Death to Come
Logan sniffed out the area around him. All he could smell was smoke from a revolver and an overwhelming scent of blood, fresh blood. Wade, or famously known as Deadpool, stalks behind him. His feeble attempt at scaring him annoyed him further. The fresh blood on Wade's red suit irritated his nose and played with his brain. “Wade, stay focused on the task at hand. This is your one last chance to kill him,” Logan growled, a vein in his forehead popping at the sound of sharpening katanas. Wade sighed reluctantly and sat next to him, “sorry peanut, I’m just so excited! I’ve been working my ass off to try and track him and here we are!” Logan grunted in understatement.
Logan rose up from the floor with a grunt; Wade rose too. The room around was miscellaneous, gas chambers and peroxides scattered around the bloody walls. The scent of the room was musty, and overwhelming. Decaying corpses hang from chairs and desks filled with poisons. Broken test tubes broke under the foot of Wade and Logan as they walked to the metal door.
Logan punched and kicked at the stubborn door, leaving gouges and dents throughout the door. The door had finally developed a gouge so great, to where both men could fit through the door. “I hope Francis has home insurance, ‘cause I’m not paying for that shit,” Wade commented, stepping through the large gauge.
The dark room was large and ominous. Oxygen tanks were placed around the walls of the room. Test tubes and lab stands laid across multiple shelves and tables. Operating rooms with glass were walls placed in the center of the room. Two combat exoskeletons rested in their designated charging station, a possible weapon Francis was developing.
The room flooded Wade's wind with unwanted memories; as well as Logan. A particular glass chamber caught Logan's eyes while Wade wandered silently around the room. Inside was a human-sized test tube. With closer inspection, Logan saw a small fragile body connected to multiple tubes that most likely contained blood and a strong drug.
“Don’t touch that.”
Logan turned his head to see an unfamiliar figure slowly descend down the black metal stairs. The man's grip around the iron railing looked painful, but the annoyed expression on his face overshadowed any sign of it. “Wade fucking Wilson, I should have known you’d find me again somehow. You're like a tick, pathetic,” the figure snarled. “Y’know, ticks are pretty hard to kill, thick ticks especially,” Wade commented, his stance changing into a sassy one as his hands rested on his hips. Logan rolled his eyes at Wade's retort.
Francis rolled his eyes at his remark. “If you’ve come for the mutants, you're too late. They’ve already been transported,” Francis remarked, now leaning across the banister. Logan turned back to the glass chamber. “Then what the hell is this?” Logan asked, his brows furrowing as to what it could possibly be.
“Oh, her? A project,” Francis answered, crossing his arms. Logan raised one bushy eyebrow, signaling for Francis to elaborate more. Wade on the other hand, wasn’t paying attention. “My project over here has been with me for quite some time,” Francis glanced at the encased girl. “She has cancer just like our Wade-,” “What the hell are you doing with a cancer patient?” Logan spat, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
“If you let me fucking talk, I’ll tell you,” Francis spat back, a vein popping in his corner of his head. Logan growled but kept his mouth shut. Wade also kept quiet but stared intensely. “Her mom didn’t want her so I offered to adopt her, what a shame,” Francis chuckled. Wade clutched the grip of his gun.
“I wanted to make her just like you, Wade. Since you were a success,” Francs said. Logan hated how he described Wade as an experiment, a mere object. “Fight fire with fire and you may get burnt, y’know,” Francis shrugged, it seemed like Wade was at his limit before he fired at Francis.
Of course Francis dodged, and now the true battle began. Wade fired again but with two pistols. A few pierced Francis’ skin, but didn’t stun his movement. Francis grabbed the nearest gun and fired at both of them. One bullet hit Logan in the arm, which made him roar in fury. Logan jumped up to Francis and stabbed him in the neck.
Francis groaned in pain but gripped his gun and shot Logan in his neck. Logan's claw didn’t slip out of Francis’ neck but he yelled in pain. Wade came up from behind and used a survival knife to stab him in the head. Francis was a mutant of course, but didn't have a healing factor. Francis coughed up blood as the shine in his eye faded. “Short and sweet,” Wade muttered. “That's what happens when you do your fucking job, bub,” Logan groaned, his healing factor patching up his blood wounds.
Francis’ shaky hands picked up the gun once more and shot at his project, the liquid in her containment turning ruby red. “No!” Wade yelled, jumping from the mental railing and punching at the glass to possibly save her.
Glass from the containment cracks as Wade punches at the glass. He watches in agony as the blood from the girl spills from his mouth. “No! Fuck!” Wade yelled once again, the glass broken to the point of a huge hole developing.
Wade's now bloody hand grabs the girl's arm, his whole hand around her wrist. The girl looked no older than ten in Wade's arms as his fingers stroke the wound embedded in her chest. To his dismay, the wound was no longer there under her large hospital gown. Wade sighed, carried her in bridal position, and turned to face Logan with a relaxed expression he wouldn’t quite see.
“Kids okay?” Logan asked, his wound fully healed. “Yeah, kids okay,” Wade repeated, his eyes lowering to the kid in his arms. Her breathing was subtle, but stable. “Francis’ dead,” Logan said with a smirk, “I checked for a pulse and everything.” Wade nodded in understanding, “I would’ve jumped in joy if I didn’t have honeycomb over here in my arms,” Wade explained.
Logan's eyes flickered to the girls, then back to Wade’s. The girl was bald, just like Wade. Her eyebrows were very thin. It seemed like she was able to keep her eyelashes, but they were very small. “What will we do with the kid?” Logan questions, crossing his arms. “Keep her,” Wade answered quickly, not looking at Logan but the child in his arms.
Logan's eyebrows furrowed. He knew both of them weren’t fit to take care of a child her age, especially not with Althea and all her drugs. It wouldn’t be a safe environment for any of them. “No,” Logan said sternly, “You and I both know that would be a terrible idea.”
“She doesn’t have a home and-”
“Wade, enough, we can-”
“She's a mutant,”
“They don’t gotta to-”
“They’ll fucking kill her!”
Logan's eyes slightly widened at Wade’s sudden outburst. He’s never seen him so passionate about someone outside of his life before. The child in his arms tosses and turns a little, but doesn’t wake up. Logan knew he was telling the truth, but he wasn’t ready for the sudden change. “The orphanage wouldn’t take her in if they found out what she’s been through. They’d probably sell her to science,” Wade muttered, now looking intensely into Logan's now softened eyes.
“We can give her to the X men,” Logan says, the words uncertain on his tongue. “Fuck no. Logan, give us a chance,” Wade pleaded. Even though Wade was wearing a mask, Logan could see his eyes droop and his brows bend. Logan thought for a moment, looking at the peacefully resting child. “Fine, for her,” Logan said roughly, looking at the child once more.
“Yeah, for her,” Wade nodded, looking down at the child too. Wade didn’t know how Althea would react, but she needed a home and Wade was willing to provide for her.