“Nah, they pumped me full with some kind of shit. They never meant to treat the cancer, they just wanted to make super soldiers out of a bunch of assholes who had hope and then sell ‘em to the highest bidder,” he shrugged, although he still found it hard to believe that was an actual part of his life, and not something from some fucked up superhero movie. “It’s cool, at least you didn’t assume I became like this the same way Freddy Krueger did, because then we’d have to rumble and tumble like in the old days.” There was a hint of a smile on his face as he reminisced about their past.
“Technically, I don’t belong in the same category as you anymore, I’m a super human now,” while it was a sad truth, he said it with pride and a big ass grin on his face. “But, since there’s like Avengers and X-Men – who both don’t want me in their teams for a strange reason – I figured there’s gotta be someone to undo the do. Maybe Scarlet Witch can hex everyone into thinking I’m Brad Pitt or something.” He chuckled at the thought, not even Shania Twain could say that it didn’t impress her much. Who the heck could say no to Brad Pitt anyway? “Well, it’s not just there to look pretty,” he pushed the bucket even more towards Rick. “You said that with such.. hesitation, I might feel inclined to start running now. What’s up with your life, bud?”
“Sounds kinky…” Rick muttered at the picture of Wade being sold off to bidders, only to lighten the tension that had brewed more on his side than Wade who recalled the tragic tale almost carelessly. He understood. Rick himself could be quite bitter and passive regarding such matters, it was a coping mechanism, and sometimes the last standing wall of defense. Many parts of the past deserved to be pushed aside. You couldn’t repair or take it all back after all. “Is that an invitation?” The soldier asked, left brown quirked up along with both corners of his lips. “’gonna knock me upside the head with a drumstick this time?”
”Pfft, well, excuse me.” Now it was Richard’s turn to feel a pinch of insult, not that Wade had any true influence or control over it. Being the odd human out… wasn’t very easy. Now even Wade considered himself beyond the Colonel like so many others. Despite his sensitive pride, Rick smiled along, and took the comment as another one of Wilson’s flippant jabs. “'guess it’s worth a shot… I wouldn’t fuck around with a witch though, personally, but… desperate times and all that.” His warning fell flat given that the mercenary would have no idea where it stemmed from. “What if everyone took you for Betty White? It’d be precious.”
Rick at long last leaned forward and helped himself to the meal that was mostly lukewarm at this point. That didn’t phase him. At the question, he chuckled through his nose, “Aw, you know. Stuff. ‘lead a bunch of freaky, psychotic, criminals and mass murderers on suicide missions while thinking I’m making the world a better place. When in reality ‘m probably expediting the next World War–this time with people that go boom. People like my fresh-outta-college archeologist girlfriend.“
“You have nooo idea,” he sung with a wiggle of his brow. “With a face like this, complicated is my middle name. She’s like me, but prettier, sexier and sometimes even funnier – but don’t tell her I told her that.” He leaned in to whisper the last part. “Well, probably.. but that shouldn’t stop our romance from blooming.”
Rick huffed out a small snort around the rim of his glass, taking a sip while he listened. The way Wade described the mystery woman shouldn’t have surprised Flag. It would take someone with such qualities to win this jokers heart over. “Aw, if she is every bit how you described her, I’m sure she’s already quite aware.” Rick replied with a friendly smirk and knowing gaze. “I hope things will work out… it is good to have a friend, regardless. One person you can trust.” That was all Flag could really ask for when it came to any relationship. “You nasty son of a bitch.” Rick chuckled, certain this was yet another long running inside joke he was simply not in on. “Speaking of those doctors you were looking for; there should be at least one hundred schmoozing around tonight–it is a billionaire’s party.”
“Even more than ripping your dick off? I gotta meet this girl.” He was this close to becoming one of those cartoons where the eyes popped out of their skulls. At his question Wade furrowed his brow and tapped his chin for a few seconds before he finally answered. “I kind of have a girlfriend, although not so sure if she’s currently my girlfriend, or still my fiancee for that matter. Other than that, me and Spider-Man are totally gonna get hitched.”
“If that’s what you’re into.” Rick wouldn’t doubt for a second Katana would do just that if given the right incentive–or no incentive at all for that matter. “‘sounds complicated.” He teased while chuckling to himself. Considering the situation Rick found himself in with a certain possessed doctor, he knew complicated. “So you’ve got a friend, what’s she like? Must be special since, well, you didn’t seem like the type to get hitched while I knew you overseas.” Rick furrowed his brow slightly, certain the merc was joking, “That guy’s like… in high school, isn’t he?”
Wade wiggled his brows at Rick’s confession. He knew that’d get to him. “Well, not to go all Step-Brothers on you, but we clearly know who’s the most attractive one in this situation.” He flashed him a smile as he put his fist under his chin, like the perfect high school picture. “Somewhere behind that ‘I’ll rip your dick off’ facade she’s pretty. You sure you don’t wanna go there?”
