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like you're satin in a coffin | travis+wade
[All in all, Travis Touchdown wasn't the sort for gainful 9-to-5 employment. There were only so many respectable gigs to be had in Santa Destroy--less so, with the city's economy in shambles post-UAA--and even those weren't paying half what they had compared to, say, two-three years ago? As reluctant as he was to admit it, there was only so long he'd be able to last on the leftovers of his old UAA days. Picking the old beam katana back up was going to happen sooner or later.
So why not sooner? And why not take out somebody big while he was at it, too?
One thing led to another and after way too goddamn long he got a hit. Some mob thing or whatever; like he could really afford to question it, especially not now that he'd jumped on board for sure. And lo and behold, here he is: still wearing the same old dorky t-shirt/jacket/jeans combo, still brandishing a light-up sword like an idiot and whacking a bunch of slower idiots with it. Straight up for cash now, though. Something about it doesn't sit right with him, and then he remembers:
It's just a job. The daily grind.
Travis grits his teeth, extricating his sword from some unfortunate sucker's skull.]
'Least I fought you head on. And didn't beat you to death with a baseball bat. [He chuckles, humorless, and moves down the hall in search of the real target.
He hates having to go back to this. But he's not good at much else nowadays.]
So why not sooner? And why not take out somebody big while he was at it, too?
One thing led to another and after way too goddamn long he got a hit. Some mob thing or whatever; like he could really afford to question it, especially not now that he'd jumped on board for sure. And lo and behold, here he is: still wearing the same old dorky t-shirt/jacket/jeans combo, still brandishing a light-up sword like an idiot and whacking a bunch of slower idiots with it. Straight up for cash now, though. Something about it doesn't sit right with him, and then he remembers:
It's just a job. The daily grind.
Travis grits his teeth, extricating his sword from some unfortunate sucker's skull.]
'Least I fought you head on. And didn't beat you to death with a baseball bat. [He chuckles, humorless, and moves down the hall in search of the real target.
He hates having to go back to this. But he's not good at much else nowadays.]
no subject
Thought I told you about the healing factor, Trav. Didn't... didn't you believe me? I got the invulnerability cheat code, remember?
[Little by little, he's gaining his strength back. He feels dizzy-- it's been a while since he's been wounded that badly. He attempts to get to his feet, only to slam harshly back down on his knee as his body informs him that it's not quite ready for that yet.]
Agh... Y'know, that little toy of yours really hurts. Good thing it doesn't cauterize when it cuts or I'd be in kind of deep trouble, huh?
no subject
[Which isn't a lie. He'd never really considered the physical toll that'd need to be taken before Wade's body healed itself--nor had he ever thought he'd be watching the guy die in front of him. Now that he knows what's going on, though, Travis gets to his feet and watches the other man's body slowly knit itself back together.]
No, it doesn't. Some kind of... science... thing...
[He trails off. A moment later, though, he's raising his voice again: he advances on Wade again with an accusing finger pointed straight at him.]
I don't know what you were trying to pull--you were egging me on! You wanted me to do it, and--
[And he HAD, without hesitation. His anger fades.]
I don't even know anymore. [He's ashamed and frustrated and relieved all at the same time. There is absolutely no way for him to reconcile all of these in a way that isn't yelling and stomping off, and he's too embarrassed now to make himself look like as big of a dumbass as he feels.
Wade saw him sitting there, moping an idiot.
He covers his face with his hands, shoulders hunched, and simply shakes his head.] You son of a bitch.
no subject
And is he ever giving Wade a show right now. Anger, humiliation, pain, betrayal... Wade can see it in every nuance of his face.
And it makes him feel terrible.
He staggers to his feet, swaying a little as a wave of vertigo momentarily throws him off balance. He takes a few tentative steps toward Travis and places his hands on the other man's shoulders.
It's strange-- suddenly he realizes how small Travis is compared to him, in height as well as in physique. It makes him look all the more vulnerable, though Travis certainly wouldn't take it as a compliment.]
Hey. Travis. [His voice is gentle; coaxing.] C'mon. Look at me.
no subject
He shoots an exasperated look up at Wade.]
What?
no subject
He's acting like Wade would have acted, had the roles been reversed. He almost wants to look away, but he steels himself and swallows hard.]
I'm sorry. Okay? I know I was an asshole and I forced you into this. It wasn't fair. But I saw you bust through that door and I just... I panicked. I knew it was going to be you or me, and I didn't think I could convince you to throw the fight. Not without Douchey McSchmuckface hearing and putting both of our careers in jeopardy.
I knew there was going to be only one outcome to this, so I just... took a third option. I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do.
no subject
Could've given me some kind of sign, at least. Or gone with a different plan. Couldn't you think of something else to do?
[All this shifting the blame onto Wade's getting away from what he's really concerned about. His voice lowers so that Wade'll miss it if he's not hanging onto his words closely enough.]
And I still did it without even thinking. Like an asshole.
[He looks away.]
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I'm not the best at plannin' things out, dude. You would've known that if you'd just read my comics. 'Course you probably would've known about my healing factor then, too.
[The chuckle fades and dies on his lips as his keen ears pick up on Travis's next words. He feels a sudden pain in his chest that has nothing to do with his healing wound-- obviously Travis is taking this much harder than he'd anticipated.]
