Wade stared into the water jets from behind the powerful spray, his eyes studying the shower head, but consciously, his thoughts were elsewhere.
"So...you don't mind if I ask where you learned Chinese, do you?"
The ride back had been uncomfortably silent. Filled most with Wade sticking his fingers through holes in suit and Bruce staring at the floor. No one was sure what to exactly say, or if there was anything to be said at all.
But the time for that, as everyone could feel, was not now.
Natasha once again had volunteered to fly the plane back home, most likely so as not to be stuck in the back with Bruce, but even more likely because she needed a menial task to keep her composure.
Tony texted Pepper periodically, Hawkeye ventured up to Natasha eventually and Steve sat in a position that indicated he was probably thinking deeply on something. If Steve's reaction to Bruce's question was any indication to what it was he was thinking, Wade had a good idea. He looked up quickly, watching Wade's expression and eyes go from Bruce to himself and then back to Bruce.
"You learn a thing or two in special forces school. Sometimes those things stick with you..." His voice grew darker, "...Especially when your life depends on it...I used it as a lingua franca a lot of times...between myself and base. I couldn't risk speaking in English, you know."
"Sounds like you were in the middle of some pretty risky situations..." Steve said, leaning forwards, eyes catching Wade's.
"Yeah." Wade nodded, "Yeah, I've got some experience under my belt...that's for sure..."
"So why'd you leave it?" Tony asked, his voice holding no accusation, no insinuations...just curiosity. He looked up from his cellphone, all sarcasm gone, all humor drained. It was a plain and simple question.
But the answer...wasn't.
"Why'd I leave?" Wade paused rubbing his hands together, looking down at the small incision in his military-grade gloves, staring at the gauze he could see beneath, speckled and dotted with blood seeping from the melting skin under it, "...Well, I guess you could say my time was just up. It was...time for me to move on. I had other opportunities and I took them..."
Half truths. It had been his go-to strategy from the beginning. Not just the beginning of his relationship with the Avengers, but since the beginning of...life as he knew it.
He could remember, ten or eleven years old, in the fifth grade and his teacher asked him if his Dad was showing up for the Father's Day brunch on Friday...she needed an answer after all, it was Wednesday. He'd been avoiding filling out the forms.
He told her "probably not because he probably can't make it. My mom said to just mark it no, Mrs. Callahan."
And it was true. He probably couldn't make it considering he'd left three years ago and hadn't even called since. Not a letter...nothing.
So hey, it wasn't a lie, was it?
Sometimes things stick with you...especially when they help you survive.
Wade pulled at the wrapping around his hand and fearfully pulled it away. He could see already that whatever it was had spread even further up his arm, by at least two inches.
He pulled away the strips and looked at the mottled twisted skin, gnarled and ugly looking back at him. These sections that looked like exposed muscle were firmly attached to him in comparison to the healthier skin above that slid with a slimy bloody trail off of himself.
He hesitantly slid it beneath the jets and hissed to himself as the hot water hit the red premature skin, "Damn it...Alright. No big deal, Wade." He withdrew his hand, "...Friday nights and the light are low...looking out for a place to go..." He gave a sigh, whispering, "...you are the dancing queen...young and sweet, only seventeen...Dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine..." He pulled his hand against himself and gave a low laugh, "This is pitiful, isn't it...?"
He looked down at what had once only been an affected hand to the skin peeling off just above his wrist and frowned.
"...Maybe it's time I start telling the full truth, eh?..." He gave another sigh and dipped his head beneath the water, "...Or I'll have the skin of an oak tree..." He pulled himself from the water, "Or, worse...I might..."
"...diggin' the dancing queen..."
Tony rubbed the back of his neck for just a second before rolling his eyes at his own stupidity and rapped his hand against the door three times. Half of him was fearful of what would greet him. Not that he was really scared of him, but he couldn't imagine what he might be met with. What did a guy like him do in his free time any-...No, he didn't want to know.
He could hear low music playing and it wasn't surprising he could hear some keyboard and funky bass playing. He figured if he looked through his Pandora (if he had one) he'd only find: 70s Funk, 70s Disco, 60s, 70s, and 80s Pop and maybe a small, gently frequented 90s hip/hop. He'd thought he heard him mumble some Vanilla Ice lyrics once in the plane ride back from Taiwan, but didn't really question it.