Rick shook his head once again and shrugged all while wearing a satisfied grin, “Clearly.” He replied. Both men just a bit too cocky for their own good–especially Rick while standing in Wade’s presence. The man didn’t fail to be a horrid influence. “No.” Rick answered in a relaxed tone, “My colleague has more to offer than that.” The Colonel was passionate about keeping power between genders fair–in fact, most of the women in Rick’s life were greater, more dependable, fighters than the fellow men were. “We’re good friends. How about you? ‘got time for dating these days, Wade?”
“But you laughed,” he pointed out before shoving the whole thing into his own mouth. At the mention of the suit, he gave Rick an once over with a disgusted look. “I figured I wouldn’t be as incognito in my bootylicious J.Lo dress and red is my color, so really, you jacked my style, bro.” He glanced over to the woman Rick occasionally seemed scared of. “Is that your woman?”
“I did..” Rick confessed, taking a more cheerful sip from his glass while patting down Wade’s collar to combat the merc’s detestable glare. “sophomoric as it was.” The squad could act juvenile in their own way, but Rick hadn’t know them before taking on the leadership position, there was no room to joke with someone who didn’t earn your trust first. Not in Flag’s line of work. “’here I thought you’d dig being my twin for the night. You’ll never get me in a matching floral shirt, after all.” When Wade mentioned Yamashiro, Rick flashed him a well practiced ‘bitch, please’ face, “That is my lieutenant.”
“Hehe, look at this,” he told the person next to him, holding a pig in the blanket. With a big grin he pushed the piggie in and out the blankie. He couldn’t be the only perv at this party.
Jaw locked in a usual scowl as the Colonel gazed out toward the crowd Rick stood at Tatsu’s side with a glass of scotch to keep him company. The balance shifted at the soles of his feet once an unidentified object was stuck up to his eye level. Before registering Wade was behind the gag, Flag nearly withdrew his sidearm from its holster, fortunately the mans voice reached Rick before the rest. A quiet snort left Richard, in a surprised way, bubbles rising to his chest from nerves, “You’re fucking stupid.” Rick shook his head, though the relieved smile did not vanish–not till Tatsu threatened Rick silently with a cold, judgey, glace over her shoulder. Richard cleared his throat, tucked the hand at his Glock 17′s handle away in his trouser pocket while taking a glance over his old friend. “Uh.. nice suit. Was I your inspiration?”
Of course Wade noticed the way Rick looked after he revealed his face. While he’d never admit it, he always noticed, and on bad days - it was all he could see when he shut his eyes. The horror, the disgust, the confusion. But now it was a buddy of his that sported the look on his face and it fucking hurt. At Rick’s second question Wade started chuckling for a few seconds. “Technically cancer wasn’t the worst to happen to me. It’s like a serious of unfortunate events, but instead of a creepy uncle trying to rip me off, I got experimented on and set on fire by a guy named after a cleansing brand. But the good news is.. I’m indestructible.” At Rick’s statement he let out another chuckle. “That would be the bad news of it all. D’ya think I’m going out there looking like this? Deadpool’s like my alias now.” At Rick’s question Wade had to think for a hot second. Why was he here? “So, long story short, I’m pretty sure I killed the guy who turned me into this and now I’m stuck looking like an 80 year old. I thought, with every asshole and hero coming to Gotham, someone’s bound to go here that can make me pretty again. Heard you were in town as well, and here we are.”
Rick couldn’t begin to understand half the words coming out of Wade’s mouth, but supposed it was probably better that way. Whatever transpired was clearly horrific. He wouldn’t ask details only allow Wilson to share at his leisure. “… Well no IED would have turned you indestructible.” Rick shook his head, solemn. “Seeing you in this shape… I assumed you went down like so many others, I’m sorry…” He could look past the physical affects, what stunned Richard most was that this was a friend… someone he didn’t plan to see ever again. Someone he didn’t want to find hurt.
Finally, the explanations started to make sense, but Rick still tracked down his office chair to settle down in. There was a lot to take in. Unlocking a drawer in his desk a whiskey bottle was placed onto the table with a glass he filled with a few ounces before knocking it back. As the story began to close Rick’s eyes did turn a sideways glance in Wade’s direction till he got the clue to politely remove a second glass for the mercenary. “I don’t know of such doctors…” Rick admitted, wiping his nose, and leaning to the side on his left elbow while they spoke. “I know of Billionaires. Super humans. Psychos. Politicians. Then… people like us, of course.”
The first smile appeared on Rick’s lips and he filled up both their cups. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, Wade.” He mentioned, gesturing slightly to the Hooter’s platter. “… Welcome back.” To Gotham City? To Rick Flag’s shitty little world? Definitely the latter.
