The Apartment Above Wellspring Arms, Sunday Morning
Nathan was having breakfast when it happened.
Wade had jumped up on the seat and stolen a few strips of bacon -- he'd taken to making more just because he knew that would happen -- and then paused, blinking at him owlishly.
The next minute, they were both assaulted with image and sound, and things were confusing for a little while.
Cable had been running for quite some time now. Across mountains, seas, cities and wastelands. He didn't know what tired was, and he had no particular interest in finding out. The little girl in his arms was smiling up at him, but her eyes looked worried. And old. "Don't worry," he said, looking warily up at the torched forest up ahead, "We've been through hotter fires."
"Dunno," Jan mumbled, "'s smelling pretty bad."
Ahead of them, along what used to be a treeline, a man came tearing out of the smoldering remains of the forest like the hounds of hell were chasing him. He looked back for only a moment before falling forward quite suddenly. If you had good eyes, you might see the glint of a very long blade sticking out of his thigh as he tried to desperately crawl forward.
Jan hesitated. She wanted to run to him, but dad's hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Dad?" she asked, tentatively.
Cable wasn't looking at the man. He was looking up towards the trees. "Careful," he said. And only then, he began to walk, unclipping his gun from his thigh. He passed by the man (or just his body?), casting him a single sideways look. "Might want to start following your nose after all," he told Jan.
She nodded, fidgeting with the tiny gun she carried on her own hip.
Dragging his other sword behind him and humming a song that stopped holding any meaning when the world went right on down the shitter, a man walked through the embers to finish off his prey. Mouse, cat, you get the picture.
He didn't so much as acknowledge the very tall and--metaly?--man's presence as he whistled the song now. The poor old thing was moving again. You'd think a sword through the leg would stop that, but he had spirit. Deadpool liked that.
One of Nathan's big hands came down to shield Jan instinctively. He didn't step back-- instead, there was a click as the safety went off the gun. So far, there had been no reaction in their direction, but that could change with ease.
"...dad?" the girl asked, warily.
"Don't."
Oh, could it ever.
Hopping on onto the man's back-- "Please! Please don't kill me! I have a family!" --Deadpool pulled the other blade on out of the meat of the man's thigh. Tsk. All dirty.
He shook it a few times to knock the majority of the filth off before stabbing both down in the space just below the collar bone and into the lungs. It made a wet, wheezing noise.
Nathan's hand skimmed up towards Jan's eyes. Not that she hadn't seen this kind of cruelty before, but... he started to pace, sideways, so that he wouldn't have to take his eyes off of the murderer in question. His gun came up halfway.
There was something damn familiar about the way he handled that sword.
"Shhh," Deadpool said soothingly, petting the back of the man's head. "It'll all be over soon and you can see that purdy lil' family of yours. I'll make sure they come right along."
He had to keep busy, after all.
--The voice made everything snap into sharp focus. "You," Cable said, one single damn syllable. Jan's big green eyes blinked up at him; he'd dropped his hand.
Deadpool looked up sharply, not quite registering exactly who was talking to him. Just that he was being talked at. Huh. Mostly it was more of a begging tone he got. "Me?"
He yanked the swords out, causing the man beneath him to scream one last time.
"Deadpool," Cable supplied. His gun had come up next, its crosshairs firmly set on Deadpool's head. Or what would be left of it, should he choose to pull the trigger. There were risks he couldn't take, and there was one girl-shaped reason why, clinging to his thigh.
He stabbed down again into meat, frowning and trying to place the man. "Is this gonna be a testosterone thing?" Now why on earth was he asking that?
"I'd rather it doesn't."
His gun lowered an inch. Nothing more. Wade. Askani preserve him.
Huh. Nope, nothing was coming to him. Deadpool scratched the side of his head with the handle of his sword. "Okie-dokie."
And darted forward to kill him and that doe-eyed little brat.
Many years into his past, many years into another world's future, Cable'd shoot his son because he had to.
Years later, there wasn't a single scrap of hesitation as he swung the gun back up and fired several rounds into his old friend's skull, the gun flaring with a deadly light-- much like his eye.
Which would really only put Deadpool down for a little while as the bone and flesh and brain matter all started the labourous process of reknitting itself into something like a head again.
He might have twitched a few times.
Nathan looked at him. The expression on his face did not twitch; it simply pulled a little bit, just around the eyes. That was all the recognition he could offer, though-- he fired another bullet into Wade's reknitting brain, his kneecaps, his arms, then grabbed Jan by the hand.
"We can't stay here."
"Dad?"
"He'll be back up in ten minutes, tops," he replied, scooped her up, and ran again.
Nathan blinked. Then he rubbed his eyelids, and muttered something under his breath. He looked up at the dingo again.
"More bacon?"
