Chapter Text
A clock tick tick ticks away while Deimos and Sanford play cards in the kitchen. It was a rare day off for the boys, each sporting massive amounts of stitches. Deimos had never played cards with someone who’s such a stickler for the rules. Sanford called him out on cheating twice in 15 minutes. It’s not his fault no one at the AAHW played cards with the right rules, how was he supposed to know this card didn’t go on that!
Sanford lets a cheeky grin grow on his face, “I win!”
“This game sucks ass!” Deimos threw his cards at the table and let them disorganize the setup. Sanford laughed at him and set his cards down.
He laughed hard enough that Deimos couldn’t help but laugh with him. He gets this funny feeling in his chest whenever Sanford laughs, probably the cigarettes he’s been smoking. Sanford sighs as he gathers up the cards to shuffle them once again. He looks sad for some reason, weren’t they just laughing?
“What’s up, buddy?” Deimos cocks his head while he asks, the good doctor — debatable — compares him to a dog when he does that.
Sanford keeps his eyes on the cards, “You ever miss how things were?”
“What, me being the enemy to shoot at?” He tries joking, but Sanford only shoots him a deadpanned stare.
“No, I am talking about the sun, the blue sky. Y’know, how things were before Hank lost his marbles, assuming he ever had any.”
Deimos drops his smile and scratches his chin, “Can’t say I miss something I never got to experience.”
Sanford stops shuffling and starts dealing for the two of them, “Right, sorry for bringing it up…”
Deimos looks over his cards and waves his hand, “Don’t be sorry, describe it to me. What was the sun like?”
Sanford remembers the warmth of it like it was yesterday and lets out a small smile, “I remember it being warm. I don’t mean hot like how it is now, but there was something to laying down outside under the sun for a while. When I was a kid, my school friends and I would lay on a picnic blanket to watch the clouds go by, trying to name the shapes of ‘em…”
There was something to be said about the way Sanford tells stories. It’s like diving into a pool with how he draws you in. Deimos is having trouble listening and keeping track of the cards.
He continues, “The days my dad would leave work — out of state, he’d be gone for months on end — we’d all get up real early to watch the sunrise before he left. And… after he died, my mom and I would do that on his birthdays and death days. Up until… well… you know.”
Sanford plays two more cards and flips up a third before ending his turn as he finishes his story. Deimos tries to imagine Sanford’s family under the sun, which is kind of difficult since he’s never seen either of Sanford’s parents. In his mind, he pictures a mini Sanford — still wearing shades, of course — wrapped in a blanket next to two figures. The sky is harder to imagine, his brain substitutes the ombré with a light pink that dusts their mornings under a red and black sky.
I think I’d trade everything I own to experience that with you, ‘Ford, Deimos thinks.
“Are you ever gonna take your turn, Buddy?” Sanford chuckles with his brows furrowing.
Deimos is abruptly snapped out of his thoughts, “huh… what? Oh, yeah… just thinking of my next moves.”
“We’re playing Skippo, dude,” Sanford raises a brow as his grin comes back.
Deimos stretches an arm forward to place a few cards, “It’s just, growing up — if you can call it that — I had nothing like that. My earliest memories in the Agency are full of indoctrination and training. I never got to go outside and experience things the way you did. Remember that despite my rugged good-looks, I’m actually only 6 years old.”
“Well, you don’t look a day over two!”
Deimos smiles as he flips over a card and plays a different one, “That said, suppose it wasn’t all bad…”
Sanford leaned in slightly, as if to encourage Deimos to share more. The ex-Grunt hardly ever shared anything about his life in the AAHW.
I guess none of us share that much of our lives now do we? Sanford thinks. The most personal thing he's gotten out of the other two was the damn wedding. Sanford has worked with them the longest and didn’t even realize they were dating.
Deimos leans back in his chair, “I guess my brother was cool, G99t-r. You see, us clones don’t really consider ourselves to be brothers, but we did. He was kind, well kind as any of us could be within the Agency. G99t-r wanted to be born as a Soldat to take on Hank. I think I remember him being somewhat jealous that I was on track to be an Engineer before dissenting.”
Sanford set down his cards as his gazed softened towards his friend “What happened to him?”
“Death by friendly fire from a Jebus damned Soldat, probably rotting in some fuckass basement by now — assuming they haven’t used his body for… for… for whatever it is they do in those damn experiments. Oooh, if I ever get my hands on S74t-s the things I’m gonna do to him will make Hank look merciful.”
Deimos hands shook and his eyes got watery. But instead, he relaxed with one big exhale before looking back at his friend, “Wow that got heavy, my bad!”
Sanford shook his head as he started his turn, “Don’t be sorry” — he eyed him over his shades — “I like learning new things about you.”
Deimos did not blush, blushing is for dumb, stupid people… like him — who said that! Deimos clears his throat and re-sorts the cards in his hand. This mercenary is gonna be the death of him, unless Hank goes crazy — again — and gets to him first.
Another minute or so passes when Sanford cries out, “I win, again!”
“Motherfucker!”