So if anyone is here because they read (and enjoyed) Waiting Around To Die and wanna see Cable's perspective now, you're good to go. ;D (Super super thank you for the support, by the way!)
If you haven't read the first story yet, I definitely recommend doing that for the good of the reading order. Though, it's extremely possible that reading the two simultaneously, going through story number one's chapter one and then story number two's one (continued ad nauseam), could be utterly righteous!
Either way, I hope you enjoy the Wade on Cable goodness!

Ever since Cable and his wife had decided to go their separate ways, he'd essentially been living the life of a hermit. He didn't go out, he hadn't been out with anybody in at least as long, and his wife'd always said that he wouldn't know a pickup line if it bit him on the ass.
Well, he was pretty sure that the prisoner in the inordinately tight orange jumpsuit was throwing them around like confetti at some demented, clown themed, childrens party.

Though, he'd admit he was rusty at the game, and that he'd never been any good at it to begin with, Cable was approximately 69% sure that was what was going on here.
What he wasn't sure about, was why the annoying, flirty beyond reason inmate with the really nice ass was protecting his target.
Nor why the guy with absolutely no hair wasn't staying down.

Generally, when Cable hit someone —and it didn't always take all that much effort either— they gave up right quick. This guy though, was coming back from some 'life ending' powered shots. Going so far as countering; almost getting in a few good swipes of his own. Which, in and of itself, was far more unsettling than the fact that the guy kept speaking lewd comments after being thoroughly impaled with a disease ridden length of rebar.

When the weirdo caught up to him, before he could complete his mission of eliminating Fire Fist from the timeline he'd ravaged, they'd exchanged a few more improbable, death defying blows. All with a running, weirdly flirtatious commentary from the guy who's jumpsuit was getting more and more full of holes but who's body, which Cable could see more and more of, didn't seem to be any worse for wear.

"Hey, handsome, it's too bad we didn't meet at a time you weren't trying to murder an innocent kid, 'cause we won't have any time for love making until you forget about the Kiwi and you're ready to give me your undivided attention."

Cable didn't know what to do with that, aside from drive his techno organic fist into the guy's face hard enough that he felt the unmistakable snap of a well formed jawbone.

Didn't stop his 'dance' partner from getting in the way of his next perfectly aimed death strike, keeping the future mass murderer alive for just a few seconds longer, but it did stop him from talking for a beat. Intelligibly, anyway.

"Come on, gorgeous, let's hug it out," slurred a wet sounding voice from right next to his ear. An instant before Cable was swallowed up in a firm upper body embrace. Which he broke out of the moment the shock of not having been stabbed or lacerated or otherwise injured when the no doubt felon somehow got the drop on him.

That time, he broke the guy's femur. Just to be sure he'd stay down. Which —of course— didn't work worth a shit. The guy got right back up and held out a closed hand, saying-


Then, the inmate with the freakiest mutative power Cable had ever seen opened his fist, giving him warning just enough in advance that he could activate his shield and avoid being smeared against the prison wall by one of his own concussive grenades.

Thoughtful, for someone who'd landed themselves in a super max prison at the top of a secluded mountain peak. It was almost too bad the guy'd gone and killed himself. Just to protect a kid who would bring incalculable death and destruction to their very world. If Cable didn't succeed and stop him before he reached his full potential.

Hoisted by his own, explosive petard. That's how he found himself nursing a concussion headache and a few bruises in a cheep motel room back in the populated part of town.
Guzzling down a few beers to help take the edge off the... not quite regret he felt at how single minded he needed to stay for this whole 'save the future and his family' thing to work.

Almost wishing the inmate with the weird idea of a good time hadn't needed to die, Cable cracked open another lukewarm 'cold one' and drank it in a one draft salute to a good fighter gone... arguably too soon.

Then, he stowed the dangerous sentimentality and went back to preparing for the next time he'd have a chance at nipping this Fire Fist problem in the proverbial bud.

Yep. That's Cable for you. So work oriented. Barely had time to enjoy the extremely nice view.
Barely. But he still did. Heh heh!