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Nevada was no place for an ordinary, living being with a normal consciousness or mental stability; or any positive health for that matter. It was a place of bloodshed, of murder, of death, of madness. Anyone who stepped foot into that place knew it all too well that’s all it truly was; just eternal suffering. Either you died or you killed to live, well, more like surviving. Cannibalism and starvation was the norm, water and natural, healthy resources had become scarce, don’t you even dare think of making relationships because sooner or later you’d meet ends with fate, but unfortunately that was exactly what happened to Deimos. Deimos was no ordinary grunt, he’s a generation V2 clone that was made to take down the very monster that started this whole mess, that turned the living space of once colder deserts with beautiful blue skies into nothing but an actual graveyard wasteland. Sure, there were hardly any greens here before the whole place was driven into pure chaos, but now there’s no green scenery anywhere, absolutely nothing beautiful was spared after Hank J. Wimbleton did his first 30-32 kills at that park. Cruel, just.. Cruel. Of course, not being ordinary meant a lot for Deimos. He had the AAHW and Nexus branding codebars across the back of his neck, he hated any formal wear thanks to the trauma of both places, the way he acts, he’s a lot more skittish and uncaring than his counterpart; the whole jist, you get it.
Now, that repercussion came back to bite him. On his latest mission to revive the beast he was alive for, he had let his guard down for too long. Deimos basically chunked Hank into the MAG-ifying pod, whistling and talking to himself as he freely typed away at the computer device in front of him. Not for long, of course, until he was taken by surprise by a Engineer agent, the feeling of a few rounds of bullets piercing into his torso, the fear in his eyes as he slumped to the floor, the feeling of blood pouring out of his own body, seeping from all the wounds he had yet to process, it moved by too quickly. More bullets, more pain, he was starting to cry. The worst of it was remembering his partner was still out there, probably alive, and he would never be able to see him again.. Never being able to tell him everything, to kiss him again, to dance when it was too damn late, to be giddy every time he did something cute, the butterflies in his stomach he got whenever Sanford just did anything-; it was all over because of HIS stupid, dumb mistake of not watching out for his own back. Before he knew it, everything went cold and dark, his vision faded fast as he faintly heard the agent walk out after reloading his gun, and the very soft sound of the pod opening with Hank probably stepping out of it. The next thing Deimos knew was that he was in his own purgatory.
It was the worst kind of pain Deimos has ever felt before, a different kind of pain than out in the overworld (as he called it), Deimos always listed Nevada as “living hell” before; but this? This was different. This was, in fact, his own hell. Just for him, how sweet. If he could even say that, of course. When he got there, he wasn’t too surprised about a personal hell, just for him. Although the pain, oh the pain, it was so much worse than just a simple thing he could walk off. The things he endured, oh the stuff he saw, being dragged across the ground by chains forcibly tearing into him, the feeling of being stabbed, shot at, falling from the sky at 500+ feet in the air just to feel the force of the ground around him, it was just nothing but pure torture, fitting for someone like him, he guessed. Deimos just wished he could sit down for a while, let himself cry everything out, but he can’t. He has to keep going, he has to keep going for Sanford’s sake. If he had one reason to keep going, it was for his boyfriend. He wanted- no, he NEEDED to see Sanford again, he needed to get out of here and tell him that everything was going to be okay, that he was there for him, that he wouldn’t die again. Deimos needed to leave, to be back in Sanford’s arms. Everything would be okay soon, he would endure all of this all over again if it was for his significant other.
Deimos had lost his entire lower jaw at this point, ripped off from the agony he’s endured over the previous however long it’s been, great, just what he wanted. It hurt, it all hurt so damn bad. It hurt more than anything else ever would, he wanted to just give up but he can’t, he couldn’t. Sanford was still out there, HIS Sanford was still out there, that’s what drove Deimos from giving up entirely, Doc would save him and Sanford would hold him to tell him it’s alright. He can almost just imagine it now, the bigger, buffer, and dangerous man of Nevada rocking him and speaking to him gently like he was a baby. Only Deimos could make a man like him soft enough to do that, only him. Deimos wanted to smile and laugh at the thought, it felt so unreal now, but soon he’d feel that loving warmth again, ouch, a gunshot wound. Sanford, giving him kisses against his scraped, jawless face. God, the chains, oh how they make him hurt like a little kid. It was his own thoughts and the reality around him that made Deimos snap back into focusing on getting out of here to feel those concepts, to make his far away dreams his once more real world. To feel everything again.
