Visiting Hours
Deadpool had walked into the hospital and been shunned out faster than he could say chimichanga. Then he stormed back in with his swords and weapons on show and demanded to see Bob. Only to be hesitantly informed that he’d been checked out very recently and had gone home. Ushering an apology and, somewhat ashamedly, leaving, Deadpool tried and failed to catch a cab. Considering his recent botched mission for Weasel, this didn’t surprise him.
After walking for, what seemed like forever, Wade arrived at Bob’s home and reluctantly knocked on the door. He assumed Bob had seen the news, and didn’t know if he even wanted to be associated with him anymore. Was Bob married? Yes. He remembered that, maybe turning up at his home wasn’t such a good idea after all. Debating whether or not to leave he stood for a moment on the doorstep.
Bob was still curled up on the floor, he had fallen in and out of sleep, his condition forcing him into it. Every time he woke up and opened his eyes the pain started all over again. His subconscious brain couldn’t comprehend the situation he was in. The fact that his family had been murdered was unacceptable. He just…couldn’t face it. As time passed and the sun went down the scene become even more gruesome, but somehow easier. In the dark it looked more like a horror film. He was trying to trick his brain into denying what his eyes were telling him. He was back at the hospital watching a movie. He was back at the hospital watching a movie. It will be over soon.
He was back at the hospital watching a movie.
It will be over soon.
He was back at the hospital watching a movie.
It will be over soon.
Bob didn’t hear the knock on the door. He wouldn’t have cared if he did. It was nothing important compared to what he was seeing. Nothing could help him now.
He stood on the doorstep for what felt like an eternity, the wind was blowing past and catching on his suit, the sun glaring down on him like that one angry teacher you wish you never had. His toes drummed against the sole of his boot, arms folded across his chest and mind went through various scenarios. A few seconds had passed and Wade turned to look back at the street; cars zooming past, civilians hurrying their children from his presence. Maybe he shouldn’t have come.
Then his knuckles rapped against the wood again and he opened his mouth, brain struggling to find words for a moment. “Bob?” He eventually managed to say, the word spilling out in that familiar mix of gravel and gasoline. “It’s.. it’s Mister Wilson. I didn’t get round to seeing you at the hospital ‘til now. You in there?”
Bob could faintly heard more knocking and talking coming from outside his house. He had stopped crying at this point. He had no more tears to let out. Maybe it was dehydrated. He stayed still for a while, wondering whether he should answer the door. He pushed himself to his feet, tearing his eyes away from his family. He stumbled down the hallway to the front door. His lack of food, water and physical health making it extremely difficult to manage.
Bob reached the door, the act barely registering in his brain. All his thoughts focused on his family. Opening the door wide-eyed and haunted looking he stared blankly at the man in front of him before speaking. “…Oh, hello Mr Wilson. Come in.” Bob turned away leaving the door open, his eyes fixing back onto the scene at the end of the hallway, he stumbled back towards it.
Wade had stood on the porch for around about five minutes in total, the sun staring down at him, challenging him to leave or get inside which were the only two choices available to him. It was an odd contrast, the hushed whispers of people judging were carried by the wind which blew cool air onto his body which was warming up considerably under the sun.
Then the door opened, Bob’s look set him back. The expressionless look on his face secured that coming here this afternoon was a terrible mistake. Then he spoke and simply.. turned away. Bob’s body language was off, was it the injury? He didn’t know, then his eyes shifted to the crimson at the end of the hall. The stench. Wade didn’t know what it was, but he moved inside, shutting the door behind him, warily approaching Bob. “What.. what’s happened here?”
Bob’s mind was prepared for this. The last thing he needed was to be dragged on a mission with Mr Wilson. He just kept stumbling forward, trying to go back to his family…what was left of his family. His memories of his wife and children filling his mind. His engagement. His wedding. Birth of his boys. Each memory a stabbing pain in his chest. He looked back as Deadpool approached him. Anguish washing over his blank face. Thinking about this was one thing but saying it?
