Logan, Wade, Kyle, & Doug - discussions, then bar fights and food (backdated like whoa)

[x-deadpool.livejournal.com]

Logan and Wade meet up for drinks and discussion of their pasts takes place, albeit in a very edited fashion from Wade's end. Then a bar fight breaks out and they realize they've got some friends involved. Obviously they have to help. The Bro Code demands it.


Wade stretched his arm up and over his head, suppressing a groan as sore muscles pulled and shifted. Dropping his hands to the table in front of him, he reached over and grabbed the bottle of whiskey so he could pour himself another shot. Tipping the bottle toward Logan, he raised his eyebrows and asked, "Another?" They'd been here for most of the evening, going back and forth with stories in between discussing classic cars, sumo wrestling, and the fine art of taking somebody down with as little effort as possible. The fact that neither of them could actually get drunk on the amount of liquor they were drinking was neither here nor there.

Logan nodded and slid his glass closer to get a refill. Between the two of them, they'd probably doubled their waitress' best night in tips and then some. He watched the alcohol slide into his glass and while neither of them could get drunk, didn't mean they couldn't enjoy the taste. The conversation'd been good and with the beer flowing' it'd been a damn good night so far. Not many people he could sit and talk with like this. Most looked at him weird when he slipped up and mentioned something that shoulda been before his time. "You sore? Shouldn't that healing factor of yours have taken care of it by now?"

Quirking a smile, Wade finished pouring and sat the bottle down, then picked up his own glass. "Takes a while, sometimes. I took a couple good hits today working with one of the students. Bruises haven't cleared up yet." He tugged up the sleeve of his shirt to show Logan. "I'll be good in the morning." He figured sitting for most of the day after letting himself get knocked around probably wasn't his best plan ever, but he didn't regret it.

Logan tilted his head at that. "Huh, kinda odd for a healin' factor. Normally bruises are the easiest things to take care of." He took a couple sips of the whiskey, savoring its slide down his throat. "Someone mess with it or somethin' over the years?" He'd never encountered anyone with a natural healing factor that acted that slow before. It just didn't feel right. It felt like something was off. He liked the guy but he didn't know much about him.

North'd said Logan didn't remember the program and that Wade should avoid discussing the past with him. They'd been doing a lot of general talking, but about superficial things in the past, nothing personal. Wade was pretty sure bringing up Weapon-X would be on North's 'don't mention it' list, but at the same time, it wasn't often he actually met somebody else who'd come through the program still breathing and not trying to kill him. "You could say that, yeah," he answered, settling back in his chair. "Military's all fun and games until you do something they don't like. Remember I mentioned the needle poking and the crazy people jackets?"

"Yeah, I remember." Logan had his own version of that even if he had supposedly volunteered for it. That part of the story he still hadn't decided if he believed or not. "That figure into whatever messed with your healing factor?" He shouldn't even be askin' Wade about his past. He knew what it was like to get questions about stuff he didn't really want to answer. But then he hadn't been snapped at yet. He'd let it play and see if it got him any answers then he'd stop bein' nosy. "I should tell you my version of that story at some point."

"You're more than welcome to talk if you want. But to answer your question, yeah, I think so," Wade said, toying with his glass a bit. "Never really had any confirmation and the docs can't seem to figure things out - not for lack of trying or smarts. Just... what they did to me wasn't really standard, I guess. Or maybe it was and it just didn't take as well for me as it did everybody else. Or maybe everybody else died and this is as good as it gets." He shrugged. "Course, then they tried to kill me, so y'know. That didn't go so well for 'em."

"Huh." Logan'd never had much of a head for science and whatever the military'd done to Wade was probably beyond him aside from the obvious. He nodded. "Assholes never were great about tellin' us exactly what they were doin'." He let out a bark of laughter at that and knocked back the rest of the whiskey in his glass. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then reached for the whiskey bottle again. "They never learn do they? Train us to be what they want, experiment on us, amp us up, and then they turn on us, forgettin' about everything they gave us in the meantime."

