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Cable floated, dazed, the familiar feeling of zero g tugging at his stomach. He opened his eyes, squinting in the blinding glare of the sun peaking over the blue marble curve of the Earth. Around him the shattered remains of a scuttled spacecraft drifted, most of the remaining chunks so damaged they were barely recognizable. They turned slowly, silhouetted by the soft blue glow of sunlight filtering through the atmosphere of the planet below. Nothing but jetsam on the Earth's clogged orbital highways.
Cable lifted his hand, looking at it through the thick, fishbowl plexiglass of his helmet. He wore a grey and orange space suit, no markings of any kind as far as he could tell. Floating among the remains of a craft that had been smashed like a glass on tile...what was he doing in space? He couldn't remember—his thoughts were sluggish, foggy. Clogged with white noise. Concussion, maybe, from the explosion? He couldn't be sure.
"Holy stranded-in-space, Batman," a familiar, Demi Moore voice crackled over the radio in Cable's helmet, and he couldn't help but let out an audible groan. Deadpool. Of course.
"Well, nice to see you too, Arnold," Wade said. "Do you mind using your super-soldier-from-the-future skills to stop me from, uuh, flying wildly through the void? Getting a little--" Cable winced as Wade made a gross, choking sound into his microphone "--ugh, seasick. Never been in space before."
"Great," Cable muttered, and glanced around the wreckage, looking for another orange-and-grey form. He spotted Waid a couple meters above him, spinning wildly out of control, limbs flailing and knocking debris everywhere. If Nate could've pinched his nose in exasperation, he would have.
"Hold still," Nate said. "You're just wasting oxygen flailing around like a fool."
"No shit, Sherlock," Wade retorted. "This isn't exactly my idea of a relaxing day at the spa." But, despite his complaining, Wade stopped moving. Cable gathered up what was left of his umbilical cord and pushed past the fog in his mind long enough to give himself a telekinetic nudge in Wade's direction. He drifted forward and grabbed Wade's boot. Cable's tangential trajectory was enough to slow Wade's spinning to a gentle rotation.
"Thank mutant Jesus," Wade said. "I'm not gonna throw up in my fish bowl."
"Take this and tie it around your waist," Cable said, holding out his umbilical cord. Wade's was entirely torn off.
"Aw, you really do care," Wade said, taking the cable and feeding it awkwardly around his space suit. "Ooh, which knot should I use? Half hitch? Bow line? OMG, I just realized, we're in a fanfiction. This means I get to make jokes about knotting."
"Just give it to me," Cable said, tired of watching Wade struggle with his clunky spacesuit gloves. He took the cable, tied it around Wade, and gave himself another telekinetic nudge. The line pulled taught between them, as Nate drifted towards one of the larger pieces of wreckage.
"What am I, your screaming-toddler-on-a-kiddie-leash?"
"You put leashes on your children?" Nate knew perfectly well what a kiddie leash was. A soft smile tugged at his lips.
"It's like those leashes white suburban moms put on their tiny dogs, but for--" Wade cut himself off, letting out a startled gasp. "Oh my God, Arnie, did you make a joke? For me? We should get stranded in space together more often."
"You're a dumbass."
"Good one. Wait, are we still joking?"
Cable didn't reply. He grabbed onto the piece of debris they were drifting toward and braced his knees against it. He pulled back a piece of metal mesh, looking for anything in the compartment inside that might identify the craft. It was a cabin, with standard issue sleeping rigs that could've been from any spacefaring country on Earth. There was a still-sealed interior hatch on the opposite wall, now leading to nothing but cold void. No identifying marks on the walls. No personal effects or packs next to the harnesses. Nothing to indicate anyone had lived here for any length of time, despite the fact that the spacecraft seemed to be equipped for extended periods of time in zero g.
"Is it just your frosty personality, or is it getting colder up here?" Wade asked. He made a show of vigorously rubbing the arms of his spacesuit.
"It is," Cable said. "Our suits are probably running out of fuel. No telling how long we've been up here." Cable hesitated, squinting at a brass plate mounted in one corner of the room. There was something written on it, but when he tried to read it the buzzing in his head rose to a roar. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate.
"Well, can't say I predicted that one," Wade said. "Maybe when they find my body floating in space and thaw me out the last Kingkiller Chronicles'll book be published."
"Wade--"
"I'd like to see you try staking out the hideout of a drug lord for 18 hours with nothing to do but hum show tunes and scratch your balls. I can't be blamed for my reading habits."
"Wade."
"What?"
"Please shut the fuck up."
"Sorry, no can do bub, it's not on my character sheet," Wade said, but fell silent despite himself. Nate allowed himself a (hopefully inaudible) sigh of relief. He tried to concentrate, reach past the fog in his mind with his telepathy. He could feel the vague edges of the yammering, technicolor static that was Wade's mind, but nothing else. It was as if his senses had been muted. He couldn't feel the familiar, black loneliness of space he knew should be there. Wade's mind should feel like a bonfire blazing in the darkness, even though he couldn't decipher it.