Bob opened his mouth, trying to find the words. How can he explain what had happened? His wife and children were killed in a surprise attack by his best friends enemy in an attempt to hurt him. It hurt that it wasn’t even to do with Bob. The monster only considered Bob and his family pawns in his vendetta against Deadpool. His life, the lives of his family meant nothing to him. Bob repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, desperately seeking the words to explain this. Giving up he shook his heard, nothing but a sob escaping his lips. He pointed to his bedroom, and started to sob uncontrollably, slumping to the ground.
Deadpool wasn’t sure what to say, he stepped toward the end of the hall after Bob with heavy footsteps. He didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see what his mind was telling him had happened. The smell was familiar, yet it invaded his nostrils like a hostile force, attacking his senses in unrelenting waves as each step took him closer to the horrifying sight which lay in wait. Bob’s silence worried him, but his own silence shook him to the core. His mouth was dry, hanging open slightly beneath the fabric of his mask as he looked for alternatives to what he assumed had happened.
Wade’s attention turned to Bob, whose mouth was opening and closing, not able to find the words. He knew how that felt, he couldn’t either. As Bob fell to the ground, Deadpool stood for a second or two, completely unsure how to react. A small sound escaped from the back of his throat but there was no meaning, no way of comforting Bob. He didn’t know how. Instead he crouched down, placed a hand on his shoulder and moved off almost as soon as he did so. Wade needed to see what had happened.
He slowly moved into the room and instantly winced, his eyes flinching closed at the grisly sight. Deadpool knew instantly who had done this. It had been almost a month but this had certainly happened and his fingerprints were all over this. Wade’s jaw clenched shut. Wade’s hand balled into a fist and he began to tremble, not allowing himself to ignore this.. outrage. This desecration of Bob’s family. His friend’s family. They had been crudely displayed as a message, a message to Deadpool that he was still out there. And he was coming for him.
Wade swallowed a breath he was subconsciously holding and left the room. Left it and had no intention of returning. The mercenary sat next to his friend, this was the second time he’d seen him without the HYDRA get-up, and truth be told, it would only ever hold terrible memories from here on out. His head rested back against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest, forearms resting on them. He let out a long breath, calming himself enough to speak with something but pure hatred. “I.. you can’t.. I..” His words faltered. “You can’t know how.. how sorry I am.” He managed to say, his voice quiet, head hanging down now. “Sorry isn’t even.. it’s not a strong enough word.” Wade couldn’t look at Bob, this was his fault, he poisoned and corrupted everything he touched. Ruined the worlds of his friends, associates. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end, supposed to be. “There isn’t a way to make this right.” He admitted to himself more than anything, surely Bob knew that. “I’ll get him. I’ll avenge them, I’ll do what I can.”
Bob just nodded, he wasn’t prepared to think too much right now. “I should probably call the police, huh? They could…get T-Ray…” Bob trailed off, knowing T-Ray wouldn’t be stopped by simple Police forces. “Thanks for visiting Mr Wilson…” It was all he could do to keep up appearances. He had no idea what to do with his life now. His family is everything…was everything. He just sat and waited on his friend to leave.
Visiting Hours
Deadpool had walked into the hospital and been shunned out faster than he could say chimichanga. Then he stormed back in with his swords and weapons on show and demanded to see Bob. Only to be hesitantly informed that he’d been checked out very recently and had gone home. Ushering an apology and, somewhat ashamedly, leaving, Deadpool tried and failed to catch a cab. Considering his recent botched mission for Weasel, this didn’t surprise him.
After walking for, what seemed like forever, Wade arrived at Bob’s home and reluctantly knocked on the door. He assumed Bob had seen the news, and didn’t know if he even wanted to be associated with him anymore. Was Bob married? Yes. He remembered that, maybe turning up at his home wasn’t such a good idea after all. Debating whether or not to leave he stood for a moment on the doorstep.
Bob was still curled up on the floor, he had fallen in and out of sleep, his condition forcing him into it. Every time he woke up and opened his eyes the pain started all over again. His subconscious brain couldn’t comprehend the situation he was in. The fact that his family had been murdered was unacceptable. He just…couldn’t face it. As time passed and the sun went down the scene become even more gruesome, but somehow easier. In the dark it looked more like a horror film. He was trying to trick his brain into denying what his eyes were telling him. He was back at the hospital watching a movie. He was back at the hospital watching a movie. It will be over soon.
