounce back against his chest.

"Worked up over nothing. Anything new?" A voice snarked from beside him, causing Phobos to nearly jump out of his skin, fist up and ready to fight until his eyes wandered down to the shorter man who leaned on a lamp post and ran his fingers along the crescent moon necklace around his neck.

"What are-" Phobos began, venom dripping from his voice until the other let out a sharp exhale from clenched teeth.

"Not even a 'Oohh Deimos! I missed you soo much! My little baby brother!' Come on dude, at least pretend to be happy to see me!" Deimos chided.

Phobos was stunned into silence. He looked no different than when he last saw him. Shirt ripped through from the Auditor's harsh claws, burn marks littering his arms, blood soaked clothes and his hair reached just barely past his shoulder blades. Phobos couldn't bare to even look at him directly.

A long, drawn out sigh left Deimos as he fell back onto the lamp post. 

"My god, even after almost 10 years you still hate my guts for something you were in the wrong for." Deimos said as he crossed his arms, a hint pf exasperation in his tone.

"I'M in the wrong for!? You can't just!-" Phobos began before Deimos swiftly cut him off again.

"You haven't changed since we were fresh clones! You don't accept the blame for jack shit!" Deimos snapped, pushing himself off the lamp post once again. "I'm starting to think Uncle Hofnarr was right about you, you know." 

"Uncle Hofnarr. We aren't children and he's not even our real uncle!" Phobos interjected, crossing his arms firmly across his chest.

"Good for nothing...-" Deimos sneered before he jutted his hip the same way he always had, trying to mimic the disappointed father look they'd get often. "You could always treat me at least a little nicer. I was the one in that agency beatin' up people 5 times my size for callin' you googly eyes." 

Phobos' face flushed in embarrassment, adjusting the eye patch on his face self-consciously. "I never asked you to do that, you know."

"You did ask me something last time we saw each other." Deimos mumbled, if Phobos wasn't listening for his voice he would have missed that he'd even spoken at all.

Upon hearing those words though made Phobos freeze. He knew what it was, the words right on the tip of his tongue but he could only clench his fists and stare at Deimos. "What?"

Deimos fixed Phobos with such an icy look that even he was left wincing at it, gripping the necklace around his neck and throwing the crescent moon onto the sidewalk, the small ring as the metal hit the ground made his head hurt, the noise inconceivably loud to him.

"You asked me to no longer be your brother." 

Phobos stared down at the necklace, the world shifted under his feet as the world seemed to shake.

In the split second it took Phobos to blink he was faced with 2 figures, both roughly beaten and bloodied but still looked at him with all the love in the world until it flashed into betrayal.

In the place he'd watched the moon fall onto the concrete was replaced with the sun, the nevadian dirt kicked over top of it and a deep imprint of his boots surrounded it.

"I didn't ask to relive these stupid flashbacks!" Phobos snapped, glaring at Deimos who only cowered behind the other figure, but instead he shrunk away and looked at him with disdain, teeth bared as he was urged away from him and back to a stolen car, leaving Phobos alone, a flaming figure appearing beside him, deep voice rumbling in a growl as he spoke, but the ringing in Phobos' ears blocked out whatever he'd said, screwing his eyes shut to block out the stinging rising to his senses and opening them again in a new setting, the dread that set in immediately had made him want to hurl right then and there.

Phobos' helmet was off, carding a sweaty hand through his thick curly hair and cursing under his breath as the door behind him opened.

"Director." The stone cold tone of the scientist was laced with false sympathy.

"...What." Phobos' replied, trying to seem disinterested at the heavy, dull thud that rang out behind him.

"We... Found one of them. But-" 

"Don't say it." Phobos snapped, claws scratching the surface of the counter.

"Director, I'm sorry." 

Phobos' body moved against his will, turning slowly to face the thing on the table, the image still fresh in his skull as he stared.

"Doc Tadeo Ordaz." The scientist standing over the body drawled, writing something onto a clipboard with a deep frown of pity.

Phobos didn't want pity. 

The body on the metal table almost didn't look like him. The bandages on the right side of his face were bloodstained and covered in dirt, just like the rest of him. His expression was relaxed, like he had died in his sleep and a part of Phobos he'd thought had disappeared was happy it was at least somewhat peaceful.

He felt sick but he couldn't take his eyes off him.

"What happened?" Phobos finally asked, thanking his voice for not shaking at the sight.