Wade grinned. "I know, right? I will admit, some of my fondest memories are finally offing the sadistic fucks who kept me locked up while they were deciding what to do with me." He took a sip of his drink, enjoying it for a moment before shaking his head. "Here, Wade, let me give you these awesome abilities and teach you thirty-five additional ways to kill a man with your pinkie finger and a toothpick - oh, oops, nevermind. Wait, why won't you die?"

Logan grinned back. "Yeah, definitely the best." Not that he could say that for himself exactly. He'd been more focused on piecin' together what'd happened than taking' joy in who'd he taken down. He supposed he had some satisfaction in knowin' the people that'd done this to him were dead and wouldn't be able to do it to anyone else. He chuckled. "As thorough as they were with buildin' us up, their plans for takin' us down weren't nearly as thorough. Don't know what that says about us or them. But they're dead and we aren't." He refilled his cup and reached over to top off Wade's. "Here's to celebratin' our fucked up lives."

"To fucked up lives." Clinking the bottom of his glass against Logan's, Wade chuckled and then knocked the whiskey back. "May we keep on living them. And may they be a little less fucked up." He was just reaching for the bottle again when he heard a commotion up toward the front of the bar. He paused mid-reach and looked over, eyebrows rising. "That's not just a scuffle."

Logan knocked back his own shot. "And to infinitely long lives, not what they're all cracked up to be." He followed Wade's glance to the source of the commotion. "What the hell?" Recognition kicked in shortly after as he saw someone with pointed ears deck someone else to make him proud. "Wait, I know one of those idiots in there." He shook his head. "Think we should go help 'em out?"

Just as Logan mentioned knowing somebody in the midst of the brawl, Wade spotted a familiar head of curly blond hair and snorted in amusement. Somehow he wasn't surprised. "Hey, there's Doug. We should probably - wow. It always amazes me, sort of - Ramsey throws a mean left elbow for a dude who's right-handed."

It wasn't entirely clear who'd started the bar brawl, but as such things tended to do, it had quickly spiraled out of control. And Doug and Kyle, who had shown up to have a few beers without any knowledge of Wade and Logan being in attendance, were taking all comers. Doug couldn't speak for why Kyle was willing to dive into things fist-first, but he definitely was feeling a need to turn his brain off for a while. He was a mess of emotions lately, and a situation where he needed to react purely physically might help him get outside of all that.

The previously noted left elbow cracked across the jaw of Doug's current opponent, who staggered, then fell when Doug continued the tight turn and brought his right hand around in a close, vicious hook. The way the man slumped to the floor after the second hit said he was clearly unconscious.

Kyle had every clear idea of how the fight had started. Drunk idiots trying to get in his face for being a mutant, and 'a big ugly mutant' and they really hadn't appreciated that he was like "dudes, whatever, get outta my face" instead of being offended. (Even if he was offended). He hadn't certainly thrown the first punch, he had thrown the second, and the first knee, and the headbutt that had one of the guys falling into a bar stool.

He was very much considering the merits of 1) baring his teeth in this guy's face and maybe biting him on the shirt some to make a point and b) having at least one more drink because he was going to have to set his own damn nose later, unless Doug wasn't too drunk to set it for him.

"Oh, ouch," Wade murmured. "Good form on Kyle's leg sweep, though. Pretty sure his nose is busted - think we should pull them out before they do any real damage and get banned?"

Logan was tryin' to hide a grin 'cause he recognized several of those moves and the kid was puttin' 'em to great use. "Probably. They ain't the only ones that like to come here a lot." He knocked back the last of the whiskey in his glass then slid out from behind their table. "Ramsey's not bad himself. Might try to clear more room for maneuverin' though."

If Doug could have heard Logan's observation, and had time to respond between punches, he would have noted that a multi-person bar brawl didn't always lend itself to having more room to work in. Sometimes being in close was better, it all depended on what was happening. For instance, he let his current opponent swing wildly at him, the punches landing ineffectually on his arms as they protected his head. Then, when they were practically nose-to-nose, Doug grabbed the scruff of the man's neck and jumped, landing a knee right under the floating ribs.

The snap-sting of a broken finger distracted Kyle momentarily - he couldn't punch right and keep his claws in, and this wasn't the kind of fight where he wanted to dig into someone's face, and that meant that sometimes, he jammed or broke a finger. Small price to pay, really, in the long run, but the half second or so of distraction meant that it gave one of the assclowns who'd taken offence to his face - literally - a chance to punch him in it. Again. On the broken nose.