"Do you remember how we got here?" Cable asked.
"Memory isn't exactly my forte, if you catch my drift," As he spoke, Wade kicked off the wall closest to him and bumped gently into Cable, sending him helmet first into the plate he'd been examining a few minutes before. "Get it--"
"Yes, Wade, I get it," Cable said, pushing Wade off him. "I can't remember, either."
"Well, this is a pretty obvious trope, even for fanfiction," Wade said. "Our heroes are mysteriously stranded in space. They're running low on oxygen, even lower on original dialogue. One wastes their precious few breaths to profess their undying love, but tragically they pass out from oxygen deprivation before the object of their affection can reciprocate. Yadda, yadda, yadda." Wade was upside down, relative to Cable's position, and grinning broadly up at him through the mask. Why he'd felt it necessary to wear that thing in space, Cable couldn't fathom. "But as to how we physically got here? Not a fucking clue. Space X? Nah, nobody has the budget for that. What about that guy who built a rocket in his back yard to prove the world is flat? He seems like he knows what he's doing--"
"You're right about one thing."
"Wait, I am?"
"We're wasting air," Cable said. "Let me think."
"Kind of you to imply I'm anything other than a waste of air," Wade said, a hard edge to his voice that hadn't been there a few seconds before.
"Wade--" Cable shot him a warning look.
"No, seriously. You should just take my oxygen tank and pull some crazy shit and save yourself."
"Wade, that's not an option," Cable said. "I'm not leaving you up here alone." Nate thought of all the fallen comrades—freedom fighters, Clan Chosen, revolutionaries; people trying to keep their homes safe—he had witnessed die, totally out of his reach. Well, he could reach Wade, and he wasn't about to let him go.
Wade floated in silence for a few seconds, his expression unreadable behind the mask. Nate wished more than anything that he could see Wade's face. That there wasn't a meter or so's worth of vacuum and two space suits between them. He'd never had time to contemplate the specifics of how he might die, but he'd always assumed it would be in battle. Alone. He wasn't going to let Wade die like that.
"Thanks," Wade said. "I guess? Sorry, I’m not too good with the whole. People sacrificing themselves for me. Thing.”
“It’s okay, Wade.” I understand better than you know. Cable grabbed the line connecting them and pulled them together. They wrapped their arms around each other, drifting gently into the stark, black shadow of the destroyed cabin. Even though Cable could barely feel Wade through the thick layers of their space suits, it was enough. Nate let out a soft sigh, grateful that Wade didn't protest.
“How long do you think we’ve got?” Wade asked.
“A couple minutes, maybe less.” Cable said. He pushed at the fog in his mind again, hoping against hope he would feel something—someone, anyone. But nothing answered his telepathic distress call but white noise, and the bright chaos that was Wade’s mind. Cable had felt something like this before, he wondered if maybe—
Maybe they weren’t stranded, after all.
“Well, shit,” Wade said, snapping Cable out of his thoughts.
“Pretty much,” Cable said. “I want you to know something.”
“What?"
"My name," Nate said. "It's Nathan. We've been working together for months, and I never told you. I'm sorry."
"Oh, thanks,” Wade stopped talking, and for one long, horrifying moment, Nate thought he might’ve died, but— “Really? Nathan? That seems so…mundane, for a guy from the future and all. I figured it would be something like, I don’t know, Mxzysptlk. I guess I shouldn’t have expected much from a guy named after a wire. I mean, seriously, was Socket taken?”
“Wade, please,” Cable sighed. “You make everything so difficult.”
“Aaaw, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me,” Wade quipped back, not missing a beat.
“Jesus fuck.”
“That mouth, my goodness.” Wade hesitated. “But really. I’m glad…I’m glad your ‘have gun, will time travel’ ass dropped into my life when it did. You gave me a purpose when I was ready to throw in the towel.”
“I could say the same about you,” Cable said. “Annoying as you are.”
“He likes me,” Wade said. “I take everything I said about your stupid future fanny pack back.”
“Utility bag.”
“Sure, sweetie.” They floated in silence for a few more seconds. Cable could feel his lungs starting to burn. His breathing grew labored and broken. Wade seemed similarly affected, but that didn’t stop him from babbling nonsense to the bitter end.
“Gotta…use…my….Shatner voice,” Wade gasped. “Boy…dying…sure takes…forever…doesn’t it. This is…bad…is this…what normal…people…feel like…when they die?”
“Wade,” Cable managed, nearly blacking out from the effort it took to pull that syllable from his chest.
“What?”
“Shut up.”
Nate faded, every cell in his body screaming for oxygen. The techno-organic virus bubbled and writhed, sending shocks of pain through his shoulder, as his concentration began to falter. It wouldn’t let him rest, even in death. Nate closed his eyes, waiting—praying for the pain to end. Some small part of him hoped this was it. That he wouldn’t have to fight anymore. That he was wrong about where they really were. But as the world faded to black around him, he knew he wasn’t. He never was.
