forwards beckon rebound
Listen, Logan likes to consider himself an observant guy. He's been alive for well over 200 years, he's fought in multiple wars, he's been around the block a few times. He notices that there are days where he doesn't see Wade's face, the white eyes of the Deadpool mask barely meeting his. Logan notices that there are times where Wade locks himself in the bathroom for hours on end, cracking half-assed jokes whenever he knocks and asks him if he's okay. He notices that sometimes Wade doesn't get out of bed, or maybe can't get out of bed.
And Logan tries to help him, he really does. He knows that at one point Wade had cancer, that technically he isn't healing so much as regenerating cancerous cells. But he doesn't know what to do, and it happens so rarely that half the time he feels like he's overreacting. And then, he starts to notice it more.
Wade wakes up with a groan. He can feel the beginnings of a migraine already clouding his head, an ache starting to settle in his joints. He doesn't feel Logan's warmth behind him in the bed. (Logan's been doing better, but that means that he's settling back to a military-like schedule, rising with the sun at an hour of the morning that Wade frankly never wants to see.) When he attempts to sit up, his sense of balance disappears, black spots flashing in front of his eyes as he tries desperately to catch his breath and tamp down the nausea that threatens to rise up. Frustrated tears fill his eyes. Here he is, Wade Wilson, the Merc with the Mouth, who can't even get out of bed without almost falling over. He hates it, hates feeling weak and helpless. He should be stronger than this, he has to be stronger than this.
"Okay Wade, you got this. Just make it to the bathroom where you can spend the rest of the day feeling sorry for yourself," he whispers. He's infinitely glad that Logan is already gone. There's no need to bother him with this. He's got it. He's been dealing with it for years. Wade swings his legs over the side of the bed, orienting himself. There's a tingling in his legs where he knows his blood is already pooling, and when he feels around his knees, the joints are swollen and sensitive to the touch. His t-shirt is scratching against the scars on his chest, so he rips it off and flings it to the other side of the room, panting slightly from the effort. His skin feels itchy and he entertains the idea of scratching it all off. Would it itch worse if it was regenerating? He scoffs, shaking his head at himself. It would so be worse.
He stands slowly, managing to keep his head on straight enough to grab the glass of water by his bedside table. By the time he's made it to the bathroom, he's shaking, so dizzy he can barely see, and has a sharp pain in his chest that's probably his heart failing and restarting over and over again. He collapses gratefully on the cool tile floor, kicking the door shut behind him. The bathroom is easily the cleanest place in the entire apartment, mainly because it has to be. Wade has spent at least one day a week stuck in this room, so he's learned how to make it bearable. There's a few blankets in the linen closet next to a spare change of sweats and a hoodie that doesn't irritate his scars. His meds (that probably don't do anything anymore) are in the cabinet, he takes them more out of habit than anything else. A false comfort. He spreads one of the blankets out on the floor, curls up in front of the toilet, and begins a long day of hurling up nothing but stomach acid and blood.
Logan had risen with the sun that morning, taken Dogpool out on her morning run, and was finally back in the apartment after running a few errands. He places the grocery bags on the counter, glancing around the surprisingly quiet apartment. He and Wade have moved into a more spacious two bedroom now that he has the job at the mansion, with Althea of course, though she's rarely ever home. Logan heads to his and Wade's bedroom, and is slightly surprised to see the bed empty. He knocks on the bathroom door.
"Darlin? You in there?" He sniffs a bit, Wade's normal smell of leather and metal tinged with more rot than usual. He hears a groan from the bathroom, and then Wade's voice.
"Don't worry about me, honey bear. I'm fine." Wade's voice is shakey at best, and Logan is immediately worried. He tries the handle and finds it locked.
"Can I come in then?" Logan asks, trying to not sound impatient.
Wade lets out a small laugh at that. "Love, you don't want to see this. I'm fine, I promise."
Logan has to fight his first impulse, which is to break down the door and make sure Wade is alright. But he's been working on being a good partner and right now, Wade is asking for space. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes this has happened a lot recently. There's something wrong with Wade, and because his boyfriend has the self-survival skills of a small toddler, Logan has to figure out what it is on his own. He tells Wade that he'll be there if he needs him, and Wade makes a noise of assent.
Logan considers his options while he makes a cup of coffee. He could track down Al, ask her if she knows anything. He's a little afraid to find out what that woman does in her spare time, so he decides to table that idea as a last resort. Oh. There's one person who's bound to know what's going on.
He picks up his phone, calling one of the numbers that he had only put on the thing for emergencies. "Vanessa? Hey, it's Logan. I think something is wrong with Wade."
Wade knows the minute Vanessa steps foot in the apartment. He can smell the takeout that he knows she'll place in the fridge, can hear her gentle laugh as she teases Logan about his panic. And then he hears her soft knock on the bathroom door.
