I heard a loud shot ring out from his bedroom, followed by a moment of silence. Then slurred swearing. This could not be good. Usually the house was filled with loud, distinct swearing and video game sound effects. Not this.
Worried, I dashed down the hallway to his room and threw the door open, cracking it down the middle. What I saw stunned and saddened me. He lay on his back on his bed, a pool of his own blood soaking into the already dark red sheets, spilling from the hole in his skull that was already healing.
"Oh, Wade," I sighed. "Was it the yellow or white box, this time?" He flapped a hand and twirled his pinky finger, the sign that had evolved to mean White. I sat beside him and waited for his skull to fuse shut.
"You're lucky we buy red sheets instead of white, now," I told him. "I don't care if Al gave you that little trick with seltzer water and lemon juice, cotton is too easy to stain."
"Yew're, ril smat," he slurred, his brain still obviously under construction.
"Of course I am," I replied. "I may be the offspring of an insane god, but insanity doesn't equal stupidity. That applies to you as well, even though your stunt with Banner that one time was quite foolish." He sighed, and even through his mask i could tell his eyes had shut, his body language that of a defeated man.
"I canno' die," he sighed, his functionality improving vastly. "No matter 'ow much I may crave it."
"I feel for you, my friend," I stroked his brow bone through his mask. "We're both cursed in this way-longing for release but never to find it." I'd once cut out my own heart, but I grew another one within five hours. Like the Merc with a Mouth, here my regenerative process was super swift. Kinda sucked on the days when I felt suicidal.
You know, at one point, we put a gun in one another's mouth and pulled the trigger. You might think, holy fuck, that's really fucked up. But guess what, cupcake?
We are fucked up.
Sometimes this world is really ugly. Like shit down the drain and into your drinking water because somebody doesn't care enough to fucking filter it-kind of ugly.
And then there's things like the X-Men, the Avengers, academies dedicated solely to the fine arts and the cure for cancer and many other deadly diseases.
To be truthful, we really do live in a beautiful world. Like one of my favorite book characters once said, "Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it."
"True dat," the merc muttered.
"Stop eavesdropping on my internal monologue, Wade," I replied. "Stick to your yellow and white boxes."
"But yours are so much cooler."
"Really, what do they look like?"
"One is a sort of lavender and the other is a grey box."
"Hmm. Interesting to know. Go get in the shower."
"Because you have brain matter, cerebral fluid and blood all over your fucking head and bedroom walls.
"Wanna join me?"
"Fuck no. I like you, but not in that way."
"You think brain matter is a turn on?"
"Well you are really smart."
"Think outside your skull, Wade. Now go, before I sever your trigger fingers and your favorite appendage."
"I'm going, i'm going," he jumped up and ran into the bathroom.
Fucking suicidal mouthy-assed mercenary.
"I heard that, too," he called.
"Can you hear this?" I held up my middle finger.
"What's she doing? Aw, so not nice. And here I thought we were friends."
"We are," I called. "That's why my crazy plays nice with yours."
"I don't hear any water running."
"Shut up kid or I'll ground you."