---
Nate woke to his own cries of pain. He sat bolt upright, his right hand wrapped around his TO arm, for what good it did. He wrestled to regain his concentration, seeing stars as the room spun around him. The TO fought back against his telekinesis. He felt it crawling down his back, across his chest, burning. Like snakes under his skin. Eating him alive.
When he finally got it under control, he was completely out of breath and curled in a fetal ball on the floor. Wade swam into focus somewhere above him. He patted Cable's face gently with one hand, attempting to pull him back to reality.
“Don’t die,” Wade said. “Please don’t die. Please, please.”
“Not dead,” Cable muttered. He pushed himself back into a sitting position, every muscle aching and protesting. He could barely move.
They were in some sort of cell. The walls were covered in smooth, white tiles, of some manufactured material Cable couldn’t place. A round fixture in the center of the ceiling buzzed faintly but emitted no light. The room was lit by a few thin ropes of lights embedded in the floor.
“Oh, thank God,” Wade said, his face lighting up with a relieved smile. Cable was equally relieved to see him without the mask—being able to see Wade’s pockmarked face and meet his yellow gaze lifted a weight from his chest. “I thought you were donezo there for a minute. I mean, not when we died in space donezo, but for realsies this time. That…uuh…your arm?”
“I’ll explain later,” Nate said. “Help me up.” Wade had to practically lift Nate to his feet. Wade started to put Nate’s TO arm over his shoulder, but stopped short when Nate winced. Moving it sent a sharp knife of pain through Nate’s chest. Seeing the worried look on Wade’s face, he put his good hand on Wade’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.
“I’m alright,” Cable said. “This is normal.”
“Like, my-entire-body-is-consumed-by-raging-cancer normal,” Wade said, tapping the side of his head with his finger. “Gotcha.”
Nate grunted in agreement. The similarities between them, despite their stark differences, weren’t lost on him.
“So, what happened?” Wade said. “One minute I’m about to be turned into an ice cube a million miles above the Earth, the next I’m standing in…the holodeck?”
“Some sort of telepathic projector,” Cable said. “We must’ve gotten trapped in here. We were…” He hesitated, waiting for his memory to recover. They were standing inside an abandoned Weapon X facility, just south of the Canadian border. They’d been sent to investigate—and disable—anything that remained, by the X-Men. Wade had said yes before Colossus could even finish explaining the mission to him. And, for some reason, spray painted FUCK YOU FRANCIS on anything in the facility with a big enough surface. Yeah, Cable remembered.
“Well, I’m gonna go ahead and solve this problem,” Wade said. He drew a pistol and fired into the fixture. It shattered like glass and spat a few faint sparks, leaving them with eerie silence and the smell of gunpowder and burning metal.
“Jesus,” Cable said. “Warn me next time?”
“Definitely will not remember to do that,” Wade said. He marched out of the room, Cable following close behind, still steadying himself on Wade’s shoulder. They made their way back to the surface, Cable checking the explosives they’d placed on their way in as they went. Wade flipped off whatever anthropomorphic image of Weapon X lived in his head every time he passed an open doorway. They didn’t speak until they were well outside the blast zone, standing in deep snow, looking down at the dark, unassuming tunnel that lead into the mountainside and the bunker beyond.
“So, I really thought we were going to die in space,” Wade said. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Cable said, surprising himself with his own honesty. “Well, I had a hunch. I’ve been in simulations like that before. They’re designed to test a soldier’s resolve in the face of certain death.”
“Oh,” Wade said. “Well, this is awkward.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Cable said.
“Nah, pretty sure it’s going to continue being awkward,” Wade said. “It’s just my default state of existence.”
“Please, just make this easy, for once in your goddamned life,” Cable said. “Before I change my mind.”
“Change your mind about wha—”
Before Wade could say anything else, Cable pulled him in close, and kissed him. Wade’s lips were rough and warm, almost feverish. Nate didn’t want to break away, but he did when he realized Wade was shaking.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“Y-yeah,” Wade said. “Jesus, warn me next time.”
“I’m sorry—” Nate started, but Wade cut him off.
“No, it’s fine,” Wade said. “One of us had to take some initiative, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me. Now, shall we blow this bunker to kingdom come?”
Cable wordlessly held out the trigger. Wade took it, a look of childish delight spreading over his face. He flipped the switch. Muffled explosions shook the ground under their feet. Fire and ash spilled from the tunnel in the mountainside as it collapsed. Wade’s shout of FUCK YOU FRANCIS! was barely audible over the booming of C4 and tumbling rock. Cable turned and started to make his way down the hillside, towards the thick stand of pines where they’d parked the snowmobiles. Wade stood looking down at the now-clogged tunnel for a few seconds, as if to make sure it wasn’t going to spontaneously reassemble itself.
He caught up with Nate just as he reached the tree line. “So, Nate, huh?”
“Yep,” Cable said.
“No last name? Title? Rank? Cutesy childhood nickname?”
“Several.”
“Let me guess—you’ll explain later?”
“Only if you promise to tell me who Francis is,” Nate said.
"Deal."