my friend made a joke like this like, a few hours ago, and i had to write it.

also, for the sake of any confusion, 'doc', is 2BDamned, aka the new guy from rockmos adventures part 420


"So, who are you supposed to be, exactly?"

There was a brief pause, the man on the other side of the room, wearing a very distinctive looking mask with red goggles merely replied with, "I'm a doctor."

Deimos, although his face was mostly covered by incredibly overgrown, tangled looking bangs and the other half of his face had a rock ingrowth problem, still managed to make an expression that basically read, 'i've been dead for almost a month now and this is some bullshit'.

"A doctor," Deimos repeated, blank expression situated on his face. "like, a doctor-doctor. A healer."

"Yes." Doc replied, either choosing to ignore the obvious disbelief in Deimos' voice, or he wasn't able to read the room too well.

"Like, as in a trained professional who helps heal others, someone who saves lives."

"That's a little overdramatic, but, yes."

There was a brief second where Deimos almost wanted to scream, but instead he broke eye contact and slowly, and very carefully rubbed at the sides of his temples. It didn't actually feel very good, however, due to the very rough nature of his new hands. Still hadn't gotten quite used to those yet.

Alright. Very admittedly, Deimos has been dealing with a migraine ever since he got back to Nevada. Being brought back to life is a miracle if he ever saw one, but it turns out that fighting people in purgatory and then fighting people in the real world is very, very different.

Different as in, straight after killing the mags that had come after him in the real world, he pretty much collapsed straight afterwards, more exhausted from his own powertrip than anything else.

He had to be dragged back into the homebase of, well, his brand new 'friend', it seemed. He didn't realize how badly he needed sleep until that happened.

Finally, he snapped. "YOU STABBED ME IN THE HEAD WITH A SYRINGE."

"It travels faster to the brain that way," Doc was seemingly unaffected by his outburst, almost as if he had to deal with similar outbursts frequently. "It isn't as if there are many exposed spots on your body for me to be able to give you the medicine in a more practiced way."

Something in Deimos wanted to scream. Not really with his vocal cords, but just, something spiritually. Like an inner, just, turmoil suffering.

He took a deep breath. "You stabbed me before you even greeted me."

Doc pointed a finger. "I needed to do it very quickly." He stated, almost matter-a-factly.

"I don't know how to explain to you that you shouldn't stab people who, gee, might be a little on edge from being in purgatory." Deimos pressed both his hands together, the sound it made was similar to that of two rocks being tapped together.

Then, unexpectedly, Doc actually scoffed a little in response, looking to the side. "Thought you were a soldier."

"What's that supposed to mean," Deimos said in a challenging tone of voice.

"Oh, I don't know, I just kind of figured that going through training and taking other people's lives might make you less of a whiney little bitch, but, that's just me." Doc merely offered a shrug, as if there was no weight to what he said at all.

Pride. Pride was being tampered with here. You can mess with a lot of things, but you don't mess with a man's pride, especially when it had been dragged through LITERAL hell and back. Deimos stood up, instantly pointing a finger at Doc from across the room. "What did you call me you motherfuuuu…!"

The sound that Deimos made when he made loud contact with the floor was similar to a large rock falling on the ground.

Doc merely glanced at him before striding over. "Try not to move too much, you're on a lot of pain medication, you know."

Deimos had gotten knocked over and stabbed in the back with chains more times then he could've counted, yet now, all of that just seemed like a pinch in the side as he laid out on the floor, groaning in pain.

He still, however, tried to defend any lingering masculinity he had left. He had to. "I don't...need it, I'm, fine, I...I've been through a lot worse."

"Oh, I know." If he wasn't wearing the mask, one might've seen Doc was smirking. "Like that time I gave you that injection with my syringe so you wouldn't die?" He clasped his own cheek. "You're very brave."

Deimos gripped his own stomach as he resisted the urge to vomit the rest of his organs out. "You're the worst, ghn...Hank replacement ever."

In response, Doc cocked an eyebrow. "Who?"