[ and our contribution to IAWL weekend. co-written with mouthy_merc and ooc-okay, la ]
Wade had jumped up on the seat and stolen a few strips of bacon -- he'd taken to making more just because he knew that would happen -- and then paused, blinking at him owlishly.
The next minute, they were both assaulted with image and sound, and things were confusing for a little while.
Cable had been running for quite some time now. Across mountains, seas, cities and wastelands. He didn't know what tired was, and he had no particular interest in finding out. The little girl in his arms was smiling up at him, but her eyes looked worried. And old. "Don't worry," he said, looking warily up at the torched forest up ahead, "We've been through hotter fires."
"Dunno," Jan mumbled, "'s smelling pretty bad."
Ahead of them, along what used to be a treeline, a man came tearing out of the smoldering remains of the forest like the hounds of hell were chasing him. He looked back for only a moment before falling forward quite suddenly. If you had good eyes, you might see the glint of a very long blade sticking out of his thigh as he tried to desperately crawl forward.
Jan hesitated. She wanted to run to him, but dad's hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Dad?" she asked, tentatively.
Cable wasn't looking at the man. He was looking up towards the trees. "Careful," he said. And only then, he began to walk, unclipping his gun from his thigh. He passed by the man (or just his body?), casting him a single sideways look. "Might want to start following your nose after all," he told Jan.
She nodded, fidgeting with the tiny gun she carried on her own hip.
Dragging his other sword behind him and humming a song that stopped holding any meaning when the world went right on down the shitter, a man walked through the embers to finish off his prey. Mouse, cat, you get the picture.
He didn't so much as acknowledge the very tall and--metaly?--man's presence as he whistled the song now. The poor old thing was moving again. You'd think a sword through the leg would stop that, but he had spirit. Deadpool liked that.
One of Nathan's big hands came down to shield Jan instinctively. He didn't step back-- instead, there was a click as the safety went off the gun. So far, there had been no reaction in their direction, but that could change with ease.
"...dad?" the girl asked, warily.
"Don't."
Oh, could it ever.
Hopping on onto the man's back-- "Please! Please don't kill me! I have a family!" --Deadpool pulled the other blade on out of the meat of the man's thigh. Tsk. All dirty.
He shook it a few times to knock the majority of the filth off before stabbing both down in the space just below the collar bone and into the lungs. It made a wet, wheezing noise.
Nathan's hand skimmed up towards Jan's eyes. Not that she hadn't seen this kind of cruelty before, but... he started to pace, sideways, so that he wouldn't have to take his eyes off of the murderer in question. His gun came up halfway.
There was something damn familiar about the way he handled that sword.
"Shhh," Deadpool said soothingly, petting the back of the man's head. "It'll all be over soon and you can see that purdy lil' family of yours. I'll make sure they come right along."
He had to keep busy, after all.
--The voice made everything snap into sharp focus. "You," Cable said, one single damn syllable. Jan's big green eyes blinked up at him; he'd dropped his hand.
Deadpool looked up sharply, not quite registering exactly who was talking to him. Just that he was being talked at. Huh. Mostly it was more of a begging tone he got. "Me?"
He yanked the swords out, causing the man beneath him to scream one last time.
"Deadpool," Cable supplied. His gun had come up next, its crosshairs firmly set on Deadpool's head. Or what would be left of it, should he choose to pull the trigger. There were risks he couldn't take, and there was one girl-shaped reason why, clinging to his thigh.
He stabbed down again into meat, frowning and trying to place the man. "Is this gonna be a testosterone thing?" Now why on earth was he asking that?
"I'd rather it doesn't."
His gun lowered an inch. Nothing more. Wade. Askani preserve him.
Huh. Nope, nothing was coming to him. Deadpool scratched the side of his head with the handle of his sword. "Okie-dokie."
And darted forward to kill him and that doe-eyed little brat.
Many years into his past, many years into another world's future, Cable'd shoot his son because he had to.
Years later, there wasn't a single scrap of hesitation as he swung the gun back up and fired several rounds into his old friend's skull, the gun flaring with a deadly light-- much like his eye.
Which would really only put Deadpool down for a little while as the bone and flesh and brain matter all started the labourous process of reknitting itself into something like a head again.
He might have twitched a few times.
Nathan looked at him. The expression on his face did not twitch; it simply pulled a little bit, just around the eyes. That was all the recognition he could offer, though-- he fired another bullet into Wade's reknitting brain, his kneecaps, his arms, then grabbed Jan by the hand.
"We can't stay here."
"Dad?"
"He'll be back up in ten minutes, tops," he replied, scooped her up, and ran again.
Nathan blinked. Then he rubbed his eyelids, and muttered something under his breath. He looked up at the dingo again.
"More bacon?"
[ and our contribution to IAWL weekend. co-written with mouthy_merc and ooc-okay, la ]