Going from room to room, dodging and avoiding whatever enemies and dangers approached his being and adrenaline at an all time high sunken into his veins, it was honestly pretty intense, and not in a good way. He was already over it, tired and barely having the energy to keep going, he just wanted this to end. It was sickening, it was painful, nothing like he’s ever experienced, as stated by himself previously. Still, it was almost like he was lucid dreaming, in a sense. Everything felt so unreal, so personal, that it was almost like a dream, even though it clearly wasn’t. So disgusting and so personal to himself that he was starting to wonder if it was even worth continuing going through all of the pain like he has been, but to finally escape and be free, sure, it was 100% worth it. Never again would he tell Doc off for something that was Deimos’ own fault, never again would he pick on Hank for something so small, never again would he be the slightest amount of mean to Victor, and he would always be there for Sanford like he was supposed to, like he promised his sweet man he would, he still can’t believe that he was so stupid to not watch out for his own back, was Sanford mad at him? No, no.. Definitely sad, but hopefully not mad.. Deimos wouldn’t be able to bear Sanford being mad at him, but of course it was justifiable. Deimos died on the job because he was being careless, he wasn’t watching his own back, it was just plain stupid, a rookie mistake he learned all the way back in his AAHW days, downright mockery it was.. If only he could undo everything to be back in the base, in his own bed, cracking up knock knock jokes and watching shitty pirated movies on his old laptop, but that wouldn’t be anytime soon thanks to him and his own actions.
Fumbling into another room, the same grey walls that painted the bane of his own existence, and of course not before shooting up an agent and hitting him over the head with the uzi in his hands, Deimos came across a little window slit in the wall. As curious as he was despite everything, he of course looked through the window. I mean, what would be the worst to come out of this? .. Everything, apparently. Deimos watched the room carefully, before watching someone walk out of the nearby door, someone he knew all too well, someone he knew with love and all care, someone too good he didn’t know if it was real, it was Sanford, he had walked to the back of the room to pull a lever on the nearby power generator. Oh my god, his beloved right there. Deimos had so many questions; was this purgatory playing tricks on him? Was this really his Sanford? If so, why is he HERE? Did he die?? Oh, his Sanford. His love, he needed to comfort him, to cry out to him, his love.. His sweet honey.. Oh his beloved, hell, Deimos’ entire fucking world, what happened.. Why was he here?! Deimos could feel his eyes start to water, his mind wondering what happened, and how he’s now here. The whole reason he was pushing on to get out of here, now Sanford was also here, and dead. Deimos tried to call out to him through the waterworks flowing down his face, trying to blink them away as much as it didn’t work. His hand lifted up into the air to get Sanford’s attention, which didn’t work much to his dismay. Deimos turned around, thinking, before watching the worst scene play out in front of his eyes. A Soldat agent, walking out from the door, shooting Sanford from behind, which pretty much tore Sanford in half.. An ironic scene, wasn’t it? Deimos wanted to scream, to cry, to yell and fuck up the agent for doing that to him.