"Sepsis." The scientist replied, setting his hands on Doc's face and turning it over, gently peeling away the thick coat of bandaging from his face, only making a face of disgust as the smell of infection and rotting flesh hit him. 

The deep red claw marks across his face were uneven and jutted from the struggle of prying off his attacker and uneven chunks of skin and flesh were left behind and the place where his eye would have been was nothing but maimed flesh, the little bit of eyelid left in tact closed as well and patches of darker flesh and blood where injuries caked over in scabs and sealed themselves back together as best they could.

Phobos had to look away, swallowing hard to keep himself from losing his lunch right then and there. "A..And Deimos?" Phobos forced out.

"The only signs of him we could find was the grave Doc was buried in marked with his writing and a shovel covered in burn marks since he can't quite control his powers. We searched around but we suspect he's alive." They answered, running a hand down Doc's arm and looking him over carefully for any other injuries. 

"Alright." Phobos sighed, a small part of him thankful for that. "Good."

A long stretch of silence followed as Phobos watched the scientist work, looking over Doc and when he finally managed to open Doc's remaining eye he shivered.

Phobos was no stranger to the lifeless eyes of a dead man, but it felt different looking at Doc's. His eye stared off distantly, a thin fog settled over his eye as well making the dark brown and strip of blue appear more gray than usual and with remaining hints of pain permanently set into them. 

It wasn't the overwhelming amount of love he'd normally look at Phobos with. 

It was betrayal.

Phobos could only stare, tears welding in his eyes as he stared, taking everything he had in him to not cry in front of the scientist examining his body. The silence was suffocating... Only broken by Phobos' scream as Doc's remaining eye moved, snapping to look Phobos'directly in the eyes before Phobos shot up from his bed.

Bed?

Fuck.

Phobos scrubbed at his eye, anger boiling over into frustrated tears and sweat as he growled.

Another night of this shit...

Chapter Text

"Y'know, I'm surprised I even managed to drag you outta your cave." Deimos chuckled from beside Doc, shooting him a toothy grin that got a scoff in response.

"Don't push your luck, Dei. I can always take this truck and leave you all behind out here." Doc replied.

"You'd be back in 2 minutes and you know it." Sanford chimed in from his other side, giving him a light nudge with his shoulder to which only made Doc hum.

"Keep telling yourself that." Doc said, though the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, despite how hard he tried to hide his smile.

"If you drove off, I'd chase after you and shoot out the tires." Hank said from behind Doc, leaned over and just barely leaning their head on his. Despite the fact it sounded like a threat, there was an underlying hint of playfulness in Hanks tone.

Doc chuckled at the image in his head. "Have fun repairing the car then." He shot back. He doesn't even trust Hank to drive half the time, he couldn't imagine him fixing a car.

Deimos took a long sip of his soda, crushing the can in his hand when it was empty and tossing it carelessly over the side of the truck, Sanford mimicking his actions and the sound of Hank's purring pressed against his back and the sounds of the straw in the aluminum can as Doc a sip of his own... It was nice.

He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten to relax. The agency always being on their ass, Hank's neediness, Deimos' chaos and Sanford's inability to properly give the other 2 a piece of his mind, he found himself usually multitasking more than anyone ever should... It felt off.

Doc's leg bounced restlessly, a bad habit he had for as long as he could remember. Sitting still was not his strong suit (maybe thats where Deimos got it from) and spending his time doing nothing felt off. He knew the anxiety of it all was from his time in the agency, drilling it into him that time spent doing nothing was time wasted, but-

"Dad!-" Deimos'voice broke through his thoughts, his head snapping into his direction, his usual relaxed expression contorted into one of mild concern. "I know that look. Come on, take a moment, will you?"

"You don't even have anything to work on. That's part of the reason we drove you out here." Sanford added, leaning forward slightly to look Doc in the eye properly, his shades resting on his forehead. 

"Part of the reason you drove me out here...?" Doc parroted, looking between the two with slight confusion.

"A collaborative idea... You look like shit, you know. The bags under your eyes could probably be used as a hand bag at this point." Deimos said with a wave of his hand before cracking open another soda.

Doc didn't have long to be offended at his comment before Sanford spoke. "You look exhausted, is what Dei is trying to say." Sanford said with a small glare at Deimos. "But he's still right. You need a fucking break, Doc. Please, for the love of god do yourself a favor and relax." 

