Heyyy, what's happenin'? You've reached the voicemail of one very fine-lookin' man. Wanna chat? Fanboy all over my mad skillz? Declare your undying love for me? You know what to do. [BEEEEP]
[Wade doesn't jump at ghosts, but he still finds it somewhat unsettling every time he's reminded that there's no body occupying that suit of armor. Unsettling enough to send a chill down his spine, anyway. He eyes the symbol with interest, though, having never seen it before.]
[It's impossible for Al's expression to change, especially with his head effectively under his arm at the moment, but the subtle shift in posture displays a tension and distress as well as if he had been capable of crying.]
There was something in there. [Someone.] It stopped me moving, paralysed me, and then... it made brother...
[He has to stop. Even the ever optimistic Al can't put a good spin on this.]
He'd changed his automail arm into a blade in case we had to fight, they made him stab right through the seal.
[And Wade can't say anything to that. He's seen how cruel this town can be-- hell, he and Al had borne witness to it when they stormed the hospital all those months ago; it was a sight Wade had never forgotten-- and yet something always manages to surprise him. He lets out his breath in a rush, leans against the kitchen counter without speaking.]
...shit.
[It's pretty much the only thing he can think of to say. Finally he returns his gaze to Al's-- cautiously, as if he's afraid of saying something inappropriate.]
[He puts his helmet back on and shrugs slightly, helpless. There weren't really words adequate to describe how either of them were dealing with it, it was just too surreal.]
I don't think he'd like me talking about it.
[How Ed's doing, not the incident itself. He doubts his brother would want anyone to know how much it had affected him.]
Still. I could've... y'know. Done something. Taken the hit for you. Like in all those action movies where the guy takes a bullet for the hero. Would've stung like a bitch, and I'm pretty sure it still would've freaked the shit outta Ed, but at least he wouldn't have had to see you... y'know.
[He sighs.]
I don't have siblings. Don't have any family members, to be honest. Not anymore. So I really can't understand the whole brotherly bond thing. But I know what it feels like to lose someone. To have someone you care about just up and die in your arms and know that it was all your fault.
[His voice grows rougher, more raw.]
And to be honest, if someone was gonna go down... I'd kinda prefer it was the guy who didn't have any familial ties, y'know? Healing factor or not. Better on everybody's sanity that way, I think.
[There's another silence after this declaration. He suddenly chuckles, an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.]
Besides, it's not like that would've been the end for me or anything. I'm the plucky comic relief-- you can't just kill me off that easily, right?
[Al can't help the exasperation in his tone, though there's fondness there too. This self pity and willingness to draw everything onto his shoulders even when there was no blame to lay, it needed to stop.]
I didn't ask anyone to take a hit for me, and exchanging one life for another isn't a good one at all. Everyone's life has meaning and worth, it doesn't matter if they heal or have family, or... whatever, it still matters if they live or die. And I never ever want anyone to be hurt on my account.
[He pauses, voice growing a bit softer.]
Besides, you do have family ties. You have me, don't you? We're brothers in arms.
[Al's remarks hurt. He can't deny that, though it takes him a few seconds to understand why. It was the first time he could remember openly stating that he would take a hit for someone, and it wasn't out of self-pity or a wish to escape guilt. Not this time, anyway. After all, what was the point of a healing factor if he couldn't put it to use? Wasn't this what good guys did all the time? Willingly put themselves in danger so that other people could be safe?]
Wouldn't have just been for you, y'know.
[Deadpool suddenly stops, hesitant about finishing that thought. He was about to say how it would have been for Ed's benefit as well as Al's, how he wouldn't have wished the killing of one's own younger sibling on anyone, no matter how big the stick up his ass was.
But he doesn't know how to articulate it. He's not good at these kinds of talks, he's starting to realize. Besides, he doesn't want Al to think he's wallowing in self-pity again. A nonchalant laugh forces its way past his lips.]
Never mind, forget it. You're right, I'm just being an idiot. I'm just... sorry it had to happen to you, that's all.
[He understands the sentiment of not wishing that on Ed, and he can fully get behind that. But he knows that Ed would have felt that same devastation if he had been forced to kill anyone, not just Ed, and both of them would have felt guilty if anyone had sacrificed themselves for their sake.]
...Sorry.
[He just realised how ungrateful it sounded.]
It's just that I made a promise to myself, back in Amestris, that I would never let anyone get hurt when I could help it. If you... if anyone got hurt for me, I'd never be able to forgive myself.