The best he could do was shoot at the agent, before trying to figure out how to get to his better half. The window wall slit was way too small to fit into, so he slams himself against the nearby door, begrudgingly it doesn’t even open, unfortunately and ultimately before being dragged into the wall and up through the floor by a pair of chains that bound this entire damn place together for his own torment and entertainment, ow, a painful hissing sound coming from Deimos’ person, the pain. The agony.. Sanford plagued his thoughts, oh god. Deimos quickly jumped up and dashed into the nearby door, shooting up a regular 1337 agent and another Soldat before progressing through the very room he witnessed it all. Sanford was gone, so was the corpse of the Soldat that killed him. What.. How?! He had just witnessed his love standing in front of him, and just like that he was gone again. Deimos wanted to give up at this point, but he’d find Sanford, no matter what, and they’d- they’d get out of here. Deimos would protect him, he’d know what to do, even if it hurt, he’d do everything to protect his Sanford, he didn’t care. As if his name being mentioned pretty much summoned him, Sanford stepped back out of the door, Deimos turned around and wanted to gasp, wanting to tell him everything, his fingers locking onto the top half of his jaw.. Hell, it was missing so of course no words would be able to flood out of his chopped mouth, he wouldn’t be able to tell Sanford everything he wanted to tell him, he could almost feel the atmosphere change as the Soldat stepped into the room. Deimos felt like he was seething, before the agent could react Deimos shot up.. Well, his entire being. Leaving him a mangled corpse of what he once was. That actually felt great, now knowing Sanford was absolutely, 100%, protected by him. As Deimos looks around, Sanford does as well.
Deimos goes to approach his beloved, he’s just right there, right in his reach, so excited to be back in his arms again, to be cradled with the most amount of care there ever was, he’s been through so much pain, it would be amazing if he could rest, just for a second, for Sanford to tell him that he loves Deimos, and Deimos would tell him he loves him too, more than Sanford would ever be able to know. Deimos could finally feel the tears building back up in his eyes. He couldn’t bear to think about why Sanford was here in the first place as he did earlier, but he was. This was both a curse and a blessing, mental agony and finally a place to rest. Deimos began to re-approach Sanford, taking a few deep, yet shallow breaths in order to prepare whatever questions were thrown at him and thinking how Sanford would react to him being right there. Instead, though, he was met with the entire top half of his beloved’s face gone. Deimos’ eyes widened as he stepped back, and Sanford advanced towards him. Deimos couldn’t tell if he was about to attack him or not, even if so he couldn’t ever dare to shoot him. He put a hand in front of his face, backing up and immediately falling to the floor, bracing whatever came his way and whatever pain this damned place would put upon him further. Whatever was capable of slipping through Deimos’ thoughts at this moment was a mix of apologies and trying to differ that this wasn’t even his Sanford. Tears flogged his eyes, not prepared no matter how much he wanted to be, but instead he was met with arms around his waist. What? Deimos finally opened his eyes, being forced to look at this abomination of his lover face to face.. As best as he could think that. “Sanford” wasn’t attacking him as he thought he would be.. Instead, he was met with the care of Sanford’s muscular, yet comfortable arms. His whole figure and demeanor of his lover, except for the whole missing his whole upper part of his face thing. Deimos immediately crumbles, not ever going on to question if this was his Sanford any longer, even if it wasn’t, Deimos figures he's been through way too much pain to not let himself receive some amount of physical comfort. Sanford wipes away Deimos’ tears with his own thumb, as his Sanford would, and brought him even closer to himself in their sweet, loving embrace; it almost made Deimos sick in a sweet, positive way. He wanted to tell Sanford, even if it’s not his, all of the grievances and acknowledgements he ever could, all of this was entirely his fault, of course Deimos would blame himself for everything.
Sanford didn’t even bring any of it up, if he could speak of it, no words were needed for them to sit there and be with each other for a while, it was just them. Sanford gently caresses Deimos’ face, gently resting what was left of his forehead against Deimos’, cradling him with no care in the world as if he was just a fragile doll. Of course, Deimos doesn’t even mind this, he needed this, actually. Deimos does his best to smile up at him, as comfortable as he could be in Sanford’s comforting arms. It was so nice, of course it was; who wouldn’t be relieved and enjoy being comforted after going through what he just did? God, yes, it was so nice. Deimos lets his tears run dry, still a bit paranoid and yet not keeping his guard down, cuddling further into Sanford. It was gonna be okay, this was exactly what Deimos wanted, goddammit. Everything that led up to this moment was entirely worth it to be with Sanford, even if it wasn’t his Sanford, for now this would do. It would all be okay, it would be as long as he was here, in his arms, in his comfort.