Doc scoffed, frowning at the two he curled up on himself almost instinctively. "Not going to happen. If I take a break now, everything is going to pile up and just cause more stress. It's impossible for it not to with you three." Doc snapped, though his voice lacked any real venom.

A pair of large hands wrapped around Doc, pulling him back into Hank and holding him against him firmly. "Not going to happen... We can handle ourselves. Besides, it'll take you even longer to get back to it if you collapse and hurt yourself from exhaustion. You'll be bed ridden and sick and stress us all out." Hank said from behind Doc, giving him a firm squeeze to drive his point in.

"Exactly!" Deimos exclaimed, fixing Doc with a look that he normally wouldn't even dare to use on him. "You end up fucking yourself over with how much you overwhelm yourself all the time, you're going to end up on the receiving end of all that medical shit you do." Deimos snapped back, although he looked angry the underlying tone of pure worry was painfully obvious.

"And we all know you wouldn't want any of us to be the ones preforming any medical procedures." Sanford added.

Meanwhile, Doc was at a loss for words. They were worried... Of course they were, they were his family but he thought he hid it so well... But he was also in no position to be fighting them, especially when everything they said was true. Another hard squeeze from Hank pressed his head against his chest, a vibrating sensation enveloping him as Hank began purring away.

"Please, just take at least a week off. I don't like watching you run yourself into the ground like this." Deimos said, his tone softening like he would cry at any second and to Doc it felt like a punch in the gut.

Doc's throat tightened, swallowing thickly he looked at all of them as they waited patiently for him to say anything at all... He had to admit, he always struggled with admitting he was wrong, but for once, he had no ground to hold.

"Fine... Alright. A week off. Maybe it will do me some good." He sighed, relaxing back fully into Hank's embrace who only purred louder in response, Deimos grinning in unison with Sanford as they looked at him with all the affection in the world.

"Thank fuck." Deimos sighed, leaning into the embrace Hank had on Doc and doing his best to hug Doc despite the awkward angle.

"Agreed. I thought we were going to have to tie you down." Sanford replied, doing his best to hug Doc as well. 

"I think we'd leave that up to Hank." Deimos replied.

"Hey!" Doc kicked Deimos in the leg, making him cackle like a raging hyena, but god it it didn't make Doc smile.

"Alright, alright! Sorry!" Deimos laughed out.

After their laughing fit, Hank started to lean back, taking Doc with him making them look up at the black and red sky, the occasional glint of whatever stars were left visible in it's sky. For once, Doc felt fully relaxed and his exhaustion finally caught up with him, the vibrating from Hank and the other 2 pressed against them both finally letting him drift off to sleep easily.

Chapter Text

"Ufh!! The!- Urmmngh!!!! The audacity of that imbecile!" Crackpot mumbled angrily as it stomped into Phobos' office, fuming under the protective headgear it wore. Dr. Christoff, the insolent fool, had punched it! Sure, it was hilarious to hear him get fired but not when it came back to bite it in the ass! Unbelievable!

The Tower Guards standing on the platform straightened their postures as he approached, staring down at him and weapons held with an iron grip. "You approach the command post of his most godly emperor, Director Phobos!" They stated in unison, which only made Crackpot snort. He only briefly wondered if Phobos ever tired of hearing that phrase every minute of the day before walking up the slope that lead to his post, looking up at the towering director with a hidden grin.

"Crackpot. What do you require?" Phobos asked, a thin lace of venom coated his tone but he knew it wasn't directed at him, thankfully.

"Crackpot?" 

But that question most certainly was directed at him! 

Crackpot stared up at Phobos, gritting his teeth behind the protective helmet he wore... Why did he actually come up here again? 

Oh, right!

"Hehehe... Uh. Heh.. I heard about what happened with Jebediah. Can't blame me for coming to check on my emperor when he snaps in such... violent ways." Crackpot said, swaying in his spot nervously as Phobos looked at him over his shoulder. Dear heavens his gaze alone could send him to Purgatory.

Phobos hummed, shifting to turn and look at Crackpot fully. "Did Christoff do something I am not aware of?" He asked. "I would not put it past him to damage the tower and equipment." 

"No, no, no! I would have been in much more of a hurry if something was damaged. He hit me, is all." Crackpot said, shaking its hands, tilting its head to represent its grin.

Phobos didn't relax at its words, jaw clenched and shoulders still tensed. "Ah..."