Wade’s mouth dropped open at his question, it wasn’t a question he hadn’t heard before, but sometimes he had a hard time figuring out whether to go the serious route or to jump in with something sarcastic. “First things first,” he mumbled - I’m the realest - as he took off his mask completely. Exposing the full nine yards of ballsacky avocado to his former friend. “I decided that being this beautiful wasn’t worth it anymore. You know, people would walk into random people on the street while gawking at me, I just had to do something about it..” he shrugged, the bullshit being obvious in his story. He readjusted his stance, voice getting more serious as he spoke again, this time telling the truth. “To quote my favorite love story, The Fault in Our Stars, ‘I lit up like a Christmas tree’.. Cancer.”
The reveal left Rick stunned, pale, it wasn’t the sort of expression he usually wore. Not even around Croc. A stiff, soft, exhale left his lips while he took in the sight. There was no denying, this was Wade Wilson–and he seemed right as rain. Like Flag had left him. Another breath, “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Of course, the question was rhetorical. A small chuckle slipped through despite Richard’s shock, nerves more than genuine humor. Rick could tell the truth was about to come out when Wade stood taller before him. Cancer. The Colonel took the word in as he had with Wilson’s appearance before shaking his head, “What the hell kind of cancer does that.” There was no reason not to believe Wilson. “Christ…” Right hand sweeping over his blond hair, Rick centered himself with a huff, and one of his quirky–thoughtful–nods. “You uh… you have looked better.” It was a weak attempt at a joke. Rick wasn’t so ready to fall right into step. “Is this… what merc’s wear these days–or Deadpool, right.” Still didn’t make a lick of sense. It didn’t matter, not really, but Flag was about to give the man far too many questions than he could possibly answer all at once. “Why are you here?”
When Rick let down the gun, Wade let out a quick “there you go” in between bites. At least now he knew for sure he didn’t have to sew the holes in his suit shut again. As he noticed the other was looking at his lips, Wade’s eyes widened for a second – he wasn’t gonna kiss him, right? Although, who could resist. honestly? At his surname Wade opened his arms wide, as if he was ready to hug the other any second now. “The one and only.” Now that Rick knew, he pushed the box of chicken towards him. “Get your fill of that, they’re not gonna suck themselves,” he chuckled at his own remark. If only he knew.
Despite Wade’s cheerful almost indifferent reaction toward Rick’s realization the soldier was having a slight out of body experience. Naturally, the warriors had parted ways, Flag was accustomed to losing friends–but from what he’d seen of the man beneath the suit… Wade had been injured. Had he been harmed by an IED overseas or through a more personal method? Needless to say, however stunned, Flag took that one last step of trust and tucked his pistol away in the holster attached to his belt. He stepped forward, still hesitant, but that was simply a sign of Rick recollecting himself as he considered what to say. “Where the hell have you been?” The soldier attempted to ask casually, but the emotion slipped through anyway. With a quirked brow towards the strange taunt he did begin to take a better look over the food Wilson brought to share.
Wade bowed his head to the other at the ‘compliment’ he made. “You don’t have to look so ugly while saying it, sticky Ricky, but you may call me sir Los Dead Poolos, or Deadpool works as well.” He loved to watch Rick squirm, really. His voice hadn’t changed that much, had it? Was it the mask? He thought he took care of that issue, but just coming clean and telling him that ‘i’m your friend, your pal, your buck– wade.’ was just too darn easy. At Rick’s question Wade let out a loud laugh. “Did Kevin Spacey pay me for this? It would be toxic otherwise, but nah, just me,” he told the other before lifting his mask up until his nose before he started eating from a chicken wing. “I got these from Hooters, your favorite.. Unfortunately Tiffany wouldn’t come along, something about disliking the way I treat her last time. I told her.. I thought it was a fly on her face. Who the heck has moles that size?”
“Deadpool’s” commentary on the Colonel’s judgey expression only caused his grimace to deepen. Rick wasn’t sure what to believe or take seriously. Was this guy truly impervious to bullets? Hah. Rick would be happy to test that theory. Somehow, the very idea of following through with such an action left Flag thinking a move like that would bore this Deadpool. It was one of the most outlandish and peculiar thoughts to ever cross the humans mind. With a single flinch Rick lowered his gun down to his waist, but didn’t tuck it away. He’d noticed the weapons attached to the mans back, had known of other combatants who wore them; they weren’t standard Marine Corp weaponry. Something else entirely. If Deadpool knew how to use them Rick would be smart to not drop his offense so easily.
The skin between Flag’s brows crinkled more at the remark. How would a guy in a red suit, or anyone around here, know about–He took a closer look at the gaping pores, burns, of the daredevils bare face. They could be veteran with such injuries, easily, but slowly the voice, shape of Deadpool’s lips, itched at the back of the soldiers mind. “… Wilson?” Rick’s brows remained furrowed but his eyes were wide open.
