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Doc jolted his eyes open. The light beamed at his pupils, which he covered quickly with his hands. There was light?
He hovered his hands back down, then opened his eyes again. The sky was no longer red, nor was he looking at the sky. The smell of air had the scent of medicine, heated plastic, and newly printed papers. This is not the afterlife he was once in.
Doc begins to notice more of his surroundings since his body wasn’t even on the ground anymore. He was placed in soft cushions and was wrapped around in a blanket. He felt his face and his mask was not in his face. He could feel the scars and injuries that were in his jaw. His chest could be felt rising up and down once again. And his ears could hear the sounds of beeping and breathing noises.
He looked to his right, which revealed a familiar agent who stared at him. Their hands were shaking along with their whole body. Doc mentally slapped himself for not knowing sooner. The agent was no other than Hank. The killer himself.
“I did it.” They spoke. Hank got out of his chair and walked in front of Doc. “You’re back.” He spoke again.
“Hank, what happened?” He asked. Hank sat back down near Doc’s foot side of the bed.
“Well... you died after fighting off a group of agents. We were done until one of the agents was still alive. They shot you before I killed them.” Doc sat, trying to remember anything from the occurring event.
“How did you revive me?”
“The same way you did to me and other agents. I was able to pick up from you and I took whatever information I had to get you back here.” Ah, that was smart of him.
He didn’t know much about his revival. He got hit by a device, fell down a hole, and boom. In a room with Hank. Now to think of it, it’s been long seeing an alive person in the real world. He's been punished from the afterlife for too long to even keep track of time. He only hoped to live for another day and get on with it.
“How long has it been for me in the afterlife?”
“You’ve been there in an estimate of a week.” Doc had nothing to say. Fuck, for his whole life he’s been proving himself to not been seen as a lesser person. But even so, he’s surprised at how he didn’t just die.
“Fuck.” Is all he has to say. Doc stared at his surroundings, still processing where he is now. Hank could only stare back at Doc who was alive in front of him.
“What was the Purgatory like?” He questioned.
Shit. The Purgatory. Doc’s jaw let out a stinging feeling; He touched his jaw and sighed in relief. He was glad the purgatory spared him to continue opening and closing his mouth.
“I’ve witnessed so much yet only remember a few. It felt like a long nap but at the same time, it wasn’t as peaceful as I thought.” He explained. It was indeed a large nap, if he forgot about it.
“Was there more to it?” Hank continued asking. Doc’s mind tried to replay any more events. It literally glitched through his mind and shook his head.
“Memories. Not only mine but yours and others played around and replicated it to life. Only to kill me.” And the memories played again.
The time some agents had raided Hank’s- well, Doc’s house. Instead of being inside the house, he was outside with agents killing him. He was then killed by the soldat he once tricked and killed with his gun.
He was then in Deimos’ point of view of getting revived. Then the MAG agents that came out of it also. He was immediately shot by one of them.
“How do you feel now?” Doc blinked and realized he was here now. And the person in front of him was someone he’s comfortable with.
“Never better.” Doc replied with a half lie, then they were both silent again. His chest had a sudden weight, which when he looked down it was Hank’s hand. He wondered why the man had the sudden urge of affection, but he remembered.
Back when he revives Hank many times, he’ll put his hand on their chest to check their heart beat. He could record how at times Hank’s heart would beat slowly, or never beat at all. They were truly a phenomenon.
Doc placed his hand over Hank’s. “Oi, I’m alive for sure. You can stop putting your hand on my chest.”
“Not yet.” Hank said. And Doc let him continue.
His heart beat is probably the only thing keeping Hank calm. He exhaled at the thought of his heart. It stopped beating when his heart was struck by a bullet.
The face he received from Hank when he died. It was their body that froze when they saw his body fall down.
The eyes that faded life away from the dissenter.
The legs that will no longer support him back up.
And the arms that rest from any harm.
His body was wrapped with Hank’s arms. They stayed like that until Doc lungs couldn’t take any more air. When Doc could no longer breathe, Hank’s stomach then grumbled from starvation.
Doc’s pretty sure that Hank knew he was in purgatory. But moreover worried at the loss of not having a person by your side. The feeling of never hearing a person’s distinct voice and personality. And the thought of the person being in a place that tortured the dead must’ve settled him off.
They must’ve missed him that bad.
Doc gripped Hank’s hand that was still in his beating chest. “I’ll promise to be careful next time.” He said.
Hank grunted. “It was the agent’s fault. You were as careful as you can be.” They reassured. Doc hummed and both went back to silence.
Doc was then wrapped around in Hank’s arms, just like the last time before he died. This time, there was nothing to worry about. It was just the two of them who wanted nothing else but to be with each other.