Yeah, but... it's not like it'd be your fault. Not like you hurt them yourself or anything, right? I mean, they're pretty much saying they'd be willing to get hurt for your safety. Considering most people's aversion to pain is pretty damn high, isn't that-- I mean, shouldn't you consider that a good thing?
It's a good thing that they care about me that much, I know I'm so lucky to have so many friends. But even if it's not my fault, it's never a good thing for someone to suffer on your behalf. Would you want me to take a shot meant for you?
Well, it's just that... no one's really asked me that before. Not that I can remember, anyway.
Nobody should be taking any hits for me. That's what the healing factor's for. That's why I'm always blindly rushin' in whenever shit goes down. Because sooner or later somebody's gonna develop a martyr complex and decide that they need to protect me. And I don't want any-- I just don't need that, is all.
[I don't want anybody else to die because of me. That's what had almost slipped out of his mouth. He sighs and offers Al a defeated grin-- he doesn't want to think about the past right now.]
I guess the answer to your question is no, then. No, I really wouldn't. But that doesn't mean you wouldn't do it anyway. Right?
[He knows what Deadpool was about to say, and he feels like he's made his point. Of course it's a good thing for someone to want to take a hit for you in theory, but Al would never want it to happen in practise.]
Right, because I know I can't get hurt. Even if you can't die, you still feel pain, I don't.
[There's an underlying sadness to those words, though he doesn't dwell on it.]
[He didn't really want to go into too much detail, not because he didn't trust Wade but because it was personal to Ed who might not like it being broadcast.]
They really know how to hit out at what's going to hurt the most, they must really want to hide whatever is in there.
((Sorry about the wait, I've been on hiatus for the majority of May.))
[He hesitates, almost reluctant to dredge up the past considering the fact that his actions had been... less than stellar. He decides to go for it anyway-- he's pretty sure that right now, being reticent won't win him any brownie points with Al.]
Y'know, that's the thing that's puzzled me the most about this place. How personal everything is. I didn't tell you this beforehand, but when I was in that convenience store last time, it... well, it's pretty obvious that things didn't go well.
But... they got inside my head somehow. Brought out a piece of my past that hardly anyone knows. Scared the living bejeezus outta me, let me tell you. Especially since... well, I don't know if you know this, but that kind of psychic hoodoo usually doesn't work on me. Telepathy, mind control; whatever-- my healing factor just gives my brain a natural immunity to it.
[His voice is steady and controlled, but if Al is perceptive he will be able to see the beginnings of fear and perplexity in Deadpool's eyes.]
So how the hell did they get that information? How do they know so much about us?
[The reply is heavy and full of impotent regret, he wished more than anything that he knew the answer to that. Even if they had somehow observed them for some time before kidnapping them here, that still didn't explain how they knew every detail of their lives.]
It happened with us too, we saw El-- someone in there that we shouldn't have, and it was so real.
[Elissa and the grave of Maes Hughes, his heart hurts just thinking about it.]
They must be able to get past that immunity somehow, it's obvious they know everything about us. It makes it harder for us to fight and easier for them to hurt us, but they can't be infallible. There's got to be things they don't know, and they'll make mistakes sooner or later. We just have to be ready for it.
That's the way to win, isn't it? I saw Kite's face when he was making all those broadcasts before. Killing everyone-- you remember. He was like a little kid, poking at anthills to watch the chaos. Pretty sure it pissed him off when people didn't react to his displays in the way he wanted. They might know a lot about us, but they still can't predict our every reaction. We just have to think of something that they'd never suspect.
[Deadpool sighs. It's hard to think about, but he just has to come to terms with the fact that all their lives-- all their fears and regrets and memories-- are nothing but an open book for the people in charge of this town to rifle through.
He's briefly reminded of when he was kidnapped and hooked up to a machine that proceeded to tear its way through his mental barriers and broadcast his most intimate memories. It's a violation, is what it is. As much now as it was then.
And what about Al? Despite his cheery disposition, he's gone through things that Deadpool can't even imagine. He doesn't understand how the kid can even stay so positive. He reaches out and rests a hand on Al's metal bicep.]
That doesn't mean we should have to put a brave face on all the time, though. You've helped me out a lot since we met and I've been really shitty about doing the same, I know. But if you ever need to... y'know-- talk something out, let out some inner demons or something... my door's always open. Okay?
[It had been Kite being betrayed by one of his fellows that had given Al a little hope there were chinks in the armour; after all, fighting amongst the other side could only bode well for them in the end. If there was discord then it was likely mistakes would get made and pieces of information might fall through the cracks, it was something they would have to take advantage of when the time came.
