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Deimos had been acting off. All of yesterday and the current day, he seemed like he had lower energy than usual. Sanford had just assumed that it was a lack of sleep, or perhaps not feeling well mentally--he had held Deimos close and told him that he'd be there for him, but he had insisted that Sanford shouldn't worry, that he was just sleepy.
But after a battle, he seemed worse. Leaning against Sanford for support, breathing heavily. Things that immediately sent off around five hundred different alarm bells in Sanford's mind at once.
"O-Oi...San? Is it okay if I stay here for a sec? We've got nothin' to do, and I'm feelin' kinda dizzy..." Deimos spoke quietly, head against Sanford's chest, the taller of the pair responding by wrapping his arms around him.
"Of course, darlin', but...Are you okay? Were you hurt? Here, let me examine you real quick, hon..." Without any hesitation, Sanford looked up and down Deimos' entire body for any possible wounds, only seeing minor scratches--the only blood on his body being that of their enemies. Sanford was glad he wasn't hurt, but this was actually more concerning.
"Hey, Doc!" Sanford shouted, beckoning the doctor over from across the battlefield, "Mind checkin' on Dei, please? It's urgent, he ain't feeling well." Even as 2BDamned approached, he held Deimos in his arms, protectively.
"What's wrong with him, Sanford?" 2B asked, stepping closer to the pair. Deimos weakly acknowledged 2B's presence with a quiet, strained "what's up, Doc?", which earned a soft chuckle and a sigh from the doctor.
"He's obviously weak, but not too weak to make his jokes." 2B thought, before turning his attention back to Sanfords words.
"I dunno, he just said he got dizzy and he's been off since yesterday...Do you think he's sick?"
2B placed a hand on Deimos' forehead, surprisingly gently, and immediately felt the heat and noticed the red flush on his cheeks. He then sighed yet again, tapping his fingers against his legs.
"A high fever. Not too high, from what I can tell, but high enough to wipe him out for a bit."
"Shit...Oi, Dei, have you gotten sick like this before?..." Sanford asked, beginning to stroke Deimos' hair gently.
"N-Nah...Hasn't ever been this bad. All dizzy, feels like I haven't slept in a week... S-Sorry, but I think I'm gonna be outta commission for a bit, guys... I 'unno where it came from, just...u-ugh..." Deimos leaned more against Sanford's broad chest, being held tighter in response.
"Hank is already back at the car, so we should get back. We have all the intel we need," 2B paused for a moment to reassuringly place his hand over Deimos', "and you obviously need some rest, Deimos. No worries." Deimos smiled slightly.
After the trio had returned to their newest getaway vehicle, Hank waiting for them, Sanford sat in the back with Deimos by his side--Deimos immediately deciding to use his shoulder as a pillow, attempting to get a bit of rest. When he had almost dozed off, a gruff voice from the drivers seat caught his attention.
"...Deimos." Hank had said, breaking through the silence.
"Doc told me what happened...Don't push yourself. If you need anything once we get back, tell me."
"H-huh?...Uh...T-thanks, Hank," Deimos mumbled, "Appreciate it a lot. Just...just gonna take a nap now. San can bridal carry me back to our room or some shit, I 'unno..." Hank simply nodded in response to what Deimos said, letting him rest for the long ride home.
Deimos had slowly woken up once the car parked in front of their hideout, feeling the warmth of someone's strong arms around him, carrying him. Looking up with glassy eyes, he realized Sanford had taken the bridal carry comment a bit too seriously.
"U-uh...San? You...uh, you didn't have to do that, y'know...I'm good..."
"Dei, darlin', I've carried you like this a fuck ton of times, when you get hurt. Let me take care of you."
"...Y-yeah, that's true. This is nice, though...gonna nap again for a sec." Deimos hadn't realized how badly the lack of sleep and fever had fucked him up, until he was fast asleep again in a few minutes in his arms.
As he slept, a very odd dream had come to him.
Sanford had placed Deimos in their bed, 2B giving him a rag soaked in cool water--said cool water being an absolute bitch to find-- and placing it on his forehead, taking off his hat and headphones for the sake of space, brushing away his messy hair. Determined not to leave his side, Sanford sat on the bed next to him with a torn up, bloodstained old magazine to pass the time, one he had taken off a grunt he had taken down earlier.