The room was emptyin' pretty quickly around the brawl. It was all too easy to get swept up if you hung around on the edges. He couldn't see where the bartenders had scattered off to but he bet they wouldn't be gone long. They'd probably come back with shotguns to put an end to things. Logan made his way around pushed out chairs and stepped over the shattered remains of a beer bottle just in time to grab the asshole that'd punched Kyle in the face and yank him back. "Don't think that was such a good idea, bub." The asshole snarled something about "mutie lovers" then proceeded to break his hand against Logan's jaw. "Hey, Badger Face, you wantin' one last crack at this one?"

Wade walked over to Doug and nudged the guy he'd just kneed over. The guy collapsed and curled in on himself, leaving Wade to grin at his friend before ducking a punch coming at his head from his left. Sweeping his leg out, he knocked the new man off balance, continuing the movement even as the man stumbled, falling into a table. The mercenary stood and landed a rapid series of blows to the man's solar plexus and stomach. "Ramsey," he said, waggling his eyebrows a bit. "Shall we?" With an almost courtly gesture, he indicated the red exit sign and the door beneath it.

Doug calculated response times in his head, and the level of force likely to come to bear in putting a halt to the brawl, and nodded sharply at Wade's suggestion. "Exeunt, stage left," he called to Logan and Kyle.

It wasn't the first time Kyle had laid across the back of a car with his head on someone's leg, it was just that the last time, he had been nine, and he had been falling asleep after his grandparents and parents had taken him to the State Fair, and he'd eaten too many corndogs. This time, he was digging the claws of one foot into the floor, and digging the claws of one hand into his own leg while his nose was being manipulated deftly. "Fuck, ow, how many places did I break the damn thing?" he grumbled, once he could sit up.

"At least two," Doug said, wiping the slight film of sweat that had rubbed from Kyle's nose to his fingers off on his jeans. "Maybe three. Going back in for a headbutt when your nose is already broken - not the smartest of moves." He held a hand up to forestall any protest from Kyle. "And I say this as a man who has broken his nose enough to require surgery in order to put it back properly. Those of us in this car without healing factors - oh wait, that's just me - have to get by the normal way."

Logan eyed them using the rearview mirror and ignored the weird sense of familiarity the whole thing gave him. He wasn't gonna think about that too hard. "What'd the idiots say to set you two off anyway? You'd normally be the ones tellin' me to hold off and not do damage in places we're wantin' to show our faces in again." It was kinda nice. For once he wasn't the one that was gonna need to do any explaining.

Shifting gears as he slowed, then stopped at a red light, Wade turned in his seat so he could look at the younger men in his backseat. "Seriously, dudes. Non-bio-son, you need to make sure your finger doesn't heal crooked. Rebreaking sucks ass. What did those assholes say?" Facing forward again, the mercenary waited for the light to change and then headed toward the one place he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, would have pie at this hour.

Kyle wiped his face of the blood from his nose with his t-shirt - it was black, the bloodstains wouldn't show much, and then held out his hand to have the finger set. "Dude, why you gotta assume we started it? They were asswipes, I was no-shit ignoring them, and you know, they just didn't much like that I might've said that if I was single, that their girlfriends might enjoy some mutie dick."

"I may have..." Doug's mouth quirked up at the edges remembering the look on the other men's faces. "...doubled down on Kyle by noting that I -am- currently single, and that their girlfriends might enjoy a...how did I phrase it again? 'Mutie A-frame'."

Wade started laughing. He really couldn't help it. "Pie," he said, pulling into the IHOP parking lot. "I am buying you guys pie."

Logan grinned. "Now that's a damn good way to start a fight. Wish I coulda been there to see the looks on their faces." He shifted to look into the backseat. "Once Wade's done with his pie run, maybe a liquor store to get some more booze for us all."

