|Wade Wilson (mercenary_wade) wrote in athinblackline,|
@ 2009-07-12 13:13:00
|Entry tags:||deadpool, redel|
Who: Wade Wilson, Abigail Redel
What: Deadpool turns from killer to hero.
When: (Backdated) Friday, after the destruction of the blocks.
Where: Blue Block, medical ward
After Wade had made the phone call to Abigail he set down the receiver with a long sigh. It wasn’t long until he was relocated to red cell block, where he knew that the mutants in there wouldn’t be happy with his presence. The cells were bigger, large enough to accommodate his own private shower, something he liked very much. He set his shoes half under the bed with a sigh, deciding he’d better make a name for himself and go help out; the word had spread fast, he thought as he left his cell and headed for his former blue block. Violet was there, and he needed to know for his own sake of mind that she was alright.
He’d already heard his only friend at Revolve had been killed, and he was broken up about it. He didn’t understand why everyone he managed to let himself care about was taken away from him. Was he destined to be alone for the rest of his life? He had Abigail, but that was on a professional level; she could replace him anytime or one day decide Revolve wasn’t for her anymore and never come back. His chest tightened at the thought, but he blamed the dust from the debris that lingered in the air.
He just wanted to be happy, and he decided he wouldn’t find any kind of happiness anywhere on this island, and he’d go back to having nothing but his mutation; not even his swords. His shoulders are slumped with his posture as he walked, head down, eyes stuck to the ground for the most part; this is what made a serial killer. Isolation, heartbreak, not being able to find someone who actually appreciated and cared about him. Great. He was going to be a murderer on this island for the rest of his life. He couldn’t wait.
He only brought his miserable head up long enough so that dark eyes could scan the rubble and the chaos that surrounded it; he only saw Abigail because he could see those ribbons; the ones that wrapped him up and held him, almost cradled him that one night when he’d first arrived. That was when he saw Abigail, bloodied and covered in dirt and dust, and his heart leapt into his throat.
From onlookers, Wade could have practically been a blur in vision; one minute he was still and the next minute he was kneeling at Abigail’s side. She was holding the Blackberry he’d called only twenty minutes ago. He didn’t know where to start. Was this all her blood? Others? Did she have internal injuries that made it unsafe for him to move her? Broken bones? He was panicked.
“Holy shit, Abby…” He managed to murmur, moving her hair from her face and looking her over for a moment. “I’m going to lift you, I’m going to take you to medical… tell me where it hurts… I don’t want to make it worse.” If he lost Abigail, he was going to hang himself, he decided then. No coming back from strangulation.