He was about to reply to that effect when Deadpool suddenly put his hand on Al's arm and gave him that offer. His heart panged affectionately, truly touched at how much his friend was trying to do better and make amends for what happened before.]
I know... thanks. But I'm not putting on a brave face, this is just how I feel. My brother and I have always tried to keep moving forwards, even when we were very little and our Mom died, I guess it's just second nature now.
I don't doubt it. I figure a guy trapped in a giant suit of armor can't do much else but keep moving forward, right? Don't know how I'd manage to stay so chipper if it were me in that thing, but still.
Anyway, my offer still stands. If there's ever a time you just need to unload or whatever, I'll be a captive audience. And, as an added bonus, I won't make fun of you. That's somethin' I only promise to a select few people, though, so don't tell anyone. Got a reputation to maintain, after all.
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Brother drew that with his own blood, it's what ties my soul to this body. If the seal is broken, then my soul... then that's it.
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So... what happened? How'd the seal break?
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There was something in there. [Someone.] It stopped me moving, paralysed me, and then... it made brother...
[He has to stop. Even the ever optimistic Al can't put a good spin on this.]
He'd changed his automail arm into a blade in case we had to fight, they made him stab right through the seal.
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...shit.
[It's pretty much the only thing he can think of to say. Finally he returns his gaze to Al's-- cautiously, as if he's afraid of saying something inappropriate.]
How's he taking it? Your brother, I mean.
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I don't think he'd like me talking about it.
[How Ed's doing, not the incident itself. He doubts his brother would want anyone to know how much it had affected him.]
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[There is a short silence. When Wade speaks again, his voice is low, almost inaudible.]
...I should've been there.
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[They had intentionally taken a small team and Deadpool hadn't been on it, he couldn't start blaming himself for everything that went wrong.]
It happened so fast, nobody could stop it.
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[He sighs.]
I don't have siblings. Don't have any family members, to be honest. Not anymore. So I really can't understand the whole brotherly bond thing. But I know what it feels like to lose someone. To have someone you care about just up and die in your arms and know that it was all your fault.
[His voice grows rougher, more raw.]
And to be honest, if someone was gonna go down... I'd kinda prefer it was the guy who didn't have any familial ties, y'know? Healing factor or not. Better on everybody's sanity that way, I think.
[There's another silence after this declaration. He suddenly chuckles, an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.]
Besides, it's not like that would've been the end for me or anything. I'm the plucky comic relief-- you can't just kill me off that easily, right?
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[Al can't help the exasperation in his tone, though there's fondness there too. This self pity and willingness to draw everything onto his shoulders even when there was no blame to lay, it needed to stop.]
I didn't ask anyone to take a hit for me, and exchanging one life for another isn't a good one at all. Everyone's life has meaning and worth, it doesn't matter if they heal or have family, or... whatever, it still matters if they live or die. And I never ever want anyone to be hurt on my account.
[He pauses, voice growing a bit softer.]
Besides, you do have family ties. You have me, don't you? We're brothers in arms.
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Wouldn't have just been for you, y'know.
[Deadpool suddenly stops, hesitant about finishing that thought. He was about to say how it would have been for Ed's benefit as well as Al's, how he wouldn't have wished the killing of one's own younger sibling on anyone, no matter how big the stick up his ass was.
But he doesn't know how to articulate it. He's not good at these kinds of talks, he's starting to realize. Besides, he doesn't want Al to think he's wallowing in self-pity again. A nonchalant laugh forces its way past his lips.]
Never mind, forget it. You're right, I'm just being an idiot. I'm just... sorry it had to happen to you, that's all.
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...Sorry.
[He just realised how ungrateful it sounded.]
It's just that I made a promise to myself, back in Amestris, that I would never let anyone get hurt when I could help it. If you... if anyone got hurt for me, I'd never be able to forgive myself.
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Yeah, but... it's not like it'd be your fault. Not like you hurt them yourself or anything, right? I mean, they're pretty much saying they'd be willing to get hurt for your safety. Considering most people's aversion to pain is pretty damn high, isn't that-- I mean, shouldn't you consider that a good thing?
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[He has to admit, the question's caught him a bit off-guard. He laughs to hide his surprise.]
That's kind of a moot point, don't you think? I mean, we're both kinda indestructible here.
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[Would Deadpool honestly, truly, think that someone he thought of as a friend voluntarily taking a hit for him would be a good thing?]