It brings him back to a few years ago after his diagnosis. When he realized that more of his days would be spent in a bathroom, shaking and puking. He had pulled away from Vanessa, the same way he was pulling away from Logan now. It had come to a head when he had passed out once, and Vanessa had demanded they sit down and lay out some boundaries. He was allowed to keep himself sequestered in the bathroom, but the door had to remain unlocked, and Vanessa was allowed check ins every once and a while. They had developed a routine, and then Wade had ruined it by sneaking off in hopes of a cure.
He hears more rustling and drags himself towards the bathroom door. He unlocks it, and Vanessa cracks it open. "Hey buddy." Her voice is soft, her eyes kind, and Wade feels like crying all over again.
"Hey, Ness. I've really worried him, haven't I?" Wade's voice is hoarse, little more than a whisper. Vanessa sits down on the other side of the door, getting comfortable. She slides a blue Gatorade through the crack, followed by Saltines and a heating pad. She remembers everything from their little routine, and Wade's heart clenches so hard he's not sure if its from the flare up or the emotion. He takes the items gratefully, managing a small sip of the Gatorade.
"It took a bit of convincing to get him to not drag you to the mansion for testing. I talked him through the routine, so he knows now." She doesn't try to come in, and for that Wade is thankful because he really is crying now. The Gatorade tastes sour in his mouth, so he nudges it to the corner he's set himself up in. Vanessa notices because of course she does. "Nice set up you've got here. Good to know that hoodie has still made it." Wade allows himself a laugh.
The hoodie is huge, worn down enough that the inside is soft and cottony and doesn't bother him. It was something Vanessa had gotten him once he had started complaining about how cold he always was. The sleeves are fraying and he's sure it smells like vomit but she doesn't look at him with anything but kindness. "Are you trying to say that I'm not careful with my things?"
She huffs a laugh at that. "Why didn't you tell Logan? You know that he would drop everything to be here with you."
Wade sighs. He hadn't meant to lie to Logan, honestly. "Logan's been through so much, lost so many people. I didn't want him to constantly be worried about losing me too. He knows that I'll heal, but it can't be healthy to watch someone go through this. I know that."
Vanessa meets his gaze. "It's hard to watch the people you love suffer, Wade. It's worse to not be able to support them while they go through it." That's pointed at him and he knows it, can feel the knife land exactly where she aimed it. "Listen Wade, we didn't work because both of us had trouble fully opening up to each other. I never told you how hard those years of you being gone were for me. You were never honest with how hard all of this has been on you." She grasps his hand through the crack in the door, making sure to only touch where the sweater is to not further irritate his scars. "You have a second chance now, with someone who is like you, who has been through things like you have. That means somethin, love."
He nods. He knows how lucky he is to have Logan here. He is gobsmacked every day that Logan decides to stay with him, to stay in this universe, this timeline. "What if this messes it all up?"
Vanessa squeezes his hand. "Then you'll get another amazing best friend out of it. Trust me Wade, you are an incredibly hard person to abandon. Even if this complicates things, Logan will stick around. I'll stick around. We all will." Wade meets her gaze and gives her the biggest smile he can muster, which isn't a lot. He kisses her hand, and she goes to stand up.
"Do you want me to send him in?" she asks as she begins to leave. Wade shakes his head, can feel the Gatorade creeping back up his throat, the blackness threatening his vision.
"Could you tell him I need a bit more time?" She nods, and closes the bathroom door for him.
"Feel better, bud." He hums back to her, curling up on the blanket laid out in the corner, clutching the heating pad to his cramping stomach as he leans against the wall tiredly.
Logan straightens up when he hears Vanessa come back into the kitchen. He'd been sitting at the kitchen island, slumped down as he contemplated why Wade would hide his pain from him. "Is he alright?" he asks.
Vanessa starts unpacking the rest of the bags she brought with her. "All things considered, I think he's okay. He cracked a few jokes, managed to drink some Gatorade. Give him a few more hours and then try to get him to eat a little."
Logan watches her quietly for a few minutes. She puts some soup from Wade's favorite place in the fridge, stacks some more gatorade on the counter. She pulls some black cloth out of another bag, and now Logan is more confused than ever.
"What's that?" She holds up the cloth, and it turns out to be a pair of socks.
"These are compression socks. I'm not sure he'll want them, it seemed like his skin was bothering him, but it helps when his blood pooling gets bad. There are also some compression sleeves for his knees and elbows, his joints normally hurt when he flares up like this." She goes on, teaching him the proper ways to wash them so that they don't get ruined, how to wrestle Wade into an ice bath if his fever gets too high, and alternatively how to wrestle him into a warm bath if his temperature drops too much.
Logan sighs, puts his head in his hands. "Why didn't he tell me about all of this? I would've called you sooner, would've been able to help more." She comes around the island, drapes an arm around him and pulls him into a one sided hug. They've never been close, Logan always feeling awkward about where the two of them stood. Vanessa had been nothing but kind towards him, and now that they share this, he leans into it.