Sanford had been taken out of the immersion of the comic by Deimos mumbling in his sleep, words nearly incomprehensible.
"..Nn...wha...the fuck.... a...a fuckin'...star? Th...this shit...shouldn't be...f-fuckin' allowed...huh..." His words then trailed off into nothing yet again, leading to Sanford chuckling softly and stroking his hair. Yet again, Deimos slowly opened his eyes, seeming more awake this time.
"Mornin', sleepyhead." Sanford said, chuckling again, "Heard ya talkin' in your sleep. Somethin' about a star? Sounds interestin'."
"...Nnn...G'mornin'...I 'unno if it's even morning...but...yeah, g'mornin'... Had...had a weird ass dream..."
"Hm? I'm listenin', sweetheart."
"It...it was like..." Deimos paused, thinking of how to word things, "you 'n I were beatin' the shit out of some agents, right?...Regular shit...Kickin' ass, but then...BAM!" Deimos sat up and raised his arms up for emphasis, the cool rag placed on his forehead falling off and onto his lap, "this fuckin'...star shaped hole popped up in the floor and we fell into it, and there were these grunts with weird ass faces, like," He made a face that caused Sanford to burst out laughing for a moment. "Like this! And they all looked exactly the same, shit was so weird... But the most strange part was that, like, they actually helped us n' shit. Like showing us where to go and refusing to attack us. Until they did. And this weird star fucker came out, it had the same face and it was like, 'They betrayed you!' so we were like 'Oh, shit!' and the grunts attacked us, but we beat the shit out of them, but then they got these creepy faces and killed us... And...yeah..." Deimos started speaking quieter, still very out of, "...Shit was crazy. It was so weird, but actually pretty scary....Maybe it's a sign or some shit, maybe we can tell Doc or Hank--"
Sanford placed a finger over Deimos' lips, hushing him gently.
"Shhh. You're overthinking it, dear. Just a fever dream and an overactive imagination."
"Yeah...Yeah, I do. Too active, prolly..."
The pair chatted for a while, Deimos resting in Sanford's lap and rambling feverishly about whatever came to mind, slowly feeling better bit by bit. Eventually, 2BDamned had knocked on the door, bringing in hotdogs he had gotten from outside during a small trip with Hank to make sure they had things to help Deimos feel better. Deimos' eyes lit up, his appetite quickly returning. After a little bit, after their lunch--or was it dinner? Deimos had lost track of time-- a comfortable silence had fallen over Sanford and Deimos, until Deimos grabbed Sanford's wrist to get his attention.
"Hey, San?..." Deimos said, softly.
"Yeah, darlin'?"
"...Thanks. For takin' care of me...D-don't mean to get all sappy, I just... I just appreciate you. A lot. And I love you so much." Deimos wrapped his arms around Sanford as he spoke, Sanford responding by kissing him on the head.
"I'll always take care of you, darlin'. And I know you'll take care of me, too. I'll always be with you, okay?"
"...Heh...H-hey, San? Be my husband once this stuff gets better, alright?"
"...Of course." Sanford said softly, "...You asked me that yesterday, though. And the day before."
"Cuz I love ya... Gotta say it enough that ya know..."
Sanford smiled and kissed Deimos quickly on the lips, "I know you love me. And I love you too, sweetheart."
The group suspended their activities until Deimos recovered, his fever slowly reducing over a few quiet days. He kept fidgeting with discomfort, wanting to do something, despite the protest of the other three.
"C'mon, I wanna fight shit already!" he pouted, flapping his hands slightly, almost pleading to the others.
"Not yet." Hank scolded, "You'll get hurt. Not until your fever's gone."
Deimos forced a frown and spoke. "Fine, Dad." he said, leading to an incredibly shocked expression from the mercenary in front of him and laughter of a volume he had never heard before from their doctor from the other side of the room.
Deimos felt as if the boredom would drive him insane.
But, after a bit, he went back to normal--his energy levels far too high yet again, and his fever vanishing. In his excitement, Deimos had gathered the group into their living room, a massive grin on his face.
"I'm ready to go wreck AAHW asses again!"
2B sighed, laughing softly, "I almost liked it when he wasn't trying to cause chaos every five seconds..."
"Don't lie, you missed me at my best! Now, let's fuckin' go, I'm ready!!" Deimos shouted.
Things returned to normal, as they drove to their next destination within Nevada.