He'd been too busy thinking up the words he was about to say now.
The door opened after a few moments of some audible fumbling to reveal a half-toweled Wade, still dripping.
"Ooh, how you doin' baby?"
Tony raised an eyebrow.
"No, not you. The bow legged one...What's your name? Damn, baby, that sounds sexy."
"You're packed and you're stacked!" Wade pointed towards his backside, "'Specially in the back, brother wanna thank your mother for a butt like that. Can I get some fries with that shake-shake bo-"
He smiled and then cleared his throat as though trying to maintain a straight face, "Sorry. Salt-N-Pepa marathon on my phone. Nice speakers by the way, way better than the ones I'm rocking at Casa de Wilson. I've got a Bose, but these, whatever they are, are like outta this world. I can hear 'em breathing between words sometimes. Kinda creepy, but I like it."
"Stark Sound, best audio system on the market."
"Yeah? I gotta get one. Save my pennies up. Hah...uh...So..did you need something?"
Tony gave half a smirk, "I just came over to express my disinterest in your taste of music and suggest something more along the lines of AC/DC...or Black Sabbath."
"Really? Because I like them alright too. Back in black, you know? To those who rock...right? American thighs and all that."
Tony fought against the small smile tugging at his lips, "...I came to say...nice...work, I guess? This is really Captain Broad-Stripes and Bright-Stars' job but, I figured I probably owed you it considering...I mighta been a little hard on you. But...in the end, you brought Bruce back and..." Tony extended his hand after a discontented sigh, "I'm not too good at apologies. Let's just shake hands?"
"No problemo, amigo." Wade took his hand with a genuine smile and a nod, "I kinda wanted...to say that I also mighta lost my patience a little...I haven't worked with people in a while, so my social skills are a little rusty." He laughed.
"Well, you did great with Bruce...Whatever you said sure did convince him."
"Oh, uh..." Wade thought back to the conversation with discomfort, "...well, just the usual persuading stuff: The Avengers aren't The Avengers without you. There's impending doom, the Earth needs you. You know, just...kept it honest. Hah."
"Well, guess it worked. Hey, uh, ironic enough we order some Chinese take out. It'll be here in about ten, but I'm gonna start Sake bombing in five."
"Sounds like a plan! Haven't done a sake bomb since grade school! I'm just gonna get dressed and I'll be there."
"Alright, pal, but don't expect to beat my high score." Tony shared a single horizontal hand slap with Wade before moving back towards the elevator as Wade closed the door.
Wade looked from the dresser to the stereo and then to his partially wrapped arm he'd kept hidden behind the door.
"...Now to tell you I'm a big fat liar..."
He finished taping the bandages and then moved to the dresser where he'd stored his clothing. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt: the first two articles of clothing within hand's reach. He pulled each of these on quickly and made his way back to the bathroom to put away the Firt-Aid kit he'd left carelessly on the counter. He looked at his arm.
The bandages would be far more noticeable now and decided to grab a jacket from the dresser. He pulled the dark blue hoodie out and slunk into it quickly. Turning off the stereo.
"...but maybe not just yet..."
"I'm on fiiiire...I'm on fiiiiire...I'm on fiiiiire...I'm on fieeee-...Fireball."
Wade danced his way into the room, his mouth a large pearlescent gleaming grinning display. He shrugged his shoulders backwards, pointing towards the bar, "I knew my rent was gonna be late about a week ago, I worked my ass off, but I still can't pay tho'. But I've got just enough to get up in this club and-"
Heads turned, eyes squeezed tight, eyebrows pinched together.
Wade stopped, his arms freezing and falling down back to his sides, "...have me..a good time...?"
Tony was behind the bar, his back to him, drinking something clear and flat out of a glass. A bottle was opened but Wade couldn't tell what it was. His eyes went around the room looking for an answer.
"You are a traitor!" Thor yelled after a moment of silence, "No longer do I trust you and your serpentine ways!"
"Easy." Steve murmured, hand on his shoulder, "You said," Steve begun, louder, "You said you didn't know anything." Steve said his anger evident but withheld.
Shit. He looked around once more time and looked to Bruce who quickly avoided his stare. Shit. He took in a breath of air. Survivor's Handbook Tip 434, keep calm even in the face of danger.
"You said to us, Wade, that you didn't know anything about MARK. But you told Bruce something different."
