Not Quite Dirk, Definitely Family
So yeah, you wade through snow that's ankle-deep even where it's been shoveled, get up to the lil' covered porch, and then you kind of just...stall out. Which is stupid, standing here staring at the door and listening to Neet make displeased bird sounds next to your ear is stupid, but can you help that?
No. You can't. You can't do shit.
Wade's hand comes down on your shoulder, and you just barely manage not to jump. "Want me to do it?" he asks, instead of asking what the fuck's wrong with you, and holy fuck but you're glad to just nod, even if the movement makes Neet croak out a tiny caw and dig her beak into your neck.
The fact that he doesn't take his hand off your shoulder to hit the button is a relief too. Gives you something to concentrate on other than your own cowardly desire to pull up inside your coat like a god damn turtle and refuse to come out again, like, ever. That's a good plan, though. A great plan.
Fuck, you're scared.
Somehow, you don't flinch when the door opens, even though the guy who opens it is somebody you can't quite recognize. Like...your first thought is he's Dirk. He has to be Dirk; Dirk's the only one dumb enough to hook a pair of sharp anime shades into the neckline of his shirt when he knows there's an eighty percent chance that he'll forget they're there and move in a way that ends up with his neck scratched open by a point again. It's Dirk's face and Dirk's carefully spiked-up hair, but the look of excitement ain't one that Dirk would show this easy, and the hair's as white as yours.
His eyes are the same color as yours too, you realize when you bring yourself to look up and meet them. Or the same color as artificialIntellect's text on pesterchum.
"Hal." Ah, shit, you sound like you're about to fucking break. Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes probably isn't going to help, but you figure you might as well try. "Uh—hey—"
"HolyshitDave," Hal says, all one word with emphasis on your name, and hey, he sounds like Dirk too. Of fucking course he does, why would you think he wouldn't, he's—
You lose the thread of that thought when Hal laughs and grabs your wrists, pulling you two steps forward and into the house. There's a second of panic there when Wade's hand leaves your shoulder—shit, he actually is gonna leave you here, you won't have any way out if you need it—but then the door shuts behind you, despite the fact that Hal's still got both hands on your shoulders.
He's not leaving you. God, you need to fucking chill.
"Holy fucking shit, you were supposed to tell us when you got close—Dave, can I hug you?" Okay, the way that Hal comes straight at that question fucks you up again, a little bit; Dirk would ask too, but he'd come at it more sideways, like it's a theoretical question. This shit's gonna take some getting used to.
"Yeah, I can do the hug," you tell him, and he instantly wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. This is like Dirk, at least.
You should probably hug him back.
Or not. Not is good. Not is just fine, if it means you don't panic. You're totally not panicking.
Neet croons and pecks your earlobe, almost gently, and you say, "Ow, shit," even though it barely even hurts, jerking away from Hal so you can pull the hood down and let her hop out onto your shoulder...where she stays for about two seconds before cawing disapprovingly at Hal, taking flight to swoop at his head (he ducks) before making a surprisingly sharp turn and flapping back to perch on Wade's outstretched arm.
Shit, now Hal's paying attention to him. And Hal's fucking smiling, the kind of grin you've seen on Bro's face right before he calls for a strife. Dangerous.
You should either get out of the way, or step between them, and the fact that you can't decide which freezes you right the fuck up.
"Deadpool," Hal says, that grin still in place as his head tilts ever so slightly. "Wade Wilson."
"Right on both counts." At least Wade's keeping his tone friendly. Smart. Maybe. "Hal Strider."
"Did you remember that yourself, or did you just cheat off Dave?" Hal rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. (You can't help but tense up for a second; the beginning of that motion looks a hell of a lot like reaching for blades.)
"Hey, I looked you up on Wikipedia. You're shorter than I expected, but that's about all that doesn't match up." Wade shrugs, coaxing the crow onto his wrist so he can transfer her onto his shoulder. "Aren't there two of you?"
"Dirk's in the shower. If you'd texted me—"
"Nope."
"Advance warning was part of the deal."
"Nope!" (Wade's one hundred percent grinning under the mask. You know he is.)
Hal is not grinning. He scowls up at Wade, then wipes that off his face too, shrugging and turning away. "Come on, Dave. I'll get him out of the shower."
He literally told you to move, and you still can't. Well, not until Wade steps up and wraps an arm around your shoulders, steering you in the direction you should be going.
Huh. Everything seems to be moving slowly again. Maybe you should be worried about that.
...or not.