Deimos lets out a noise “Sanford” could only describe as a scoff, though not at him, but more so a tired one that signals he doesn’t want to go on anymore. This wasn’t the Deimos he recognized, but damn hell if they had each other it would be okay because it was still him, and Sanford sure as hell would protect him no matter what now that he was right here, Their foreheads pressed together, them entangled in a loving embrace, him removing Deimos’ tears as they flooded down his figure, it was nothing but pure love even if it wasn’t their own partners they remembered. Deimos lets himself be comforted despite knowing it wasn’t his Sanford, because he needed this comfort more than anything. Deimos looks up at him once more, nudging himself against the other’s lower jaw; funny. It was like they were missing the opposite features, almost like a jigsaw puzzle piece, the two final pieces in a long day of hardwork and handicraft, that’s how Deimos reviewed their relationship anyways. They were a beautiful puzzle, heh. How funny that thought is despite how true it is. No matter how much you broke it apart, it would always be fixed and put back together at some point, that’s how Deimos views them. Despite how flawed he is, Sanford loves him all the same. Sanford was the first person to see Deimos as a regular, living being. Not a clone, not a murder machine, not soulless, not heartless, but he saw Deimos. Honestly, that’s probably how he fell in love with him originally, Sanford was everything to him that nobody else was, and god did he appreciate it so damn much. He loves Sanford, and Sanford loves him just as much. Nothing would wager them; nothing. Sanford seems to realize this as well, nudging Deimos as if trying to tell him something. Deimos lets out a small noise, almost like a hum of acknowledgement, and Sanford moves closer to him, caressing his face. It clicks in Deimos’ head, maybe they’re telepathic in a way, but thinks about what Sanford is offering him. With no words spoken, Deimos understood that Sanford wanted them to fit together like the way he was thinking a bit earlier, ironically enough.
Even if it was just for a short bit, it almost seemed like that’s what Sanford was saying to him, even if it’s for a bit, you and I can rest before we both have to part. Maybe we won’t, maybe that’ll be okay if we don’t. Deimos cocks his head at Sanford like a small, curious puppy. Maybe it was a good idea, maybe it would be painful, maybe he’d never be able to leave this godforsaken hellhole, but he didn’t care. If it’s what Sanford wanted, then hell Deimos might as well agree for him. It would be comforting, he’d finally be able to shut his eyes for a while, it would be dark; but a Sanford would be right there for his comfort. Deimos gently rested his hand on the other’s shoulder, contemplating on doing this. A disgusting freak of pure nature, him and Sanford always joked about it. Sewing each other together or figuring out a way to connect themselves so they’re always together, not being able to leave, a disgusting yet beautiful monstrosity of obsession and love for the other living being both of them adored so much. Not being able to tell where one started and where one ended, it would be them. Just them, so lovingly together in each other's arms and figure of body, of course this was always played off as a joke, but now being able to do it, just for a little bit, was honestly a bit funny to Deimos. Sucking in a breath, he nods, and lets Sanford move his face closer to Deimos’.
Soon, Deimos was lost in the feeling of pain, almost thinking of this like a really unintentionally, hurtful kiss. It was dark, but comforting despite how awful it felt. He could only wonder how they looked from an outside perspective, maybe there’d be a way to stitch them together like this for eternity, well, with his Sanford at least. Excruciating, but in such a reassuring way it felt so right. He was going to be fine for now, right here no matter how much he thought about all of the previously thought about negative stuff. Deimos would be fine, they would be. He huffs a bit, Sanford flinches, but quickly recovers and embraces Deimos a bit tighter, clearly this wouldn’t stay forever, but for now, this would do. This would be fine, Deimos can finally let himself rest for a while, not having to think about anything in this hellish place for maybe an hour or two, give or take honestly. Another comforting hug from Sanford, Deimos lets himself fully relax in the other’s arms, letting himself be caressed in a loving, yet painful way. They’re joint in a way Deimos could only really joke about, through physical and mental connections, and it would stay that way for as long as he survived and died for, forever for Sanford, always for Sanford, and Deimos wouldn’t have it any other way for his sweet, dear beloved Sanford.