Wade bit down on his tongue, eyes dead set on Steve. The pinnacle of perfection and patriotism. He'd often run the differences in his head between him and himself during long missions with an abundance of solitude...the missions that sometimes got to him but rule 12 always reminded him of steps to take to ensure and maintain sanity in missions such as those. One was try comparing things. So after comparing apples to pears, chicken noodle to tomato soup, and Coca-Cola to Pepsi, he finally thought: Super Soliders.
Himself versus the Captain.
Then, in the forties, they'd had much stricter criteria for the super-soldier project. It was a difficult interview to say the least. But him? He was just what the government could get their hands on. He was just a host...and if the DNA recombination treatments and experiments worked it's magic like it should, bam, he was the next super soldier. The indestructible Agent Deadpool. It didn't matter who it was. it didn't matter if they'd been a criminal before or a pastor: so long as they signed a contract.
Decked in the U.S flag...protected by a matching patriotic shield...
Decked in black and grey...rust red accents...protected by his swords...his guns...
The difference was the idealistic optimistic warheads of the 1940s and the realistic pessimistic military overlords of the present.
Captain America was what America wanted. He was the perfect role model...the perfect specimen...
But he, Wade Wilson, was what the military needed. He was the shadow that performed the unspeakable acts that people shielded their children from ever hearing about, reading about or seeing...but it was what had to be done...even if it wasn't glorious enough to dress him in the American flag.
Lying? Yeah. It was what he did best sometimes...it stuck with him...it's what had kept him alive...and sometimes...sane.
"It's time to tell the truth, Wade."
"...Alright..." Wade sighed, "Ok, look...I can explain." He put a hand behind his neck, looking around at the doubtful faces, "Seriously, I can explain. Just...give me a chance."
"We already did." Steve growled, "We gave you more than-"
"And we'll give'im one more...right Steve? Because we're the good guys." Tony grumbled from over his glass, turning around slowly, lowering his head into his hand.
Steve didn't have to look back to guess the expression on Tony's face. He folded his hands across his chest and moved slowly towards the couch, sitting uneasily, "Right..." He said, "...one more."
Tony, glass in hand, sat into an arm chair, leg across his knee.
The others, grudgingly slow, walked to the living area faces frowning and postured rigid, watching Wade carefully with cold dead glares.
Tony looked into his glass.
"Sit down." Steve said, his tone indicating death was imminent with belligerence, "And this time, you're going to tell the truth."
Wade stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and moved to the empty chair. The same spot as before.
Everyone in their former locations, it was almost as though they'd picked up right from where they'd left off, with the only difference being that Bruce sat in Pepper's former seat. His eyes were questioning, curious but not accusatory...like hers.
"This conversation isn't over."
Tony's words rung clear in his mind.
"Explain. Now." Steve broke the momentary silence and Wade looked up to him, eyebrows lowering and mouth forming into a frown.
"Ok. Look...last time we talked about MARK? It was my first time learning about them too.. Fury never told me anything about them before then...but later that night...he said I might want to try hopping on board for the long-haul. For taking out MARK with you guys...Look, I mean...think about it. Fury's going to try and convince me to hop on board because the more able-bodies he's got fighting against these guys, the more likely it is we'll win, right? So it makes sense. He's a salesman."
Wade looked around but got no response.
"...Well that's when he told me about Killebrew...Me and that guy have some history. So when he told me about him being a part of MARK, he wasn't withholding anything from you guys...he was just trying to give me incentive. It's really nothing important, I-"
"Who is he? This Killebrew? You told Bruce he was a doctor. Trying to create Super Soldiers...like you. I think that constitutes as important."
"Yeah...About that..." Wade trailed off for a moment and then gave a sigh, closing his eyes and digging his hands deeper into his pockets, when he opened them, he looked to Bruce, "I might've exaggerated a little. Basically, MARK has him captive...and they're trying to get him to engineer them some super soldiers with the healing factor gene I have. Fury says he hasn't agreed to it yet but...it's only a matter of time until he does. The second they offer him a payout that's worth something to him...he'll take it. I know this guy."
"How? How do you know him?" Natasha asked, legs crossed, arms folded, seemingly unconvinced.
"Killebrew? He...He's a self-serving waste of human flesh... He was the doctor in charge of the Weapon X Experimentation Program...and he's the guy who gave me my healing factor...
