[Dreams of the Waking Man: Seventh Nightmare] Aftermath
takin' care of business.
warnings: Earth-339. a little slash. sci-fi. world-go-boom. language: pg-13 (for s*** and g**damn).
pairing: Nate/Wade, with some vague background Laura/Julian.
timeline: 2019, starting about an hour after the Big One.
disclaimer: i doesn't owns the movies, comics, or characters. or the assorted objects of pop culture reference.
notes: 1) as has been mentioned a few times by now, Earth-339's Hope is an empath. 2) Johnny and Carol checked in on Agency X in Missing in Action. 3) "playing possum" = "playing dead." 4) the Avenger was the carrier stationed at Central Park. since Johnny 'n Carol were off looking for Jimmy and Hank, they weren't around to see (or stop) the somewhat bloody path Daken clawed through the crowd in I Feel Fine.
Aftermath
After some wandering, Wade finds an unobtrusive little service closet that is completely dark when the door shuts. He sits in the blackness and clutches Eight-ball so hard he hears his knuckles creak.
“Damn you,” he hisses at it. “Goddamn you, you evil piece of shit.”
He’s still there an hour later, when the door slides open and admits a whip-thin figure before shutting again.
She settles against the door, and he can smell tears and ash and bubblegum-scented bubble bath (her favorite for seven years, since she discovered baths).
“Well, you’ve found me,” he says, and can’t quite bring himself to feign cheer. “Your turn to hide.”
“Everybody’s looking for you,” she whispers.
“Dunno why; I told them where I’d be.”
“The darkest place on the ship.”
“Mm-hm.”
“You’re in charge now, you know.”
“Yeah, funny how people start putting you in charge when they want to be able to blame you for things. Go tell them I’ll be out in a week or so.”
Bony hands reach out in the gloom, brush against his knuckles. “Daddy? I’m sorry I spazzed on you like a total bitch. I said some awful things.” She laughs a little. “I used to talk so much about how horrible Nathan was to you, and I’ve gone and done the same thing. You should have moved in sooner-I was clearly under his sway for far too long.”
He takes her slender fingers in his. “That’s okay. I’m used to screwing things up and getting yelled at by the people I love.”
“Oh, Daddy…” She scoots over to him, cuddles up against his side. “When I was nine, I promised myself I would never be one of those people who did that…that I would never treat you like-like a disobedient pet, the way Nathan and Neena and Terry always did before we fixed your brain. But somewhere along the way, growing up and getting my powers and trying to figure everything out, I forgot what Emma always said about the important thing being that you tried.”
He gives her a half-hug. “Don’t sweat it too much, princess. The last couple days have been enough to make anybody go back on promises.”
“But not you,” she persists. “Once, when I was little, you promised that you’d never let anybody hurt me. And you never have. You even dragged me away against my will to keep that promise.”
Wade smiles at that, fluffs her hair. “Well, that’s not your fault. It’s your powers. Your feelings get to other people just as much as theirs get to you.”
“Then you should know that I didn’t mean any of those terrible things I said. And that you’re the best father a girl could ever want. And that you’re still my favorite person in the whole world.”
He does know, but it’s still nice to hear. Fondly, he presses a kiss to her brow. “Thanks, precious. Makes me feel a lot better, after all the crap of people putting me in charge of stuff. I know it can’t be easy on you, either, with Nate always breathin’ down your neck with babble about you being destined to save the world.”
“Oh, to hell with Nathan and his ‘you’re going to be the savior of mutantkind’ bullshit,” she huffs, and leans on him.
He can feel the prickle of her irritation getting to him, making him annoyed as well, but he wrangles his feelings back under control. “Watch that language, little lady.”
Hope bursts into laughter, and the weight of her emotions lifts away from him. “Daddy, you cuss enough for the whole house. You’re worse than Logan.”
“Logan doesn’t have much of an imagination. And if I cuss enough for the whole house, that’s all the more reason for you not to have to cuss at all.”
“Fair enough,” she giggles, and suddenly sobers. “They put Nathan in charge of a ship.”
“I know.”
“He’s awful at being in charge of things, you know he is. He has all sorts of ridiculous ideas about how to run things. I can’t imagine how he’ll do with thousands of refugees.”