He was back at the hospital watching a movie.
It will be over soon.
He was back at the hospital watching a movie.
It will be over soon.
Bob didn’t hear the knock on the door. He wouldn’t have cared if he did. It was nothing important compared to what he was seeing. Nothing could help him now.
He stood on the doorstep for what felt like an eternity, the wind was blowing past and catching on his suit, the sun glaring down on him like that one angry teacher you wish you never had. His toes drummed against the sole of his boot, arms folded across his chest and mind went through various scenarios. A few seconds had passed and Wade turned to look back at the street; cars zooming past, civilians hurrying their children from his presence. Maybe he shouldn’t have come.
Then his knuckles rapped against the wood again and he opened his mouth, brain struggling to find words for a moment. “Bob?” He eventually managed to say, the word spilling out in that familiar mix of gravel and gasoline. “It’s.. it’s Mister Wilson. I didn’t get round to seeing you at the hospital ‘til now. You in there?”
Bob could faintly heard more knocking and talking coming from outside his house. He had stopped crying at this point. He had no more tears to let out. Maybe it was dehydrated. He stayed still for a while, wondering whether he should answer the door. He pushed himself to his feet, tearing his eyes away from his family. He stumbled down the hallway to the front door. His lack of food, water and physical health making it extremely difficult to manage.
Bob reached the door, the act barely registering in his brain. All his thoughts focused on his family. Opening the door wide-eyed and haunted looking he stared blankly at the man in front of him before speaking. “…Oh, hello Mr Wilson. Come in.” Bob turned away leaving the door open, his eyes fixing back onto the scene at the end of the hallway, he stumbled back towards it.
Wade had stood on the porch for around about five minutes in total, the sun staring down at him, challenging him to leave or get inside which were the only two choices available to him. It was an odd contrast, the hushed whispers of people judging were carried by the wind which blew cool air onto his body which was warming up considerably under the sun.
Then the door opened, Bob’s look set him back. The expressionless look on his face secured that coming here this afternoon was a terrible mistake. Then he spoke and simply.. turned away. Bob’s body language was off, was it the injury? He didn’t know, then his eyes shifted to the crimson at the end of the hall. The stench. Wade didn’t know what it was, but he moved inside, shutting the door behind him, warily approaching Bob. “What.. what’s happened here?”
Bob’s mind was prepared for this. The last thing he needed was to be dragged on a mission with Mr Wilson. He just kept stumbling forward, trying to go back to his family…what was left of his family. His memories of his wife and children filling his mind. His engagement. His wedding. Birth of his boys. Each memory a stabbing pain in his chest. He looked back as Deadpool approached him. Anguish washing over his blank face. Thinking about this was one thing but saying it?
Bob opened his mouth, trying to find the words. How can he explain what had happened? His wife and children were killed in a surprise attack by his best friends enemy in an attempt to hurt him. It hurt that it wasn’t even to do with Bob. The monster only considered Bob and his family pawns in his vendetta against Deadpool. His life, the lives of his family meant nothing to him. Bob repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, desperately seeking the words to explain this. Giving up he shook his heard, nothing but a sob escaping his lips. He pointed to his bedroom, and started to sob uncontrollably, slumping to the ground.
Visiting Hours
Deadpool had walked into the hospital and been shunned out faster than he could say chimichanga. Then he stormed back in with his swords and weapons on show and demanded to see Bob. Only to be hesitantly informed that he’d been checked out very recently and had gone home. Ushering an apology and, somewhat ashamedly, leaving, Deadpool tried and failed to catch a cab. Considering his recent botched mission for Weasel, this didn’t surprise him.
After walking for, what seemed like forever, Wade arrived at Bob’s home and reluctantly knocked on the door. He assumed Bob had seen the news, and didn’t know if he even wanted to be associated with him anymore. Was Bob married? Yes. He remembered that, maybe turning up at his home wasn’t such a good idea after all. Debating whether or not to leave he stood for a moment on the doorstep.