Hey. Hey, come on.
[He searches Travis's face, trying to maintain eye contact with him.]
Don't beat yourself up over this. This was all me, okay? I put you in that situation. Fired you up and all that. Didn't give you a choice. You had every right to wanna get even, trust me. I don't fault you for being angry. Okay? I don't.
no subject
[He huffs. This is too much to think about right now--he just wants to go home and not ponder the rapidly widening gap between his actions and the sorry excuse he calls his morality.
Travis glances back at Wade, eyebrows furrowed together in a look of concern, before he gives a non-committal shrug and seems to finally let go. He won't fight this anymore.]
...All right, if you say so.
[Though he doesn't sound entirely convinced. At the very least, he's trying to shove those last lingering vestiges of doubt away.]
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Good. That's good. Now just hang on while I get some things in order here.
[He immediately turns on his heel and strides to the center of the room, bending down to pick up his swords and put them in their proper place in the scabbard at his back.]
Just gotta tie up one last loose end before we can get outta here, okay? BRB.
[Yes, Wade actually just said "BRB". He makes his way up the stairs and disappears into the office. Five minutes pass before he reemerges, taking each step lightly and looking entirely pleased with himself.]
Man, you really did a number on that dude in there, huh? I feel sorry for the poor saps who have to clean up that shit in the morning.
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It's all such a rapid shift from how somber everything'd been that he has to laugh, shaking his head.]
He deserved it, what can I say? [Jesus. What a weird guy.] Seriously, though... I'm done with this fucking place. Let's get out of here.
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Hey, I wasn't tryin' to slam on you, dude. Just wanted to say I was impressed with your work. Guy was a prick anyway. Why d'you think I hacked into his bank account just now?
[He doesn't even give Travis time to react to that, pulling out his cellphone and dialing a number. When the person on the other end picks up, he switches to Japanese.]
Hey, I'd like to place an order for delivery. Yeah, this is him. Is this Ren? Hey, dude! How's it goin'? You get the results for your entrance exams yet? Well, don't worry about it-- I'm sure you'll do fine. Listen, I was wondering if I could get the usual. Awesome, bro. You're the best. Oh, hang on.
[He covers the mouthpiece with one hand, switching back to English to address Travis in a stage whisper.]
Hey, what kind of Thai or Japanese food do you like?
no subject
[And sure enough, he doesn't have much time to do anything but continue to stare, his one raised eyebrow threatening to migrate up into his hairline.]
I don't really-- just a plain ol' bento, b-- are you seriously getting take-out right now?
[...He totally IS ordering take-out right now.
What.]
no subject
Yes, I am seriously getting take-out right now.
Losing about a pint of blood has the tendency to make you ravenous, going out to a restaurant in the state we're in now would probably cause a panic-- you're practically covered in bodily fluids, did you notice?-- and I just don't have the energy to cook right now. Besides, I figured we both deserve a celebratory dinner. My treat.
...So is a bento all you really want?
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Oh.]
I guess you got a point there. [But wait, celebratory dinner--] The hell are we celebrating, even, the fact that your superpowers still work?
And-- I dunno, sushi, I guess. I don't care.
[Again. This guy's way too weird (and way too quick with his words) for him to find any room to protest at all.]
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The fact that we didn't die, for one thing. The fact that you made good on your contract, for another. Aaaand the fact that I came outta this fifteen million dollars richer despite putting my client in the ground. I consider it severance pay for dealing with the pompous asshole.
[He puts the cell to his ear again.]
Ren? Sorry about that. What would you recommend to someone who's uh... indecisive? Curry? Sounds great. Put some sushi on that order, too. I dunno-- salmon, crab, tempura... surprise me. You got all that? Awesome. Fifteen minutes? Sounds good. See ya.
[He hangs up, sliding the cell back into one of the pouches at his belt.]
Okay, we're all set. Meet you at my apartment? We've got about fifteen minutes before the food gets there.
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You're shitting me. [Which he isn't, of course. Travis continues to watch Wade (and his unfairly perfect Japanese), dumbfounded, until he finally responds to him again.
He's never gonna get used to this. But why the fuck not.]
Y-yeah. Sure.
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Fifteen million, yup. Not a bad haul, I'd say. You gotta stop watchin' all that anime and start putting that dorky energy to good use, my man. Like learning how to be a decent hacker.
But hey, I'm glad you got enough sense to snap up a free dinner. It's a date, then. Don't be too late-- I might just rescind my offer and eat it all myself.
[He winks and offers Travis a nonchalant wave as he saunters out of room, hardly looking like a man who'd just made a rather large blood donation all over the carpet of an expensive hotel.]
1/2
Before Travis gets the opportunity to answer, or even snap back in defense of his hair, Wade's gone, entirely too springy in step. Hacker, assassin, actor, apparently smarter than he is. Apparently also cannot die.
What can't Deadpool do? God, he isn't sure if he wants to kill him again or-- or, er, something else entirely. Travis shakes his head. No, not good to dwell on this shit, or he'll go crazy. He waits a moment or two before he shoves his hands into his pockets and exits too.
If anything, this is interesting. God knows he prefers that to nothing at all.]
2/2
...a date?!