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Nobody should be taking any hits for me. That's what the healing factor's for. That's why I'm always blindly rushin' in whenever shit goes down. Because sooner or later somebody's gonna develop a martyr complex and decide that they need to protect me. And I don't want any-- I just don't need that, is all.
[I don't want anybody else to die because of me. That's what had almost slipped out of his mouth. He sighs and offers Al a defeated grin-- he doesn't want to think about the past right now.]
I guess the answer to your question is no, then. No, I really wouldn't. But that doesn't mean you wouldn't do it anyway. Right?
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Right, because I know I can't get hurt. Even if you can't die, you still feel pain, I don't.
[There's an underlying sadness to those words, though he doesn't dwell on it.]
But... I guess we're getting off track, huh?
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Yeah, right. There I go making this about me again. Bad habit. Sorry.
[He clears his throat.]
So. I'm assuming you've talked to Ed about this already? I hope you have-- it'd clear the air at least a little bit.
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[He didn't really want to go into too much detail, not because he didn't trust Wade but because it was personal to Ed who might not like it being broadcast.]
They really know how to hit out at what's going to hurt the most, they must really want to hide whatever is in there.
((Sorry about the wait, I've been on hiatus for the majority of May.))
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[He hesitates, almost reluctant to dredge up the past considering the fact that his actions had been... less than stellar. He decides to go for it anyway-- he's pretty sure that right now, being reticent won't win him any brownie points with Al.]
Y'know, that's the thing that's puzzled me the most about this place. How personal everything is. I didn't tell you this beforehand, but when I was in that convenience store last time, it... well, it's pretty obvious that things didn't go well.
But... they got inside my head somehow. Brought out a piece of my past that hardly anyone knows. Scared the living bejeezus outta me, let me tell you. Especially since... well, I don't know if you know this, but that kind of psychic hoodoo usually doesn't work on me. Telepathy, mind control; whatever-- my healing factor just gives my brain a natural immunity to it.
[His voice is steady and controlled, but if Al is perceptive he will be able to see the beginnings of fear and perplexity in Deadpool's eyes.]
So how the hell did they get that information? How do they know so much about us?
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[The reply is heavy and full of impotent regret, he wished more than anything that he knew the answer to that. Even if they had somehow observed them for some time before kidnapping them here, that still didn't explain how they knew every detail of their lives.]
It happened with us too, we saw El-- someone in there that we shouldn't have, and it was so real.
[Elissa and the grave of Maes Hughes, his heart hurts just thinking about it.]
They must be able to get past that immunity somehow, it's obvious they know everything about us. It makes it harder for us to fight and easier for them to hurt us, but they can't be infallible. There's got to be things they don't know, and they'll make mistakes sooner or later. We just have to be ready for it.
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[Deadpool sighs. It's hard to think about, but he just has to come to terms with the fact that all their lives-- all their fears and regrets and memories-- are nothing but an open book for the people in charge of this town to rifle through.
He's briefly reminded of when he was kidnapped and hooked up to a machine that proceeded to tear its way through his mental barriers and broadcast his most intimate memories. It's a violation, is what it is. As much now as it was then.
And what about Al? Despite his cheery disposition, he's gone through things that Deadpool can't even imagine. He doesn't understand how the kid can even stay so positive. He reaches out and rests a hand on Al's metal bicep.]
That doesn't mean we should have to put a brave face on all the time, though. You've helped me out a lot since we met and I've been really shitty about doing the same, I know. But if you ever need to... y'know-- talk something out, let out some inner demons or something... my door's always open. Okay?
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He was about to reply to that effect when Deadpool suddenly put his hand on Al's arm and gave him that offer. His heart panged affectionately, truly touched at how much his friend was trying to do better and make amends for what happened before.]
I know... thanks. But I'm not putting on a brave face, this is just how I feel. My brother and I have always tried to keep moving forwards, even when we were very little and our Mom died, I guess it's just second nature now.
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I don't doubt it. I figure a guy trapped in a giant suit of armor can't do much else but keep moving forward, right? Don't know how I'd manage to stay so chipper if it were me in that thing, but still.
Anyway, my offer still stands. If there's ever a time you just need to unload or whatever, I'll be a captive audience. And, as an added bonus, I won't make fun of you. That's somethin' I only promise to a select few people, though, so don't tell anyone. Got a reputation to maintain, after all.
[A wink shows Al that he's joking.]
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[He chuckles and mock crosses over his heart, already he's feeling better from bantering with Deadpool. More normal.]
Thanks, I really needed this.
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