Bob was still curled up on the floor, he had fallen in and out of sleep, his condition forcing him into it. Every time he woke up and opened his eyes the pain started all over again. His subconscious brain couldn’t comprehend the situation he was in. The fact that his family had been murdered was unacceptable. He just…couldn’t face it. As time passed and the sun went down the scene become even more gruesome, but somehow easier. In the dark it looked more like a horror film. He was trying to trick his brain into denying what his eyes were telling him. He was back at the hospital watching a movie. He was back at the hospital watching a movie. It will be over soon.
He was back at the hospital watching a movie.
It will be over soon.
He was back at the hospital watching a movie.
It will be over soon.
Bob didn’t hear the knock on the door. He wouldn’t have cared if he did. It was nothing important compared to what he was seeing. Nothing could help him now.
He stood on the doorstep for what felt like an eternity, the wind was blowing past and catching on his suit, the sun glaring down on him like that one angry teacher you wish you never had. His toes drummed against the sole of his boot, arms folded across his chest and mind went through various scenarios. A few seconds had passed and Wade turned to look back at the street; cars zooming past, civilians hurrying their children from his presence. Maybe he shouldn’t have come.
Then his knuckles rapped against the wood again and he opened his mouth, brain struggling to find words for a moment. “Bob?” He eventually managed to say, the word spilling out in that familiar mix of gravel and gasoline. “It’s.. it’s Mister Wilson. I didn’t get round to seeing you at the hospital ‘til now. You in there?”
Bob could faintly heard more knocking and talking coming from outside his house. He had stopped crying at this point. He had no more tears to let out. Maybe it was dehydrated. He stayed still for a while, wondering whether he should answer the door. He pushed himself to his feet, tearing his eyes away from his family. He stumbled down the hallway to the front door. His lack of food, water and physical health making it extremely difficult to manage.
Bob reached the door, the act barely registering in his brain. All his thoughts focused on his family. Opening the door wide-eyed and haunted looking he stared blankly at the man in front of him before speaking. “…Oh, hello Mr Wilson. Come in.” Bob turned away leaving the door open, his eyes fixing back onto the scene at the end of the hallway, he stumbled back towards it.
Visiting Hours
Deadpool had walked into the hospital and been shunned out faster than he could say chimichanga. Then he stormed back in with his swords and weapons on show and demanded to see Bob. Only to be hesitantly informed that he’d been checked out very recently and had gone home. Ushering an apology and, somewhat ashamedly, leaving, Deadpool tried and failed to catch a cab. Considering his recent botched mission for Weasel, this didn’t surprise him.
After walking for, what seemed like forever, Wade arrived at Bob’s home and reluctantly knocked on the door. He assumed Bob had seen the news, and didn’t know if he even wanted to be associated with him anymore. Was Bob married? Yes. He remembered that, maybe turning up at his home wasn’t such a good idea after all. Debating whether or not to leave he stood for a moment on the doorstep.
Bob was still curled up on the floor, he had fallen in and out of sleep, his condition forcing him into it. Every time he woke up and opened his eyes the pain started all over again. His subconscious brain couldn’t comprehend the situation he was in. The fact that his family had been murdered was unacceptable. He just…couldn’t face it. As time passed and the sun went down the scene become even more gruesome, but somehow easier. In the dark it looked more like a horror film. He was trying to trick his brain into denying what his eyes were telling him. He was back at the hospital watching a movie. He was back at the hospital watching a movie. It will be over soon.
He was back at the hospital watching a movie.
It will be over soon.
He was back at the hospital watching a movie.
It will be over soon.
Bob didn’t hear the knock on the door. He wouldn’t have cared if he did. It was nothing important compared to what he was seeing. Nothing could help him now.
Leaving the Hospital.