"Weapon X Experimentation Program? I've never heard of it..." Clint looked from Natasha who shook her head in equal confusion and then back to Wade who was staring at the floor, his eyes unable to catch anyone else's, "What is it?"
"What's Weapon X?..." Wade thought over the question for a moment, "...A torture house...It was supposed to be...Yeah, It was supposed to be a place where superheroes were created. Mutates. With simple painless procedures. At least...that's what the brochure said...hah...yeah. It became like a chop shop for humans: most of the people there were either volunteers...or they got a death sentence and didn't have much to lose.."
"Which one were you?" Steve asked in the silence following Wade's word.
Steve recognized the look in Wade's eyes...he'd seen it before in men recounting battles to their superiors. And you couldn't fake that.
"...Me?...I was one of dead guys...Yeah...Cancer. Malignant tumors...spread to every organ possible. The doctor told me it was in my lungs, brain, prostate, ... my balls...Shit, I was..heh...I was just enlisting...had to go get the mandatory physical and that's when the doctor noticed something weird...like a freckle or a mole or something...It went off to testing and my girlfriend said it'd be nothing...Every night she told me not to worry...Not to worry. And when I finally got the call, I had a six month bill. That was it...just like that...I was dead. Out of options...It wasn't really that my life was worth much, but Vanessa, my girlfriend,...she depended on me...So, I had to figure out something...I ran through it and treatments were just...too expensive, not to mention useless...And what twenty-something year old guy has life insurance?...But, then, all of a sudden, like some kind of sign from God or something, I get an offer from my old recruiter about a week later: a way to get free and clear...Better. He said it was a cure. Not just a treatment: a cure, ya know? And even better: it was free. How could I say no to that?"
Wade leaned his arms against his legs, looking down to his socked feet in thought, "...Well...I was willing to believe anything I guess. I wasn't aware then that guys like me got treated like ten day old meat: the guys who were probably going to die anyway. The doctors didn't feel so guilty with us. If we died, it didn't really matter. And I didn't know they'd tried this whole experiment about fifty times before either. Fifty other guys: dead. They didn't list that in the brochure. I was admitted and the first thing I have to do is sign a contract signing myself over to them as government property. I promised to never leave the project, to never try and escape during experimentation and I promised my life to service...So after weeks of torture...after weeks of Killebrew's... torture..."
Wade's mouth went dry, mind flashing back to Killebrew's round sweat-speckled pale skin.
'Don't lose it.' He thought to himself, 'Ok, don't lose it...Where are you right now, Wade? Look around, you're in the Avengers tower. You're ok. You're not there. Not in the Workshop...Not in-...Just one look at you...and I know it's gonna be..a lovely daaaaaaaaay...a lovely daaa-...No, ok, come back, Wade. Breathe. Remember to breathe.'
Wade thought back on the long nights in his windowless dark cell. Hallucinating a female skeleton with the voice of a dark angel, dressed in flowing purple robes, whispering to him...beckoning him to the other side...but he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried...he couldn't find a way to just...die.
But he didn't want to be back there...not back to that cell or that building or those people or those smells...
He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the memory.
"...I served four years in the Weapon-X division of the Army's Special Forces as Killebrew's one real success...I was in too many missions to count for you, but...For nearly every branch and division of the Fed's, I've done just about everyone in the government a favor: but there's no IOU's here...it was just my job."
"So what happened?" Bruce gave a critical look.
"Out of nowhere, we became defunct. SHIELD was responsible for the most part I think, but Fury'll tell you different...but just like that...I'm left to...do what it is I wanted to do..."
Wade removed his hands from his pockets, "...Most of the guys I worked with killed themselves. They couldn't handle regular life afterwards...We had to go by strict codes and rules. And they never left us because...it's how we survived most days. The other guys just couldn't adjust. But...I choke that up to not having a reason to adjust...they didn't have a reason to go on. After X, I figured out I had a goal: to find Killebrew...and kill him..."
"Why?" Steve's voice had softened back to one of curiosity and intrigue, and when Wade finally dared to look back up to him again, his eyes showed genuine but cautious confusion, "...What I went through was painful beyond words...but I never dreamed of...I thanked Howard after..."
Tony's eye caught Steve's and they both looked away.