Okay, so maybe the reason that you're not worried about the whole time shit thing is that your current reaction to all of this is to just, like, not mentally be here at all. You're not really sure where your mind actually goes—maybe nowhere? It feels like nowhere. Feels like everything just kind of goes away, until you blink and realize that you're not moving and Hal just said your name.
"Are you all right, Dave?" he asks, and shit he said your name more than once already, didn't he.
You fucked up, okay; can you cover it up? "Yeah. I'm fine, 's all good—c'mere, Neet." She hops down onto your wrist when you reach up to Wade's shoulder; her weight and the pressure of her claws through your shirt helps a bit. "Zoned out for a sec."
Now why does the look of understanding that flickers across Hal's face send a spike of something hella uncomfortable up through your chest? More importantly, can he tell?
Apparently not, because all he says is, "Want to see something cool?" When you nod (half out of curiosity, half out of the knowledge that whatever he's going to do is gonna happen anyway) Hal puts one hand on the door in front of him, takes a deep breath, and...
Shit, you're not really sure how to explain this. It kind of looks like a high-quality animation; the change starts at his hand, bright electrical sparks arcing out at his contact with the metal of the doorknob. Then there's nothing but sparks at that contact, like he's melting into crackling reddish current.
It's like nothing you've ever seen before, and it seems to take a long fucking time for Hal to go from someone who looks like a normal fucking person to a shifting thing of electricity. Once he's changed, though, he just...melts through the metal doorknob.
"Damn, that's awesome," Wade mutters.
"That's, uh. Yeah. That's a word for it." Neet caws in irritation as you take a step back, claws tightening down on your arm. Wait, you didn't think you were moving fast enough to give her trouble balancing... "Uh...how long did that take, exactly?"
"A couple seconds, maybe?"
"Fuck."
"It seemed like more to you, huh?" He sighs, stepping close enough that he can wrap his arm around your shoulders instead of just having that hand rest on one. "It's okay."
"Yeah." No. It's really not.
"It feels like it's not?"
"Dude, quit reading my mind."
"Ooh, since you're not freaking out I'm going to assume that's a joke."
"Yeah, you th—"
You don't actually get to finish your sentence, because Dirk yelps from the other side of the door. You know that it's Dirk and not Hal, because even as Dirk yelps Hal slams the door open, jumps through and slams it shut again just in time for whatever Dirk threw at him to hit the door as it closes.
Okay, so that dangerous smile means something entirely different on Hal than it does on Bro, because he's smiling like that again. Maybe it's got something to do with the probability that he's gonna get his ass kicked?
"Give him a minute," Hal suggests, and then laughs as something much heavier than a bottle of shampoo—as in, Dirk himself—slams against the door, not quite knocking him off. "Okay, maybe two minutes."
"Hal, you fuck—"
"I'm not letting you out until you have pants on, brother dearest—"
Dirk swears, muffled through the door, and shoves against it again. Hal just grins at you.
And yeah, you smile back. For a second. Until you hear a door open and shut, somewhere down the stairs that you don't actually remember coming up.
"Shit, that'll be D—" Hal starts, and you know you should probably just wait for an okay to go down there but nope, not doing that, all of a sudden you can't fucking wait to get this shit over with.
Neet's talons leave your shoulder as you do a half-spin to get free of Wade's arm, you get one more quick look at the surprise on Hal's face and know you're moving too fast but fuck it, it's not like you know how you do it so you can't stop. Well, maybe you could, but you're not going to.
By the time you get to the bottom of the stairs, Wade and Hal still haven't moved, and D's still standing by the door. Fuck, he hasn't even had time to turn around from closing it yet, that's how little real time that took.
This time, you feel the tiny change as your personal version of time synchs up with actual time again. Or not so much that you feel it for the first time, as you recognize what the fuck that feeling of disconnect means.
The realization kind of feels like being kicked in the chest. It makes it just as hard to breathe as that would, stops you cold so you don't fucking react as D mumbles something about bastards stealing his parking spot, switches the bright pink insulated cup he's holding from one hand to another and turns around.
He's wearing his shades, but they're pushed up on his head because they're fogged up from the temperature difference. Means you get a perfect view of how his face goes from irritated to confused to something so relieved and happy that you can't fucking process it, can't imagine that that's for you. He drops the pink cup, and you almost flinch when it hits the floor and bounces but he doesn't seem to give a fuck because he's closed the five feet between you and him even before it rolls to a stop, he wraps his arms around you and scoops you right off your fucking feet, and yeah D's saying something and Hal's saying something somewhere closer than the top of the stairs and Neet's cawing like she wants your attention too, but...
They can wait a sec. All you can do right now is hug D and (maybe) not cry on him.