"He never wants to be a burden for those he cares about. He didn't want to mess up your healing." She knocks her head gently against his. "Much like someone else I know."
Logan huffs a laugh at that. "Yeah, Wade and I are pretty similar in that aspect, aren't we?"
She laughs too. "Yeah you are. Two sides of the same coin. How are you doing?"
They pull apart, and Logan takes a sip of his coffee before replying. "This doesn't change anything. I'm worried about him, I want to be there for him, but if this is how I need to do it, then this is how I'll do it." Vanessa smiles at that. "Actually Vanessa, do you mind staying here a bit longer? I have an idea."
Wade isn't sure how much time has passed, slipping into a fretful sleep between puking episodes. His bones hurt, his joints hurt, but he's managing to keep down more Gatorade, and even attempted a Saltine that stayed down for an impressive ten minutes. Logan had come back into the bedroom a little bit ago, but had only paced up and down outside the door.
"Logan, you're gonna wear a hole in the floor." Wade groans as he moves, but unlocks the bathroom door. He hears rustling and then a thud as 400 pounds of adamantium covered Wolverine sit down on the other side of it. The door opens a crack, and there's Logan in all his glory. His eyebrows are furrowed and he's gnawing on his lip the way he does when he's worried. He's wearing one of Wade's hoodies and a pair of Wolverine pajama pants that Wade bought him as a joke. He's fidgeting with a bag.
"Hey lover, how are ya feelin?" Logan asks, voice low. Wade huddles deeper into his hoodie, pulling the hood further up so that Logan doesn't see his face.
"A little like cancer warmed up. I'm sorry if -"
"Stop it, Wade. There's no need to apologize. I get it." And Wade stops, allows himself to sit and shiver and simply stare at his boyfriend. "Okay, I don't get it get it, but I understand why you hid it from me. You've got quite the set up here."
Wade turns, surveys the spot he's spent the past ten hours in. The blanket covering the tile is a scrunched mess, a half empty gatorade bottle and not eaten saltines sit next to another blanket that Wade had been curled under. He hides a little more into himself.
"I think it needs a few more things," Logan says as he slides the bag through the cracked door. Wade sighs a little, feeling too sick to deal with all of this.
"Look, Logan, I don't need your pity." Logan growls a little at that.
"Just open the damn thing, bub."
Wade opens the bag to find a Hello Kitty stuffed animal (one that he doesn't have), a fidget toy, and - hold on a minute. "Logan, did you buy me edibles??"
He looks up to see Logan blushing, and Wade, for a brief second, forgets how much pain he is, and laughs at the image of the Wolverine at the shop down the road, trying to figure out what forms weed comes in now a days. When Wade eventually calms, he has to slouch on the bathroom counter he's sitting up against to fight for breath and Logan looks two seconds away from bursting into the bathroom to hold him, but he feels better than he has all day. He knows the laughter will cost him, will have him in front of the toilet again soon, stomach heaving, but for now he simply smiles, scoops up his new items, and crawls back into his nest. Logan nudges the door open a little further as Wade gets settled again.
"Thank you, love. This all means a lot to me." Wade hugs his new stuffy to his chest, allowing his hood to slip down a little.
"Of course. Can I come in? Sit with ya?" Logan asks softly, and Wade feels his heart stutter. He's conflicted. He hates being seen like this, small and weak and sick. But cuddling with Logan sounds amazing right now.
"You really wanna be in here? Having to move every ten minutes when my body decides it hates me again?"
Logan doesn't hesitate, nodding immediately. "I'm not goin anywhere, Wade. I'll sit right out here all night if you'd rather, but I want to be here for you. I want to be with you."
Wade feels tears prick his eyes and sniffles, hoping that Logan will blame it on his flare up. Wade is barely nodding before Logan is up, heading back into the bedroom for something before coming back into the bathroom. He moves slowly, like he wants to be gentle with Wade.
"Here darlin, sit up for a second." Wade moves out of the corner he's shoved himself in between the wall and the lip of the bathtub, and Logan places a pillow where he had been. Logan sits down after, getting comfortable and then beckoning Wade back. Wade sprawls between Logans legs, leaning against his chest comfortably. He hugs one arm around Logan's waist, sandwhiching his new stuffy between them.
"How did you know I didn't have this one yet?" Wade asks. He's not sure why this is what he's focused on, but he's dizzy again from all the moving and he knows it won't be long before he has to vacate this amazing position. Logan hums, Wade basking in the vibrations that rumble through the other man's chest.
"I know you, Wade. And I know that its probably your worst nightmare for me to see you like this, but I just want you to know that it doesn't change anything." Wade hums back, the only acknowledgement he knows he'll be able to give. He's too tired, too sick for all of these big feelings and he knows Logan gets it.
The next time he has a flare up, he only spends two hours sequestered alone in the bathroom before he calls Logan and asks him to come home. Logan leaves the mansion immediately, makes it back in record time with another hello kitty stuffed animal and blue gatorade.