In Which Mental Breakdowns Occur and Plot 2.0 Is Set Up.
Memories rush past his head in a blur. He barely gets it to focus on one before another comes in.
Blue. Down a tube. His elbow itches.
Cold, cold, so cold it burns. Shaking limbs and blue lips.
Screaming, thrashing, the cool metal table as he's shoved against it and no bound.
Gagged, choking, tears and blood an pain.
Fire in his veins.
Have to find the end, have to find the end.
Turn left, dead end - shock! - pain, pain, spasms and twitched.
Fire in his veins, fire in his veins.
Screaming, screaming.
Needle so close to his eye it's blurry.
Hot, hot, so hot it's cold. Skin being to melt and bubble and turn a shade of pink it's almost red.
Cruel smiles.
Pokes and prods, spider sense so stimulated he's paralyzed. Pain. Pain.
Skin in his back tearing, the sound of blood splattering. More screaming.
Fire in his veisn, fire in his veisn, fire in his veins!
Mouth shredding open, new pincers clipping. Screaming.
Screaming, screaming, screaming.
Pen clicking.
"Perfect subject."
Forehead burst open, eyes growing in. Screaming, screaming, screaming, pain, pain, pain.
Begging.
Thrashing, screaming, no, no, elbow slamming against metal table. Arms holding him down. Thick straps with frayed edges.
Fire in his veins, fire in his veins, fire in his veins, FIRE IN HIS VEINS.
"It hurts!" Peter shrieks, "It hurts! Get it out, get it out, get it out!" He begs, clawing at the inside of his elbow. Vision flashing between his lab and theirs.
"Get it out!" He sobs, and he can feel the blue liquid searing through him. He screams, weakly, as he relives the moments. "Fire, fire, fire in my veins," he chants.
There's another scream, this of rage, and he grabs the nearest object - an already destroyed machine he didn't remember the name or use of - and hurls it at the wall. His scream loud and ragged and angry as he stands. His body lashing out as he fights painful past with an infuriated present.
"I will not go back!" He screams, and he chants that to. "I will not go back- Never! I will not go back- Never!" He's slamming something against something repeatedly, it's getting crushed further and further.
His mind blanks again. Another rush of memories.
~
The door opens, and Peter turns to the sound instantly. The lab is destroyed, honestly. Every part of his is ripped or torn or burned or broken. Even the lights on the rather high ceiling are hanging of wires, shattered, or sparking with sudden bursts of electricity. His breath is ragged, and his chest heaves everytime it inhales and exhales. He's panting like a dog, really.
He's on the floor, straddling a table with its legs snapped off and smashing it repeatedly with one of those legs. Metal smashing against metal in a clanging noise that rings through his head, and makes him unable to think of anything else. He smashes the leg on it again, his body vibrating with the sound as he mind leaves again.
"Spin-Doll?" Deadpool calls in cautiously, "I made you some fly soup? Well, I tried to. I've never made fly soup before, so it might taste like shit 'n diarrhea, but..."
"Fire in my veins," Peter says weakly, because the sensation is back, and memories are already starting to rush in like a flood. "Fire in my veins," he insists, scratching at the vein in his elbow again, which causes more blood to pool out.
There's dried blood and scratch marks all over him. Bruises and every manner of injury litter his body, either placed intentionally or caused by an overexertion of some form. Deadpool looks around again.
"Okay baby boy, fire in your veins," he responds placatingly, "Why don't you come with me, alright? I'll get you some soup and we'll see if the fire goes away."
Peter insists again, "Fire in my veins!" But he stands and wanders over to Deadpool on unsteady feet. His brain is broken at the moment. All he can process is the fire in his veins and the promise of its disapearance.
Deadpool leads over to a bar stool and shoves a bowl in front of him, placing a spoon in it and turning to his own, separate plate of food. Peter takes a few bites, and then, finding his body suddenly filled with the sensation of starvation, he eats at a greedy pace.
Slowly, the sensations and memories drain out of him and into a jar at the back of his mind. When he's finally stable enough to be considered normal, he's almost desperate to forget. But he doesn't. The memory of the freak out is seared into him, though a lot of it is a blur.
He manages a conversation with Deadpool, and then they go downstairs to interrogate Jarred. It's a lot of fun, really, combining there methods. Although most of the memory is forgotten by Peter a few minutes later, as he's still somewhat drained from the mental melt down.
All he knows is this. Deadpool is going to Florida, and he's going to China. Florida has some facility there that has files they need, and China has a facility there that should hold some more files. They've both mutually decided they were working together on this. Sort of. They agreed to stay in touch, as to help the taking down of Weapon X.
Although they both know there's a problem. A very, very significant problem.
Weapon X was a Canadian program. Thought it's spread it's roots to the US, it really doesn't have a place in Asia or Europe at all. Which really means one thing.
There working with someone else.