Into The Fog - Wade and Jennie

[x-roulette.livejournal.com]

Jennie makes a visit to Wade in the Medlab, and something he says leads to the revelation of a secret.



Having everyone under the same roof again meant that the Medlab cared for all of the injured, from every mission. While Jennie was technically there to help with the sorting and the filing and the inventory, she occasionally helped deliver lunch, bring supplies and was frankly an extra warm body and set of hands when the time came.

So she was there when the brought Wade back. Jennie winced when she caught sight of him, thinking back to her idle lecture about people with healing factors and their propensity to get completely chewed up because they weren't thinking about consequences.

Then there was that other thing. He had been eviscerated, shot, beaten up, and his face melted and burned with some sort of acid. That knowledge made Jennie's heart beat a little faster, so when he was awake and alert enough, Jennie went to see him, hoping her hunch was only her paranoia.

Wade's healing factor was taking care of things. Slowly, it was true, but he could at least breathe without blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth. He'd take that as a win. Not that having his ribs reset themselves had been fun, of course, and he did have a pretty impressive new scar on his stomach, but it was better than being stuck eating nothing but yogurt for a week. When Jennie popped in, the mercenary gave her a smile. "Hola, chica. Come to remind me I'm supposed to be a responsible 54 year old and not wind up in the Medlab?"

"I mean, your timing is terrible," Jennie said, hand on her hip. He seemed all right, but his skin was red from where it had been burned. She swallowed and walked into the room. "How you doing, old man? Russians and acid don't seem like too much fun."

"The Russians were all dead when we got there. Except for two. And I offed them quick. Mercy killing," Wade said, shifting a little in bed and wincing. "It was the Irish guy that was the problem."

Jennie's heart plummeted to her stomach, her hand involuntarily went to her chest. "What Irish guy?"

"It was sometime after midnight," Wade said, taking in her reaction and deciding to tread carefully. "So I didn't get a name, but he had dark hair and knew street fighting. Why?"

Jennie took a deep breath, flexing her fingers. Then she stood straighter, because suddenly it was two years ago. A different time, a different place, a different Jennie.

"Wade, this is very important. Did you see his eyes?"

Of course, those eyes. They were so distinctive. Wade closed his own and let out a pained sigh. "Damn, Jen." He took a slow breath and said, "Yeah, I saw his eyes. Black and white, fractured like broken glass, like somebody punched a hole right through his pupil and all that was left was the cracks."

"Like someone reached through and ripped out their soul," Jennie said, looking at somewhere beyond the floor.

Wade paused for a beat then asked, "Friend of yours?"

"He--" Jennie looked up, and her eyes were haunted. "He's the one who burned you, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Wade confirmed. "Sliced himself and melted off half my face." He watched her, taking in her every reaction. "Is that what happened to him? Somebody ripped out his soul? What're we dealing with, demons?"

"A demon, yes," Jennie said back in her chair. "She calls herself Mother. What you met on that boat were two of her Disciples. They say-- they say the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows. The man I knew, the man you met-- used to be one of the noblest people I knew. He was kind and brave, and always did his best, even if he knew he would fall short. What Mother does is take the darkness inside of you and make it manifest. Every horrible thought you've ever had, every bad thing you've ever wanted to do. You become your shadow. She likes heroes. She likes idealists. Because they're so much fun to twist and break."

Jennie closed her eyes. "So yes, she did rip out his soul. And ate it. What you met last night is what's left."

"Fuckin' hell," Wade muttered. "You gotta talk to Amanda and Wanda and the rest of X-Force. They deal with demon-y things. There's been a lot of them lately."

Jennie looked over her shoulder, to see if any prying ears were around. "Remy was keeping an eye out for me, I don't know how much the others knew. I--" she rubbed her hands over her face. "If she's back, if she's acting up again. This is bad. Very bad."

"Doesn't matter how much they knew," Wade said, stressing the word. "They need to know now. Patterns and people and things and... methodology. Victimology. So Doug can track her or her people."

"Right," Jennie said. They had to know. They needed to know. But what was she doing to them, putting them on her trail so soon after the world had ripped itself in half? They would be in such danger.

"She killed them, Wade." Jennie said softly. "My team. My people in England. Butchered them all and took him and made him into-- And they weren't amateurs. Did you ever hear of John Preston?"

"Spooks aren't really my area of expertise," Wade said, wincing again. He pressed his palm to his side and forced himself to think. "But the name rings a bell. Disavowed a couple... what, decades ago? Made a splash. Fell off the radar."

"And ended up dead and trussed up like a Christmas decoration," Jennie stood. "I need to talk to Amanda and Marie-Ange. If you're going looking for her-- I can't guarantee how it will end."

"Nobody can guarantee anything," Wade said. "Not ever. Hell, we can't even guarantee the sun will rise tomorrow these days. But it's our choice to do whatever we do. So other people don't have to. Besides. I'm still basically impossible to kill."

"Yes," Jennie said and she smiled sadly. She leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry he hurt you, Wade."

"Better me than North," Wade said, quirking a smile. "I mean, have you seen him? He's like. Old. Grey hair and everything. Probably has brittle bones."

"Get some rest old man," Jennie said. "I'm going to talk to your people."