“He did okay with thousands of intellectuals and hippies, before you were born.”
She snorts. “I’m glad they’ve made you leader. I know you didn’t want it, but you’ll be good at it. All these other people are ridiculous. It’s like you’re the only sane person here besides Clint and Kate.”
The vote of confidence makes him feel much better about the whole mess. Her mutant powers at work again, no doubt…when Hope tells you that you can do something, you can’t help but know that she’s right. “What’d he name his boat?”
“Clint? He called her Mockingbird, after his wife.”
“Nah, Nate.”
He feels her lean away and look at him. “Greymalkin, like the street where we li-used to live. Somebody said that was the name of his old ship. They’ve already got people on scaffolds, painting the new names on the ships. It’s all very pretty and official. I get the feeling that most things Mr. Stark is in charge of end up that way. They made him ‘commander-general,’ which is supposed to be something just below you on the chain of command. Everybody else picked boring names…Progress and Haven and Sanctuary…” Her tone makes him think that she’s rolling her eyes. “At least Avenger makes sense, since it’s Mr. Stark’s carrier.”
“Should you be in here with me, hiding?” he asks. “Shouldn’t you be out ordering people around? You’re the symbol of our happy little sovereign nation, now. Our figurehead. We’ll tie you up on the front of the ship and everything.”
She giggles again, and smacks him lightly on the arm. “I told you: everyone’s looking for you. They want you to state our independence on a broadcast. Mr. Stark says it doesn’t have to be anything big; just step in front of the camera, say your name, say that the fleet is its own country and will welcome any refugees…you know, make a Nathan Speech.”
“I don’t have a big enough ego to make a Nate Speech. ‘Hello, governments of the world, I’m Nathan Dayspring Et Cetera, Pompous Mutant Super-Jesus From the Future, and I’ve come to force peace on you all.’ Nah, I don’t have the face for a speech like that. Go get Laura, tell her to make her husband do it; he’s got that rakish Clark Kent look going for him these days.”
She snickers and tugs at him. “Come on. We have to be grown-ups about this. Nobody else will, except maybe Colonel Fury. Grandpa’s making that stern face that Emma always says means he’ll be useless for anything but being grumpy.”
“His Logan impression.”
She tugs again, more insistently, standing and trying to use her weight to lever him up. “Come on, Daddy. You can even wear your mask.”
Something occurs to him, and he stands up. “Hope, have you seen any of the guys?”
“Huh?” She sounds puzzled. “‘The guys’ as in Josh and Julian and Cessily? Or ‘the guys’ as in Agency X?”
“Agency X. I know they got the broadcast, and Jimmy said he’d go check.”
Her desolation hits him, makes the room feel suddenly chilly.
“Nobody can find Jimmy,” she whispers. “Mr. Rogers said he sent Johnny and Carol to look for him-they called in and said the office was locked up, but Jimmy’s still missing. We haven’t…nobody’s really done a census of the carriers yet, and there’s so many people…Bob ‘n Sandi ‘n Inez will turn up. I know they will.”
“You’re right, princess,” he sighs, and pats her on the head. “Time to face the music. I think I’ve got a good Nate Speech ready now.”
She opens the door and leads him out. A few twists and turns of corridors see them back at the command center.
Everyone looks at him, and all conversations stop.
The same batch as earlier, plus Nate and some other semi-important do-gooder types (like Clint Barton’s Weenie Avengers; Wade’s grateful they gave up saving San Francisco from sea serpents in order to help out, but they’re still a batch of feebs).
Feeling self-conscious, Wade grabs his mask from a pocket in his coat and yanks it on.
Hope squeezes his hand and steps forward. “You all appointed my father Supreme Commander. I think you chose well. He’s not likely to go out and start a war over semantics and stubbornness. And he’s not likely to try to convince the world to change. He taught me that you can’t change people-they have to change themselves, and they have to want to. I can’t think of a better person to put in command.”
“Okay,” Stark says generously, waving a hand. “What’s the first step, Supreme Commander?”
