He hated hospitals. He hated the smell, he hated the air of death that cloyed in the air, filling lungs. He didn't like being in them, and stepping into the all too white room, with one uncomfortable bed was even worse. He and Deadpool didn't exactly get along all the time, but he was an Avenger in the city. He had fought with them, and he hadn't done too bad of a job on top of that.
Hospitals always reminded him of Happy. He didn't wan to see another friend, another ally die on a hospital bed.
"How're you feeling?" he asked. Rhetorical question, sure, but it was only polite.
He sounded like shit. Tony moved into the room, and closed the door softly behind him, watching Wade for just a moment, before sitting into one of the seats.
"Don't you already know all of them?" he asked. "They're not exactly interesting stories to tell, anyway," he added. Okay, they were interesting stories, but he always felt stupid regaling tales of 'past adventures' to other people. "You think you're going to be able to hold out for long?"
"Either I make it the week, or I die in a minute. Crapshoot. All life ever was."
He raises a weak hand, pointing at him.
"Tell me a Kang story. From back before the mansion blew up and you had to become a dickhole. Back when everybody was palz and nobody killed Black Goliath over paperwork."
Weaz poked his head in the door. His hair was painfully and unconvincingly combed, and he was even wearing a t-shirt that had no swear words on it. Although the gift of a naked woman figurine holding flowers was probably inappropriate but it was the only thing he could think of on short notice.
He put the flowers on a bedside table, and sat down in a convenient plastic uncomfortable chair.
...What was it with hospitals having uncomfortable chairs? You'd think they'd know by now that, hey, visitors need to be able to sit down without having their asses go numb. It's a friggin' hospital, isn't it supposed to be all about making people healthy and happy? If so, why the torturous chairs?
Raven was told to visit him in the hospital rather than show up initially, and that's precisely what she did. As she slipped into the room, she felt a pang of hurt in her chest for him. She was pretty sure it wasn't just pity, but... honestly worrying about him. When had she started caring so much about what happened to this guy? Isn't this the guy who tried to embarrass her on a regular basis, or hit on her blatantly?
Yet here she was, smiling gently at him. "Hello, Wade."
That nearly rips her heart completely out of her chest, and at least makes it ache. She bows her head down for a moment as she crosses the room, and gingerly sits on the edge of the bed.
Xena sighed as she stood outside Deadpool's room in the hospital. It wasn't like she knew him much at all, but she felt compelled to come and spend time with him. Perhaps it was because of all the fallen comrades she hadn't been able to say goodbye to.
She stepped inside, eyeing the gaunt man in the bed.
"Hello, Deadpool."
She'd even worn the armor and brought the spinny death frisbee.
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Hospitals always reminded him of Happy. He didn't wan to see another friend, another ally die on a hospital bed.
"How're you feeling?" he asked. Rhetorical question, sure, but it was only polite.
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The response is weak, soft and labored, so utterly opposed to what Wade normally is.
"Got any cool Avenger stories to tell me to pass the time?"
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"Don't you already know all of them?" he asked. "They're not exactly interesting stories to tell, anyway," he added. Okay, they were interesting stories, but he always felt stupid regaling tales of 'past adventures' to other people. "You think you're going to be able to hold out for long?"
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He raises a weak hand, pointing at him.
"Tell me a Kang story. From back before the mansion blew up and you had to become a dickhole. Back when everybody was palz and nobody killed Black Goliath over paperwork."
"never got ta have my own hero stories..."
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He put the flowers on a bedside table, and sat down in a convenient plastic uncomfortable chair.
...What was it with hospitals having uncomfortable chairs? You'd think they'd know by now that, hey, visitors need to be able to sit down without having their asses go numb. It's a friggin' hospital, isn't it supposed to be all about making people healthy and happy? If so, why the torturous chairs?
"Hey, man. You look like shit."
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"Thought I looked more like snot."
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He slouches against the wall instead of sitting in the uncomfortable chair, hands in his pockets.
"So. If you die, do I get my guns back?"
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Yet here she was, smiling gently at him.
"Hello, Wade."
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"Hey... magic chick... got a card trick or somethin'?"
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"I'm afraid not, I only brought myself."
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"... I owe you money?"
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She stepped inside, eyeing the gaunt man in the bed.
"Hello, Deadpool."
She'd even worn the armor and brought the spinny death frisbee.
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"Hey, Zeen Zeen... fancy meetin' you here..."
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