It had been a while since Bob had been attacked by T-Ray. It was a horrifying memory. Deadpool’s Arch-Nemesis was back. And he knew who Bob was. Knew him well enough to have been waiting for him in his own home. Bob had only known that kind of fear once before. When he was being terrified by Zombies and Brother Voodoo…which was actually during their last encounter with T-Ray. He had been beaten and left to die in his own home, walking up later in the hospital. He was on his way home finally. He was to be looked after at home by specialists, his wounds just well enough to allow him to be out of the hospital but not well enough for him to be on his own.
Bob looked out the taxi window, a small smile appearing on his face. While he was still afraid of T-Ray, knowing he was still out there, he couldn’t help but be happy at returning home. He hadn’t seen his wife and children for too long. His wife Alison was a nice woman, a little crabby but she loved him. His two beautiful sons Terry and Howie would be happy to see him. They’d have lots of stories from school which he couldn’t wait to hear. They were good boys. They weren’t the smartest in the world but they were bright. They’d make him proud. Maybe even becomes Doctors or something he could never have aspired to. His smile broadened at the thought. Yeah, they’re going to be great.
They reached his house, Bob being helped out of the taxi by the driver. His wife would have dinner on the table by this time. He couldn’t wait, hospital food is not tasty. Maybe she roasted pork today, Bob thought idly. Walking to the door he turned the handle, walking into his home. He stopped immediately after closing the door. His blood, from the T-Ray attack was still on the floor. Why wouldn’t Alison have cleaned that up? That’s not something he wants his kids seeing. He walked as briskly as he could, calling out to his wife. “Alison! Alison! Maybe she’s out…but Terry and Howie would be back from school by now.” He walked back to his bedroom, going to lie down and wait for his family to come back. He was told not to be on his feet too much for the next few weeks at least. Opening the door he stood, horrified. There was his wife. Also his two little boys. They were nailed to the wall…dismembered and nailed to the wall. Bob crashed to his knees openly weeping. He couldn’t take his eyes from the sight. His boys. They were his pride and joy. He wont get to see them graduate…wont get to see them play baseball for the first time. Bob fell sideways curled in a ball, his eyes fixed on the scene and tears streaming down his face.
If you want to cull the herd, you pick on the weak…
T-Ray sat in a high back leather chair. He had fallen out of touch with Deadpool in recent years. He had been busy with the Mystical Realms. But now he was free to do as he pleased. What he wanted was revenge. Deadpool and he had parted on neutral terms. But years spent alone in thought re-ignited the anger he had for the man. He knew enough about how to deal with him. He was playing hero again. How absurd. Deadpool is rotten inside. But he had managed to acquire some friends in the intervening time. He had also gained enough confidence in himself to simply brush T-Ray aside as if he wasn’t a threat. T-ray smiled, a wicked teeth baring smile. This called for a demonstration. In his home T-Ray had pictures and Information lining the walls. Each wall containing information on each of Wade’s new friends. Picking one wasn’t a matter of who would hurt Wade the most. It was only to show just how far T-Ray has come in power. And the choice was made. A fun outing, beating around Wade’s ‘Friend’.
Bob. Former Agent of HYDRA, kidnapped by Wade and forced to be his minion. This would be like taking candy from a baby. Conjuring the magic to Teleport him to this man Bob’s location, T-Ray prepared himself for a most satisfactory evening.
Bob had gone to the store. He had been feeling rather useless lately. No longer working for HYDRA. Not having seen Mr Wilson, let alone went on a mission with him, in some time. Bob was starting to lose hope. He was terrified of the missions. Those life threatening situations Mr Wilson got him into were also the only source of excitement Bob had. He wasn’t even sure if Mr Wilson still liked him or wanted him around. Trudging along the streets to his home Bob pondered whether or not he had been replaced by someone new. He loved Mr Wilson. He was his best friend. But he understood that his position as a Superhero put his life in a whole different league to his. It was just hard to accept.
Entering his house, Bob turned to lock the door. Turning back around, he walked towards the kitchen to put away the groceries. He stood motionless in the doorway. Groceries falling from numb hands. T-Ray was there, in his kitchen peeling an orange. Bob wanted to run… but to where? He had locked himself in, and he was alone.
