God is a Gun: Molly & Wade | Late Sunday Afternoon

[x-deadpool.livejournal.com]

Against his better judgement, Wade takes Molly out to get the latest issue of her favorite comic - and the violence continues.

"Batgirl! Nanananananana!" Molly shouted as they exited the comic store, wrapping her yellow coat around her to cover her face like a cape. Her new(est) Batman hat that she just bought from there had eye holes so she was pretending like she was her favorite caped crusader, pointy ears and all. "I should really get a utility belt," she then added, squinting thoughtfully.

"You totally should," Wade agreed. "Come to think of it, I might have one you can have - I'm pretty sure it's black and everything. So it'd match the rest of your clever disguise."

Molly stopped dead in her tracks, peering up to him with wide eyes. "Seriously?" she said with a hushed whisper. "Do you also have batarangs and lasers and...and...things I can't remember but would be super helpful when fighting the suspicious and cowardly lot of bad guys? Y'know--eventually. When I'm an X-Person." Oh please, oh please, oh please.

It would be so much easier because then she wouldn't have to spend her entire allowance on gadgets. Not that she really needed them but just in case.

Wade smiled. "No, unfortunately, it doesn't come with batarangs and lasers, but we can work on a grappling hook and a medicine kit. The other stuff will have to wait until we get you trained up for them." He pulled the keys to the car from his pocket, hooking his finger through the keyring and flipping them around into his palm as he surveyed the area around them.

Doug had been shot earlier that day and, while everyone was fairly certain it had to do with the Assassin's Guild, he wasn't letting his guard down. They shouldn't have even come out, he and Molly, but she'd been so excited about a new issue and really, what could happen in the hour it'd take them to get into town, get the comic, and get back to the mansion? "C'mon, let's get back to the Impala. We can talk about your training."

"Medicine?" Molly said uncertainly as she started to follow him back to the car. Her parents did medicine and they did bad things. What if she grew up evil like her parents if she learned medicine? "I don't know about that."

"Not like, doctor stuff," Wade said. "Like, bandages and Neosporin and Tylenol. Y'know. In case you need them. Band-aids."

Molly arched an eyebrow, confused. "I wouldn't need that--" Something poked her in the head, a thunk, like someone flicking with their finger. She glanced up toward the sky, wondering if a bird had done it. Ew, bird poop.

The jolt registered before anything else, the kind of hit that knocks you back a step - but this was familiar. Wade knew what this was. He reached for Molly a second later, tucking her under one arm and ducking behind a parked car before he even realized he was moving. He shifted his free arm to press against the wound in his left side, a few centimeters more to the right and it would've hit his liver.

Rationally, he knew rolling to cover Molly was impractical - she was invulnerable and stronger than him to boot, but it was instinctive. She was just a kid. "Okay, Molly," Wade said, tone gruff as the pain finally hit. "I need you to keep an eye out for me, alright, look over my shoulder - just my shoulder. Look beyond me, tell me if anybody's coming toward us."

Molly had let out a squeak of surprise when Wade suddenly grabbed her and dragged her along. He had that look on his face like fake him did when they were being hunted in the future that never was. But he asked her to do something so she nodded and quickly glanced past him.

"Um... um... no? What's going on? I---" She saw the red then, bright red splattered against her yellow jacket like paint. But it wasn't paint. "Blood... Wademan, there's... there's blood... why is there blood? I'm not bleed...." Her eyes widened at the hole in Wade's side that he was trying to cover up but it only made his own jacket messy. "Ohmygosh, ohmygosh..."

"It's okay," Wade said, scrabbling for his phone in his coat pocket. "It's alright. I've got a healing thingie, remember? I'll be fine, it's just a little blood. Nothing important." He finally got his phone out and sent a text to Marie-Ange, then he called the mansion, got whoever was at the switchboard, and gave them a rundown of the situation as quickly as possible because Molly was freaking out despite his best efforts to keep her calm.

"It's not healing that quick, Wademan," Molly said with a frown as she reached out to put her hands over the wound so it'd be easier to talk. It was squishy and messy and gross and she saw bits of it on her jacket the closer she looked. "Do you think they're gonna come back? I can fight them if you need me to."

"I don't know, but I let all the good guys know where we are and what happened, so everything'll be fine." It wasn a through and through, he could feel that, so it wasn't as bad as it could've been. Probably. As long as the sniper wasn't moving. "We just gotta wait for a little while." By this point, of course, bystanders had realized something was wrong - they hadn't heard anything, but seeing a man drop followed by copious amounts of blood led to at least one scream. Wincing, he repeated, "We just gotta wait."