Wade fidgets with Eight-ball in his pocket. “Aside from getting back to Utopia? First on the agenda is finding me the people I need. Figure out where Irene got to. And Weasel. And if anybody knows where those Dark Avenger creeps disappeared to, Logan’s kid can go stuff it, but I need his boyfriend to help me come up with psychotic evil plots to conquer the world.”
Silence, with a tone of disbelief and dismay.
“Kidding on the evil plots part. God, you people have no sense of humor… Step two, the Nate Speech-with a little less condescension.”
Off to one side, Nate starts stammering protests.
“Step three, a full census and any necessary rearrangements. I have this sneaking suspicion people will want off my boat and onto anybody else’s. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Sovereign Nation of Providence. You want off? You know where the door is. There are at least two more nuclear wars ahead of us once this one calms down in a couple years, and a bunch more non-nuclear on top of those within the next couple of centuries, and I may end up being the only one who lives to see them all, but it’d be kinda nice if some of the rest of you at least lived to be old and grey. You can take your chances out there, or you can stick with me and my iffy magic eight-ball.”
Nobody moves.
He looks at them all. “Seriously, people, we got stuff to get done. Priority one, find me Irene Merryweather and Jack Hammer. Stark, cue up the broadcast system again so I can make with the speechifying.”
Like magic, everyone starts to bustle at once, quick discussions and confused conversations and barked orders.
He goes to the holographic setup, where the camera and projector are waiting; Stark gives him a nod.
“Live broadwave when you push the button. At this time of day, it should reach North America, most of western Europe, and parts of northern Africa. We can record and re-broadcast when more satellites come into range.”
So he reaches out and hits the button. “Hello, world,” he says, quelling nervous jitters by clutching at Eight-ball in his coat pocket. “It’s me again-Wade Wilson, for those just joining us. For once, I don’t take any pleasure in saying ‘I told you so.’ I’ve been warning you about today for the past three months; this was the whole point of Project Ark. And this is only the beginning.”
Stark gives him an encouraging thumbs-up.
Wade presses his lips together in a thin frown of determination. “Well, I want no part of it, and neither do the people who’ve chosen to board my fleet. As of this moment, the Helicarrier Fleet that formerly served SHIELD, Stark Enterprises, and the United States government is home to the Sovereign Nation of Providence. Nothing in the policy of Providence has changed since last time. If you want to join us, you can; but we ask that you put aside dumb ideas like murder, war, and terrorism. Anybody who violates the peace of Providence will pay dearly. I’m not cuddly like the last ruler of Providence-Nathan Dayspring gave a lot of warning, and he did cute things like crumpling missiles into modern art. I will give you one warning, and it’ll be shouted at you as you get shoved out the nearest airlock. If you piss me off enough, you won’t get a parachute.”
Back at the table, Nate is making a face somewhere between bemusement and horror.
Wade ignores him. “And if you make the mistake of attacking us, or any of the refugees who’re trying to board or leave us, I’ll wipe you off the face of the planet. Have a nice effing day.” He jabs the button again, and stalks toward Laura, who looks like she has news for him.
“Emma found them,” she says. “They’re aboard Sanctuary. Also, Agency X is accounted for, even Hayden. Jimmy’s with them-said his communicator broke in some embarrassing mishap involving a turkey, a can of dog food, and a jar of peanut butter.”
“So Hayden ate it,” Wade guesses.
“Do you want to send someone to get Irene and Weasel?”
He glances at all the bustle around them. “You or Jules,” he mutters under his breath. “I want someone I can trust on it, and I’m not letting Nate or Hope out of my sight until he’s ready to take over his own ship.”
Laura squeezes his shoulder. “You’re doing great, old man,” she whispers to him. “And if you’re serious about Bullseye, he and his miscreant friends are playing possum on-appropriately enough-the Avenger. If nothing else, it would be a good idea to keep an eye on Venom to make sure he doesn’t eat anyone.”
“Omnivorous alien symbiotes need to eat, too,” he quips. At her look, he shrugs. “Okay, let’s go convince your hubby to fetch Irene ‘n Weas so we can have a chat with Venom about a people-free diet.”
She snorts.
He looks at the swirling chaos of people and experiences a brief moment of panic. “Where’s-”
A lanky arm waves from a knot of helpers from the mansion. “Daddy!” Hope pushes past the St. Croix twins (and Wade can tell them apart, but he still can’t keep straight which one is Nicole and which one is Claudette) and comes over. “Here I am,” she says.
