Stitched Together (Deimos x Sanford)

Thirteen

Clattering wakes you up. You've been asleep for about an hour and a half. Hushed whispers vaguely resemble a voice you've heard countless times.

"...D-.. Damn it..!" The voice shouts out. Metal hits the ground, the voice swears. A chair screeches across the floor as the voice winces from both the sound the object emits, and from their wounds.

Footsteps sound out, louder than the one swearing and knocking over whatever object is in their path.

The door's handle squeaks, and it opens. A lightswitch is flipped up with immense fury. This was the one thing that managed to wake you up from your sleep.

A figure cloaked in a blanket that was all black started arguing with someone who appeared to be half-naked standing near a gray folding chair. Both voices sounded familiar, but your tired, aching head stops you from remembering who the voices belonged to.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, I'VE BEEN UP FOR 3 HOURS LISTENING TO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU'RE DOING IN HERE. STOP THIS SHIT, THIS ISN'T FUCKING FUNNY." The first voice blared out, their voice echoes throughout the entire room.

The second voice coughs violently, and sniffles.

"I WAS TRYING TO NOT MAKE ANY NOISE, BUT THAT'S KINDA DIFFICULT WHEN FIRST, A PART OF YOUR FUCKING FACE GETS SHOT OFF, YOUR ARM IS ATTATCHED TO A FUCKING METAL POLE AND HAVE TONS OF OPEN FUCKIN' WOUNDS ALL OVER YOU!!" The second voice yells out, their voice screeching as they scream.

You sit up, and rub your eyes, to see Hank, completely covered in a black blanket, while a surprised, still half-naked Deimos grips the IV stand with so much force that his knuckles turn pale white. His eyes dark, his face suddenly lights up, with a sweet grin plastered across his face, as your body moves and you stand up without realizing.