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Alright. It's been weeks. Point made, [WHATEVER THE POINT OF THIS IS] just, would'ja just answer once? Just once and I'll leave ya alone for however the fuck long you want. That's all I'm askin'. C'mon, c'mon...
[Yeah no he can talk at the phone all he wants, ain't making no difference.]
Jesus...
[Yeah no he can talk at the phone all he wants, ain't making no difference.]
Jesus...
[Should Wade test his luck and try that old, familiar face back in the phone, he'll get this message-- the voice is garbled by heavy static, but it's altogether clear who's trying to reach him.]
Oh, thank God. I don't ha-- [ksssh] --ime.
I know you and me didn't-- [hissing static persists for several moments.] --oesn't matter. But when we disappear, we don't-- [fzzzt]
No more-- [ksssh] --s; too damn many! I know they're around, so please hurry: tell K-Scie--
[he's unintelligible for a while longer, and concludes, swearing.] Fuck, they found--
[the feed cuts abruptly.]
Oh, thank God. I don't ha-- [ksssh] --ime.
I know you and me didn't-- [hissing static persists for several moments.] --oesn't matter. But when we disappear, we don't-- [fzzzt]
No more-- [ksssh] --s; too damn many! I know they're around, so please hurry: tell K-Scie--
[he's unintelligible for a while longer, and concludes, swearing.] Fuck, they found--
[the feed cuts abruptly.]
[To be honest, Wade isn't sure why he even tried. He knew it was a lost cause even before he took the phone out. But ever since he saw the faces on his call list, he'd kept them firmly in the back of his mind.
And he'd wondered.
It was a dangerous past-time for a mercenary, to wonder. It wasn't very profitable, either-- he'd learned very early on only to concern himself with when, sometimes where, always how much. Never why or what if.
And yet. And yet.
Seeing them walking around as if they'd never left was heartrending enough even without knowing that they weren't real. Wade avoids them entirely now-- that one stint with Petros was enough. If he somehow passed through Abel or Al or Caterina as if they were nothing but air....
And yet. Their presence in his phone continues to nag at him; Travis's stupid fucking face grins out at him, as if to mock him. Before he even realizes he's going to do it, Wade taps the picture almost angrily. The phone rings once, twice, three times-- just enough for him to stop breathing; just enough for him to feel a small absurd sense of hope. Then the phone cuts out into static, and that small flicker of hope gutters and dies. Typical. He should've known.
He needs a drink. Badly. What remained of the stash Zee had so generously given him had been cleaned out of the apartment, but Wade knew for a fact that there was at least one spot nobody had checked-- one of the floorboards under his bed had come loose in the flood, perfect for a hiding spot. Still clutching the phone in his hand, Wade bends down to pull it up, already tasting that rich, sweet ambrosia that would make him forget everything, even that stupid useless feeling of hope--
And then Travis's voice sounds clear as a bell from Wade's phone.
Startled, Wade jerks his head up, banging it a damn good one on the underside of the bed.] T-Trav...? [His voice is soft, almost a whisper; disbelieving. He listens in rapt attention, growling in frustration and shaking the phone as Travis's message comes out barely comprehensible amidst all the static. And then his last statement sounds out in near-total clarity, just before the feed cuts off, and Wade feels his insides grow cold.]
Trav? Travis? No, no no no don't do this! Talk to me, man! What's going on? What do I tell K-Sci?! TRAVIS!
[It's no use. There's only silence. The seconds seem to stretch into eons as Wade sits there, gripping his phone so tightly that the leather of his gloves creak in protest. His heart lurches in his chest-- an intense, stabbing pain, and yet surprisingly he does not cry. He does not give into the despair that is lurking in the recesses of his mind even now. Every nerve in his body miraculously feels alert; electrified. It hurts, but ironically he's never felt more alive; more himself.
Wade's fingers are shaking as he dials Newt's number.]
And he'd wondered.
It was a dangerous past-time for a mercenary, to wonder. It wasn't very profitable, either-- he'd learned very early on only to concern himself with when, sometimes where, always how much. Never why or what if.
And yet. And yet.
Seeing them walking around as if they'd never left was heartrending enough even without knowing that they weren't real. Wade avoids them entirely now-- that one stint with Petros was enough. If he somehow passed through Abel or Al or Caterina as if they were nothing but air....
And yet. Their presence in his phone continues to nag at him; Travis's stupid fucking face grins out at him, as if to mock him. Before he even realizes he's going to do it, Wade taps the picture almost angrily. The phone rings once, twice, three times-- just enough for him to stop breathing; just enough for him to feel a small absurd sense of hope. Then the phone cuts out into static, and that small flicker of hope gutters and dies. Typical. He should've known.
He needs a drink. Badly. What remained of the stash Zee had so generously given him had been cleaned out of the apartment, but Wade knew for a fact that there was at least one spot nobody had checked-- one of the floorboards under his bed had come loose in the flood, perfect for a hiding spot. Still clutching the phone in his hand, Wade bends down to pull it up, already tasting that rich, sweet ambrosia that would make him forget everything, even that stupid useless feeling of hope--
And then Travis's voice sounds clear as a bell from Wade's phone.
Startled, Wade jerks his head up, banging it a damn good one on the underside of the bed.] T-Trav...? [His voice is soft, almost a whisper; disbelieving. He listens in rapt attention, growling in frustration and shaking the phone as Travis's message comes out barely comprehensible amidst all the static. And then his last statement sounds out in near-total clarity, just before the feed cuts off, and Wade feels his insides grow cold.]
Trav? Travis? No, no no no don't do this! Talk to me, man! What's going on? What do I tell K-Sci?! TRAVIS!
[It's no use. There's only silence. The seconds seem to stretch into eons as Wade sits there, gripping his phone so tightly that the leather of his gloves creak in protest. His heart lurches in his chest-- an intense, stabbing pain, and yet surprisingly he does not cry. He does not give into the despair that is lurking in the recesses of his mind even now. Every nerve in his body miraculously feels alert; electrified. It hurts, but ironically he's never felt more alive; more himself.
Wade's fingers are shaking as he dials Newt's number.]
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