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Becoming hostile during their obligatory medical visits had apparently become Hank's new form of enrichment. Popping their stitches and blacking out on 2BDamned's exam table hadn't put the stop to it that the medic had wished for, nor had being less than politely informed that he wore his facial covering to help him breathe the horrific Nevadean air without hacking up a lung. Whatever made them so determined to see what lay underneath left him confused at best.
They'd long since stopped removing their mask when he prompted. He'd gotten used to doing it himself, learned little ways to keep their outbursts minimal (they took to it more easily when he let the fabric hang around their neck rather than being fully removed and set aside, if their condition allowed.) The glares and growls don't go away, nor do the attempts at evasion.
There are a lot of things that 2BDamned can grow used to. Recurring threats, staring and hissing and pushing and shoving. He draws the line at harm done to his person, and when Hank snaps their teeth at him during a particularly hard day, nicking his skin on their incisors, he's reached his limit.
For what it's worth, they do look surprised when 2BDamned hisses in pain and retracts his hand, as if it were meant to be an empty threat without consequence. "Alright, fine, fuck it! Just what has gotten into you?" he snaps in a desperate tone that makes them sharply turn their head away and make to get up and leave. 2BDamned leans to block their path, grabbing their shoulders without care from the blood droplets pooling over his knuckles. "It is a routine check-up, for Christ sakes! You get them more than anybody, what is your damage already?"
"Deimos!" Hank barks back, aggressively venomous.
That makes 2BDamned falter. His expression droops, brow furrowing. Deimos did something to piss them off, and they chose to take it out on him and his mask in particular? That makes absolutely no sense, but then again.. it was Hank. "Wh— Deimos? Are you serious?"
Hank shakes their head in disbelief, hardly able to fathom how 2BDamned couldn't find the problem. They gesture to his mask, "He touched you, he looked at you."
2BDamned blinks. Sure, the situation Deimos had brought upon him was complete and utter bullshit, but it taught Deimos a lesson. It was almost worth it for what Deimos got out of it, water under the bridge to both of them, and had nothing at all to do with Hank. One of his hands come to rest over the tattered fabric on his face. "And, just.. why, pray tell, does that matter to you?"
"Fuck this," they start to push off the table with their hands and move their body forward. 2BDamned braces his arm in front of their chest and shoves them back. "Don't touch my fucking mask ever again." Hank meets 2BDamned's energy and pushes harder, standing even if they're pinned tight between 2BDamned and the edge of the table.
"Wimbleton." he says it firmly, unfaltering, disallowing their desire to run away from the situation they caused. There's a pause to calculate what he can say that won't push them further over the brink. "I am.. trying to hear you out here. Do you understand that?"
They growl at him. Wide frenzied eyes stare him down, even now picturing just what features could be beneath fabric scraps and air filters. He has their interest, but their patience is tightly thin. "Then what more do you want from me."
'We can start with actual answers to my questions. I can't just magically read your mind, you know, I'm smart but I'm not a fucking miracle worker."
"Fine." Hank finally relents, submitting. "Fine, Doc. Sure." they cross their arms and relax their posture. 2BDamned will be grateful for that if nothing else.
"I'm not seeing the correlation here, you're, what.. pissed off because Deimos saw my face? And you're taking it out on me," he holds up his bloodied hand for emphasis, "For what? What the hell does that have to do with you, or me for that matter?"
"Because you chose him!" Hank's volume along with their nerves skyrocket back up. Apparently 2BDamned had made the wrong choice of words. "You get to look at me every other goddamn day and you keep everything away from me! Just say you don't fucking trust me, come on, say it, say it!"
Jebus from hell, this is getting ridiculous. 2BDamned stiffens, eyes scanning over them— their eyes wild, teeth bared with a tight jaw, breath fast and ragged. Some kind of twisted jealousy, a desire to be placed first.. there truly was more wrong with them than he could ever hope to fix.
2BDamned releases a deep breath. "I don't exactly break my jaw or pop my neck open every other day, so it's not.." his tone softens. "Not.. inherently necessary." Hank drawns in air like they're going to try to speak again, but 2BDamned continues. "And I didn't intend for Deimos to see it, either.. I didn't even want him to. It was an accident."
Hank silently tilts their head. Their frame loses tension as they put the pieces together. There's still a shred of distress, evident in the way their eyes narrow into a glare, but 2BDamned is fairly certain that's at the concept of what Deimos could have pulled to get that glimpse.
"Stop looking at me like I killed your mother." 2BDamned releases them, dropping his arm. "Look.. I don't take this thing off because I need it to breathe." among other things, of course, but they don’t need to know that. "It's not like I go around showing off my face, I'm not picking some.. special chosen one to view that shit. It doesn't matter, Hank. It just doesn't."
The tone of voice he addresses them with is so interesting. They've never heard him so gentle, and they hold a fondness for how even his gentleness has his unique bite laced within. 2BDamned is special, they're sure his face is too. Perhaps it being so hidden away makes it even moreso, but not in the way they'd thought.
They nod at him, using his leniency to make their swift escape from his office. 2BDamned allows it, well aware by now that a mere nod shows they are in understanding. They are, as they weave out of the room, completely comprehending what they'd been told. His face had never been shown willingly, it was all a misunderstanding.
That meant there was a first place spot open and waiting for them, and they'd slaughter anyone who reached for it.