Crackpot's eyebrows furrowed in concern, scratching at the chin of its protective gear. "Director Phobos." Crackpot planted its hands on his desk to lift itself slightly. 

Phobos turned to look at him again, eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. "What is it?" 

Crackpot took a deep breath... And walked away, for once leaving even Phobos confused as he marched his short ass right between the tower guards and out the door. The guards by the door looked just as confused, looking at Phobos for his command to stop the mad scientist, straightening their postures when Phobos only blinked, rolling his eye in annoyance at Crackpot's common antics. 

It was long after hours, Phobos sat at his computer typing away with a half lidded eye as he tiredly responded to the onslaught of emails he received throughout the day. The only thing to drag him out of his repetitive movements was the loud sound of a door activating.

"Director Phobos, good evening!" Crackpot chirped, stepping in and craning its neck to look up at Phobos who rolled his chair to the edge to look down at Crackpot. 

"Crackpot. What is it you need?" Phobos asked, turning away again to finish his email.

"I apologize for bringing him up again, but after Jeb hurting us both I figured I'd get something!" Crackpot replied, walking up the ramp to his post, a white box in hand.

Phobos immediately eyed him suspiciously, turning his chair to face it fully. "And what would that be?" He asked, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at it suspiciously.

"Director Phobos, I would never betray you, don't look at me with such distrust." Crackpot said as he pulled off the protective headgear he wore, flashing Phobos a sharp toothed grin and shaking his frizzy hair out of his eyes. He never realized that one of Crackpots pupils looked like it was melting... "Ease up! I brought this box for a reason." 

Phobos straightened his posture to look at the box as he sat the box down, reaching forward and opening the box, revealing a dozen messily placed donuts. Mostly chalking it up to the headgear obstructing Crackpot's view and his tripping. "What's this for?" Phobos asked, looking at Crackpot for an answer only to have a pink frosted donut shoved in his face instead. 

"Donuts!" Crackpot answered, though not the answer Phobos was looking for he couldn't deny the truth; he was currently choking on a donut. "Jeb was a real pain to the both of us so I think we could use this." 

Phobos cleared his throat, biting off a small piece of what was shoved in his mouth and glaring at Crackpot only momentarily before he sighed. "Yes, I won't deny that." 

Crackpot grinned, its yellowed teeth glinting in the red, ominous light that lit up Nevada. "Good? It took me hours to walk to that donut place. It's quite far." Crackpot asked.

"Yes... They are good." Phobos replied. "You do have a car, don't you...?" Phobos asked.

"..... Yes." Crackpot replied, looking down at its feet and its scratched up sneakers just solidifying the unnecessary long walk. "I had realized that I left it an hour into my walk." 

"You realized you left it?" Phobos echoed, bewildered.

"Indeed."

"Crackpot..." Phobos truly was at a loss for words. He was starting to doubt trusting Crackpot with such heavy machinery was a good idea. 

As if reading his thoughts, Crackpot narrowed his eyes. "Don't mistake me for an idiot, Director. I am a person of focus and determination. I wanted to go get these donuts so I did so immediately. I'm not spending my time in a parking garage when I can leave quicker on foot." 

Phobos could believe that fully, considering how it was quite an enigma usually but still managed to boost itself up to a head scientist and an idiot wouldn't end up in that position. "Right." He finally replied.

A silence finally fell over them other than the occasional noise as Crackpot had a habit of chewing with his mouth open. Phobos almost forgot how being in someone's presence could be quite comforting, having not experienced such a casual interaction with his scientists like this before. It was such a foreign feeling yet at the same time a sense of familiarity washed over Phobos... Just like he used to with his own family. Phobos swore he'd take it to the grave than admit that he wished Crackpot would stop by more often. Eating donuts and ignoring his work went against everything the Auditor had taught him but did it feel amazing to do and disobey his orders for once.

"You should walk to the donut shop." Crackpot spoke suddenly, making Phobos jolt.

"Why walk?" Phobos questioned. "It seems quite far." 

"I think you would enjoy it. Observing people as you walk is interesting." Crackpot said. "You also see a lot of new things... The donut shop has a donut the size of a small chicken on display." 

Phobos slowly nodded in response. "... Maybe we should." 

"Yeah, we should!" Crackpot agreed without hesitation... Though they both felt an unfamiliar jitter of happiness. They needed to see each other more often.