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It was already a long day. Long nights bleeding into long days. Deimos barely slept that night and it was incredibly obvious with how slow his roll was. Even sweet nicotine wasn’t waking him up any. As he drowsily walked the halls of an agency base Deimos could’ve sworn he was basically sleep walking. He was barely processing things as it was, the sounds of gunfire sort of a distant lullaby. He only drew his gun when absolutely necessary (meaning there was active fire in his direction).
His beloved partner even picked up on his distance, Sanford giving him concerned looks as they went. As they got closer to the end of their mission he decided to finally ask Deimos what was going on and why he wasn’t his lively-run-into-danger-without-a-second-thought self.
“What’s going on Dei?” He pulled Deimos down an ‘empty’ (slathered with blood and corpses lying on the ground) hallway.
“‘M tired. Obviously.”
“Okay well yeah, I see that. But why are you so damn tired?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
Sanford gives him a knowing look. “I told you not to have that damn coffee.”
“It wasn’t the coffee!” Deimos insists.
“Right. That’s why I could hear you playing Mario kart all the way until 3 this morning.”
Deimos was kinda speechless at that. He frowns and furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah— well?! Whatever! I can do whatever I wanna do!”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t do whatever. I just wish you’d take better care of yourself than stay up all night!”
“Blah blah blah.” Deimos rolls his eyes and walks off. He tries to stubbornly pick up his speed, as if that would somehow prove he was wide awake (and rejuvenate his energy). And it didn’t.
Sanford just follows behind his boyfriend knowing damn well that if they were jumped trying to find the rest of the grunts, Deimos would not be awake enough to respond on time.
Deimos trudged on. Until he tripped on thin air. One second he was walking and the next he was on the floor. His face hurt, like actual hell.
He quickly got to his hands and knees, his mouth filling with a metallic taste. There were also certain somethings now resting on his tongue. The only thing going on in his head was ‘fuck fuck fuck’.
Deimos opened his mouth and spat out its contents into the palm of his hand. It consisted of a lot of blood and little white things. Parts of his teeth.
“Oh god oh no!” Deimos starts desperately licking around his mouth to assess the worst of the damage. While his teeth were still there, they were definitely chipped and opened up.
“Oh shit, Deimos!” Sanford was running over at this point trying to see what the hell was going on.
“My teefs are all fffucked up!” Deimos was now going into overdrive spitting out more blood and feeling his broken teeth.
“Fuck… fuck I don’t know what to do holy shit.” Sanford just helps Deimos to his feet, looking at the broken bits still clutched in Deimos’ hand. “Maybe Doc can do something about this…”
“What goof is that when he isn’t ffucking here!” Deimos now had a serious lisp going on that Sanford was barely able to take seriously.
“Let’s just finish this mission and—“
“To hell wif the mission!” Deimos was not having it.
This was not the wake up call he wanted nor needed.
Somewhat reluctantly Sanford agrees and helps his partner to their truck. Thoughts about Hank escaped both of them, forgetting the other mercenary even rode with them. They just went straight to base to get the bloody situation dealt with.
Doc wasn’t pleased to see the mess either (especially after learning they forgot Hank). It took awhile of Doc trying to figure out teeth stuff (Google is a mans best friend). Meanwhile Deimos just had to keep it cleaned up and ice on it while Sanford tried his best to comfort his boyfriend.
“You’re just going to have to see a dentist.” Doc conceded. “I can’t fix that.”
“But you’re doc!”
“I don’t get what that’s supposed to mean. I’m not even a doctor, much less in the oral health profession.”
Deimos finally agreed to go tomorrow, given pain killers to buy him time till the next day. Sanford was still trying to comfort his boyfriend and his broken teeth.
“How about a game of Mario kart…?”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“Oh I guess you’re just scared you’ll lose.” Sanford always knew what to say to rile him up.
Deimos frowns. “No I just don’t want to.”
“I’ll just play by myself then.”
“What? No!”
“Then play with me.”
“Fine. Only because you’re forcing me to.”