He points at her. “Do not leave this ship. In fact, don’t leave the room if you can help it. I gotta go take care of…something kinda urgent that just came up. Keep Nate outta trouble. Stick with Neena, okay?”
She takes his hand. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll stay close to Nathan and Neena. Go take care of your ‘something kinda urgent.’”
Laura leads him through the ship.
When they find Julian, he’s been recruited into babysitting about a dozen kids while their exhausted parents nap around the edges of the room. He’s got somebody’s pacifier-slurping baby in one arm.
“Unca Wade!” cheers little Juliet, waving with the hand that isn’t clutching Dollpool to her chest.
“Hey, chipmunk,” he replies.
“Where’s Cessily?” Laura asks.
“Bathroom,” her husband answers, using his powers to separate a pair of bickering brats.
“Perfect. When she gets back, you can put her in charge of your little daycare. You’ve got a top-priority mission from the Supreme Commander.”
Julian gives her a confused look. “The who-what-where, L?” he asks distractedly, catching a girl mid-trip and setting her back on her feet.
“The Supreme Commander of the Sovereign Nation of Providence,” Wade supplies helpfully. “Sounds pretty impressive, huh? I liked it. They let me make speeches and everything. Just a matter of time before we move on to baby-kissing and ship-christening.”
Julian laughs. “Good one, Wade. Next you’ll be telling me-” He looks at them. Realization slowly dawns as he redirects an overexuberant crawler with one foot. “W-bu-you can’t be ser-Jesus, Wade. Are they out of their frigging minds?”
“Hey,” Wade pouts.
Jules wipes his free hand down his face. “Look, Wade, I like you. You’re a pretty okay guy, and the twins love you, and you’re not a loony little goody-goody like most of the people from the mansion, and you saved us all from horrible nuclear death. But putting you in charge of a country? I remember a time when you couldn’t reliably be put in charge of tying your shoes.”
“And now my brain is fixed,” Wade says.
Laura shakes her head. “We’ve got a bunch of bleeding hearts and megalomaniacs running this show right now-would you rather not have Wade there to tell them what to do? None of us would even be here, if it weren’t for Wade. You’ve got to make sure Irene and Weasel make it to this ship. Your mission is the mission right now-Wade needs Irene to keep things running, and Weasel is the only techno-geek Wade trusts.”
“Hey, Wade; hey, Laura,” Cessily greets as she enters the room.
“Perfect timing,” Laura says, taking the random kid from Julian and handing it to Cessily. “Take over for a while; we’ve got some top-secret work to do.”
“Oh?” the redhead says, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Good luck, then.”
“Thanks,” Laura calls over her shoulder as she drags her husband out of the room.
“Bubbye again, Mama,” little James says, waving.
“Bye, sweetie.”
When they arrive at the shuttle bay, Julian uses some gentle TK to shrug off his wife’s grip.
“So I’ll be getting Weasel and Irene. Where are you gonna be, that you can’t do this ‘top-priority mission’ yourselves?”
“Making sure Venom knows not to eat people,” Wade replies.
“Bu-wha-no. No way I’m off fetching the secretary and the tech-support while you take my wife to face down that f-”
Laura interrupts him by punching him in the back of the head. “Julian, you’ve been a hero and a father too long. Drop the chivalry-we need you to be a bad boy on a mission. Once upon a time, you would’ve marched off and dragged them back, kicking and screaming, no questions asked.”
“Ow! That’s domestic abuse, y’know,” he says, rubbing the place where she hit him. “And I’m totally getting you back for it when you least expect it. Pow! Right in the kisser. And I would have asked questions.”
“‘Do they have to be conscious’ doesn’t count.”
“Of course it counts.”
“Yeah, yeah, real sweet ‘n lovey-dovey,” Wade says impatiently. “Can we hurry this up?”
Laura grins and beckons a nearby pilot. “Take Hellion to Sanctuary. He’ll be returning with two guests-a skinny guy and a nosy woman.” She points to another one. “You! The Supreme Commander and I need to get to the Avenger.”
.End.
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