Tony forgot, but only sometimes, that one of Steve's idols had also been his own. Even if the difference was that Howard idolized Steve back, and offered Tony nothing but criticism. He looked back down to his drink and took another swig.
"No offense, but what you and I went through are two entirely different things, Captain Rogers." Wade whispered, "...You were given a shit load of injections and sent on your merry way. Yeah, it was a bitch for five minutes but you came out good at the end and everyone was there to shake your hand and say congratulations, you were their hero and-" Wade's voice shook and he stopped himself, taking a breath and swallowing.
He needed to recenter himself. Losing his cool would do the exact opposite of help his situation.
"...When I came in...The super soldier project was failing pretty miserably. So they brought in their last resort. Doctor Killebrew...because this guy didn't have moral limits. His only limits were the ones from nature and even those...he pushed'em. Some of the other guys in hospice called him Mengele... He thought him torturing on the 'inferior' was justified because it was for the 'greater good'...Personally...I think he just liked to hear us scream. He was allowed to do whatever he wanted to, as long as he made valid efforts to get his job done...and he did."
Wade thought back on the lab...the grey walls and fleeting shadows, the crying and weeping from the corners as nurses surrounded them to offer a wet rag on their foreheads and tell them: just die already, would you?
He pulled his arms in towards himself tightly and released a shaking breath, 'Keep it together, Wade ol' boy. Remember where you're at. Remember you're here...Avengers tower. Ok? Keep it together...'
"...I was taken to a place he called...The Workshop..." The name made him shake again and he arched his back to try and stop it, he balled his fists in his pockets and shut his eyes, "..That's...where he worked on me."
He could see his face above in the sticky yellow light, face looking him over like a mundane spread sheet. "Welcome to the Workshop, Mr. Wilson..."
He opened them, exhaling, "...he gave me a hundred different injections and then cut me open like a fish...no anesthetic...Real guerrilla style."
"No anesthetic, but-?" Bruce begun.
"He said it'd interfere with reading the results...Whether that's the truth or not..." He paused for a second and shook his head with a broken laugh, "It's not...He'd do it over and over again...injections and then a new slice. Arms, legs...wherever..."
"Why did he...-?"
"To see if the healing factor had kicked in...because the truth was he didn't really know what he was doing...See, before, all the other times they'd make this serum using fake genes...they were made in a lab. But they couldn't create this gene they wanted, So they got...samples... from real, living people. They modified it here and there, made the gene stronger, but other than that, they couldn't control it...so every time they injected this strain into people, it'd kill 'em for whatever reason. But with the right host, the right guy, it would work. When it didn't kill me, Killebrew knew this was his fault...it was something he was doing wrong. Ad Killebrew hated being wrong."
Wade shook his head, "So he put me on something...an immunodepressant...but everytime... he'd say they weren't strong enough. So he put me on stronger ones and stronger ones until eventually, I had no defenses... My immune system was gone. But that's what he wanted...so he shot me up with syringes of DNA cocktails for days on end...and when it still didn't work, it... made him mad...real mad. He... started making bigger, deeper cuts..." Wade swallowed, "He'd leave them open for days until they were infected and I had fevers of 105...I can't even remember how many times it happened...too many times... I couldn't fight off the infection with my immune system the way it was. My brain would start melting...I'd hallucinate...Evetually, he'd bring me back with an IV of antibiotics and electrolytes...and every time...I wanted to just give up and die... but he wouldn't let me...He thought if I got bad off enough, maybe it'd just...turn on. Like a light switch. And finally, this one time, he wheeled me into the Workshop half conscious, nearly dead from infection...and..."
Wade thought back, to the moment went his eyes met his, and he looked into pure evil. He saw the black pit of hate inside of him, he felt it in himself too. In that way, they were similar. They each had a burning hatred for the other.
But he wouldn't let this waste of human skin and flesh be the thing to do him in. No way. That's not how he'd go. He'd let the cancer kill him first.
"And that's when the healing factor worked...My wounds healed, the infection was gone within a day...I was shipped to X."
"Something had to of..." Bruce begun and watched Wade's head dip lower, "...what triggered it?"
"I dunno..." Wade said quietly, "...I guess hate. I hated him so much...all I wanted to do was live because I didn't want him to be the one that killed me..." Wade gave an ironic half-smile and shook his head, "What would have really pissed him off is if I'd died...but hey...I wasn't really thinking clearly."