"IHop, pfft." Kyle muttered. "Diner. Pie. Doug where is? You know the one." He shrugged and sat up, wiggling his newly set finger with a grimace. "They have a bar, they like us, and the booths are like eleven feet wide." Plus most of the waitstaff didn't look at him funny if he ordered his steak blue but steaming. "Wouldn't've been a fight if they weren't bigots and trying to get in our face. Guys wanted a fight, you know, I'ma give them one."

"When come back, bring pie," Doug said with a somewhat loopy grin of his own. He wasn't drunk or anything, just in a giddy state from being more than a bit worn out. "Diner," he agreed, and rather than get out and head into the IHOP, the car started up again and Doug directed Wade to their new destination. The foursome got themselves seated and ordered a very large amount of food before setting to discussing the pie options available.

"One of every pie," Wade said, not even bothering to look at the menu. "Two of the lemon one." This was an American diner. They had some kind of lemon pie and Wade was going to eat all of one by himself. "And three of the peanut butter one." Between the three of them with healing factors and Doug's tertiary mutation being something along the lines of "ability to eat all the peanut butter and chocolate ever," they'd finish everything off.

Logan inhaled deeply because all the smells wafting through the place had his mouth watering. It wasn't a place he'd been before, but he'd definitely be making a point to come back if the food lived up to the smells. He'd been back about a month now and was still savoring the American style food like he'd just returned. "Think I found my new favorite diner." He smirked. "And course they like us. We probably make half their bills in one go." As the food arrived, they all started digging in and fuck yeah, did the food live up to its promise.

One of "every pie" had included a chicken pot one, and Kyle had taken possession of it, complete with little snarling noises that would've sounded menacing if he hadn't also been grinning while he waved a fork to defend "his" pie. "Any place that makes food I can eat, and is open all night gets my stamp of approval." He stuffed an overly large mouthful of food into his face, and barely bothered to chew.

Doug wasn't eating quite as ravenously as Kyle, but it wasn't for lack of trying. After all, he was fueling his own healing, even if it didn't occur at the speed of anyone else at the table. He even didn't mind so much hanging out with Logan - they might never be the best of friends, but the man had been much more easygoing since his return from wherever-the-hell. "One of these days you're going to realize that the only time I'm going to direct someone to a crappy place to eat is if I'm not going there myself." He grinned.

Wade watched Kyle eating his pie almost contemplatively, then waved at their server and said, "I want one of those, too, please." He grinned back at Doug and said, "You've been holding out on me, Ramsey. This is the sort of place you tell your friends about right off so they can share in its deliciousness and promote its continued existence by eating everything that gets put in front of them." He was pretty sure they were eating the diner out of all their pies and Wade was okay with that. More than okay. He wasn't exactly starving, but he was still all kinds of bruised up and he figured more food couldn't hurt his healing factor's chances of hurrying the fuck up already. "Logan, you better eat that pie faster or I'm gonna steal it."

"Lay off, bub. You already got plenty of pie for yourself." Logan defended his pie against Wade's attempts to steal bites with some strikes of his own fork. He also curled an arm around it in defense. If it got down to it, he wasn't against using his claws. "Some of us like tastin' what we eat." Though he did start shoveling in the pie a bit faster.

"Wade. Dude. The man has knives in his hands. Don't steal his food." Kyle waved his fork again in defense of his half-eaten pie. "I like tasting what I can eat but my nose isn't healed up yet, so I can't smell anything so it don't matter." He stuffed another mouthful of food in and chewed, sort of. "Okay, so I know why Doug and I were looking for bar fights, what the hell were you guys doing at our dive bar?"

"Drinking," Wade answered, grinning around his fork. "Not looking for a fight at all. You interrupted our night out. But then pie, so y'know. It's alright."

Logan swallowed a burp and nodded toward Wade. "That and comparin' notes on our sordid pasts." He grinned. "Seems we've got a lot in common." He polished off the last bite of his pie with relish. "With food this good, we should come out here more often."

"I've given up on questioning the crazy coincidences in our lives," Doug said with a sage nod. Between the infamous field trip curse, and the tendency for people to run into each other at the strangest of places with the strangest of consequences, the four of them all winding up at the same bar barely registered on the happenstance meter.

"I don't ask questions, dude. Questions get you -answers-, and damn, I do not want any answers anymore," Kyle said.