M4DN3SS R3DACT3D (a sh!t madness combat story)

[[0NE]]

"Hold still."

"I'm trying- Ow!!"

"Stop fucking moving!"

"I can't!"

"YES YOU-"

Hank sat back from Deimos, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long sigh. Deimos was looking at him like he didn't know what the problem was.

"I can't patch you up if you can't stay still." Hank spoke again, struggling to keep his tone even.

Deimos crossed his arms. "It's not my fault you're shitty at this."

Hank rolled his eyes, though Deimos couldn't see that. "Oh gimme a break. You'd be doing even worse right now."

Before Hank could get back to work (or at least try to), the door swung open, hitting the wall, and both men looked up in shock. For a moment Hank was sure someone was breaking in or something. Who else would be that rough w-

"'Ford!"

Deimos reacted before Hank had time to. As he shifted to stand up, Hank shoved him back.

"Ow!" Deimos flinched back, looking down at the roughly-stitched wounds on his body.

"Sit. Down." Hank spoke firmly, trying to ignore the slight guilt he felt for pushing him. He was hurt enough already, why did he do that?

Eh. In Hank's mind, he kinda deserved it.

Hank quickly approached the taller man in the doorway. Sanford, breathless and barely standing, slammed the door behind him.

...Which he immediately regretted.

"Fuck," He fell back against the door, pressing his hands to his eyes under his glasses. The bandages around his torso were bloodstained and torn, and his entire body was covered in new bruises, bleeding cuts, and what looked to be a lot of ash and dirt.

"Thank-fuckin'-god, I was gettin' tired of dealing with that one," Hank motioned to Deimos. The younger man had completely ignored this comment and was staring at Sanford.

Sanford let out a long sigh, quickly trying to pull himself together. A bit of concern would've been nice, but he didn't have the energy to say that.

"Sanford c'mere, you okay?" Deimos called out, "Let me get a look at ya."

There it is. At least someone cared.

"You gotta deal with him. The fucker's not stayin' still, I can't patch him up right." Hank complained as Sanford shakily approached Deimos, taking a seat on the chair across from him.

"Really now?" Sanford murmured, already digging through the first aid kit on the table beside him. "You bein' too rough with him?"

"What?! No! He's just- not cooperating!"

Sanford was trying not to smile, but he failed enough for Deimos to notice. "Mmhmm.. sure.."

He moved closer to Deimos, gently grabbing his arm to fix the open wound near his shoulder.

"Already clean. Good." he snickered, "'Least Hank did that right."

He could practically feel Hank glaring at him as he worked on the stitching. Not really to his surprise, more so to Hank's, Deimos stayed completely still.

"What the hell?" Hank looked at Deimos, "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

"Nahh, 'course not. Sanford jus makes it less painful." Deimos smirked, turning his arm to look at the scar when Sanford backed up. "Ay, it looks great. Thanks, 'Ford."

"'Course." Sanford put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it slightly. Deimos smiled, even if it hurt a bit. "If Hank did a shitty job with your other wounds and something happens, I'll fix it up for you, mkay?"

"Oh FUCK off." Hank sighed exasperatedly. "Don't you have work to do on yourself anyway?"

"Mmm.. it can wait." Sanford shrugged. He stood up with a slight grunt and walked to the open door of the room him and Deimos had to share since they'd arrived at the place. "M'gonna go sleep. For a bit. Maybe a week or two."

"Oh no you don't," Deimos stood up and quickly walked after him, following him into the room. "I know damn well you-"

Hank rolled his eyes, choosing to tune the pair out for now. He wondered what Sanford had to deal with when he was out there by himself. They hadn't even left him for that long, but he came in looking way more ragged than they'd left him for what felt like just a minute or two. Who the hell did that?