"What happened to your girlfriend?" Natasha saw the flash of pain resurface in Wade's eyes.
"...I don't know." Wade shrugged, his smile gone, "She left because when I came back from X...I just..." He closed his eyes, turning away from Natasha.
He could see her feminine intuition working.
"Ya' know, I just...only ever wanted for her to be...happy. And what was best for her was life without...me. Especially after...after everything." Wade shook his head and took in a breath, leaning further back into the chair.
"Hey, but the show's not over kids..." He cocked half a smile and looked to Bruce and then back to Tony, "I lied about uh...why I came here too...why I volunteered to help you out. I mean..not exactly lied but..mislead a lot...I'm not being paid by Fury. See,...I'm not technically on any pay roll."
There was silence, but immediate interest was evident in each of their confused faces.
"But...why then?" Steve watched him carefully, leaning forwards.
"Well..." Wade swallowed, "...because life sucks." He gave a little laugh but it was one that was contained to only himself, quarantined inside of his aching heart, "...because my fucking life sucks. Because Killebrew fucked my life up even worse than it already was." Wade swallowed the gathering lump in his throat and gave an uneasy sigh, "Because...I realized that your friend had the same hobby as Killebrew: bio-engineering...and I needed him...I need him...'cuz I couldn't find Killebrew...but I did have the opportunity to find Dr. Banner..."
Wade looked to Tony , "I didn't want you guys thinking I was worthless...so I couldn't tell you about this from the start...but..." He looked to Bruce, "I've got a problem...My skin...it's..." Wade shook his head at a loss for words and decided the only correct thing to do would be to show him.
He rolled up his sleeve slowly, unraveling the gauze.
The skin, as mottled and zombie-like as before looked even worse under a staring audience. The newest section of diseased skin slid but stuck to his arm by threads.
He looked back to Bruce who's face had become grave, "...It's dying or something."
"...It could be a whole slew of infections..." Bruce begun his eyes looking from the paste of chewed up looking epithelium, shaking his head, "...but I'm not a medical doctor-"
"No, I know that.." Wade replied, "...I can't have an infection, Dr. Banner."
Bruce opened his mouth and then, as though something had suddenly hit him he gave a curious look, his eyes dancing around Wade's face for a moment thinking over what he'd just said, "Then...then it'd have to be from the healing factor? But...the healing factor is meant to..."
Wade watched him carefully, the perplexities falling into place in Bruce's head becoming more and more visible as his face became more and more screwed up in confusion.
"I'm guessing you've seen a doctor?"
"No- Look, I don't need one. My healing factor...it's gotta be the problem here. I can't get sick, I can't even get injured. My health is perfect. And," Wade pointed a finger, "...and since this has started, it's been working even better...it's been faster. Used to, a hand took like...two minutes to re-grow, now it's taking two seconds."
"...Ok..." Bruce nodded, rubbing the back of his head.
Feeling the exhaustion inside of himself building, he raked a hand through his hair and looked to the others.
Steve nodded and looked to Tony who, without finishing his drink, set it down on the table and took a breath, "Wade...you didn't just lie to me..." Tony folded his arms, "...you lied to my friends and our team. That's what we expect out of Fury, or a rat. Not somebody who's going to fight with us."
Wade gave a nod.
So this was it.
This was his council and their final decision.
First impressions were a bitch.
"...but, in the end you told the truth and I guess that's gotta count for something with me." Tony shrugged, "...Look, I guess I can get over it. But you listen to me right now."
Wade's eyes stared into Tony's.
"...You haven't earned my trust yet. If anything, you've lost any that I had."
Wade nodded once, "Understandable."
Steve leaned back, "Same goes for me..."
"Right." Clint said, eyes turning to Natasha who silently agreed with a poker-like nod.
Thor's frown was a phantom of what it was, but a feeling of betrayal was still obvious on his face.
"Swordbearer, I understand your choice to lie to us...on Asgard a warrior never shows pain when possible..."
"Um...thanks." Wade said with half a smile, "Cool-"
"But do not cross me and my friends again." Thor said thunderously, "Or I will show you that these regenerative abilities you possess will not be able to put you back together when I am done."
Wade's eyes widened, swallowing, "Very good intimidation skills. Damn." He looked to Bruce who sucked his lips inward and nodded.
"Ok. Let's go look at your arm."