Disclaimer: not my characters (excepting OC's [duh?])
most characters will probably be OOC
Wade Wilson had been in some pretty shitty situations in his life, but he was pretty sure that this one took the cake. His gig had been so sweet, too. Traveling, killing people, making connections, killing people, meeting babes, and most awesomely getting paid to kill people. Then his genes had to go and get in the way. F***ing Cancer, just like his mother. Stryker couldn't have a defective mercenary on his team, didn't need somebody weak from illness slowing his operation down. So he'd basically been fired, but not before Stryker made him an offer. Said he could cure his cancer, could save him from his own body. Of course, "offer" is kind of deceiving. It's not as if Stryker was just going to let him leave. The question was just whether he would be a willing lab rat or not. He wanted to live. He was too fricken amazing to die like this. So now he was lying in a cell surrounded by mutants, some of whom he'd personally helped capture. Though no one seemed to particularly care. They were too worried about their own safety to waste energy on him.
So he was more than surprised when he was asked softly, "Hey, are you okay?" by the girl in the cage next to his. He didn't open his eyes or shift from his position lying flat on his back on the floor. He knew who each of the mutants in the cages was, and what they could do so there was no reason to waste energy to confirm what he already knew. The girl who had spoken was Emma Frost, not one of the mutants he'd personally helped capture. Her mutation was quite interesting; skin that could transmogrify into diamonds, as well as suspected unearthed telepathic and/or telekinetic abilities. From what she'd remembered she'd been pretty cute, but even the idea of a hot babe couldn't make him convince his body to move.
He'd been thrown in here a while ago, Creed smirking the entire time, when his health had begun to rapidly decline, and he'd become a liability. Since then he'd be systematically poked, prodded, injected with god knows what, and left to rot among those who hated him.
Now, though, this girl had attempted to initiate a conversation. He was pretty sure she was probably pissed, thinking he was ignoring her. He actually would've liked the human contact if he could've moved without his entire body feeling like it was going to shred to pieces. He might've been a mercenary who enjoyed the occasional mass murder, but he still liked civilized conversation with someone he might not end up killing every once in a while. He heard a "humphf" and the girl sit down next to the bars connecting their cages. So he was right; she did get pissed at being ignored.
He heard the door at the end of the hall rattle open, and two sets of feet file in. He wasn't sure but he thought he smelled Creed. His senses weren't quite as keen when they were clouded with pain. He didn't move as the door to the cage opened and one of the sets of feet walked in. As the people kneeled beside him he weakly opened his eyes to see Stryker empty a long syringe into his vein.
"Easy, now Wade. In just a little while the fun will really begin." The bastard. He'd never been afraid of Stryker, but right now he was basically helpless and he found himself dreading anything this man thought of as "fun." Yes, once upon a time he probably would've jumped at the chance to do anything like he guessed the man's definition of fun entailed, but being stuck in this cage dying had given him time to think. About how much it kinda sucked to be stuck under Stryker's thumb, and how it made him sick to picture Creed's leering face as he murdered innocent people.
'What the hell is happening to me?' he thought.
He let his eyes fall back closed, and soon Stryker and Creed made their way back out of the hall. He heard the other mutants shifting in their own cages, relaxing slightly when their tormenters made their way out. Again a hesitant voice sounded from the cell beside him, "What are they doing to you? Why did they put you in here?" The voice got stronger as she finished the sentence. He weakly opened his eyes shifting them to the right to see a slim blonde knelt down beside the bars with a determined look on her face.
He let his eyes close again, still not answering her. Even if he did feel he had the energy to answer her he didn't know if he would. There was something oddly thrilling about antagonizing her. Gave him something amusing to focus on instead of dwelling on his own suffering, and any distraction was welcome at this point. She made an annoyed sound, almost like a growl, strange for someone like her. He'd expect sounds like that from someone like Jimmy maybe, but not some hot young babe with such an aesthetically pleasing mutation. The reminded him; he wondered what Jimmy'd been up to. He kind of hoped the guy had found what he'd been looking for. They had never been particularly close when they'd both been a part of the program, but he'd definitely been easier to be around than his hygienically challenged older brother.
"Come on, there's no point ignoring me, we're all in the same boat. You're no better than me; you just got thrown in with the rest of us, didn't you?" She thought he wasn't answering her because he thought he was better than her? How much pride could a guy whose body was so weak and wracked with pain he couldn't move who'd been thrown into a cage to be pricked by a pin cushion by people who'd once been his comrades have? The thought actually almost made him crack a smile. Instead he decided he'd humor her slightly, though he didn't really know why. Why would he open up to her? But what the heck, he'd never been the most logical guy, anyway.
He forced his eyes open, and even slowly turned his head in her direction which turned out to be a bad idea which caused a spasm of pain to wrack his body. He groaned weakly, scrunching his eyes closed trying not to focus on the pain. He opened his eyes again panting slightly to see her watching him wide eyed. He actually mustered up the energy to smirk at her before closing his eyes again and trying to relax his tense muscles.
"Talking hurts," he said shortly, hoping she'd catch his drift and stop trying to get him to talk. He guessed she did because she didn't say anything else before he fallen into a restless sleep.