fourthwalled | Duplicity IC Inbox

[Good news. It's definitely not an aphro. That would piss him off. This? Just irritates and... kind of scares him.

He pushes his food away - and his juice, because who knows what it is. ]

What. Was. It. Wade?

[ Good news though: He absolutely cannot panic. Too fucking... drugged. ]

Sedative cocktail. Don't worry, I made sure it was the right amount based on weight. You're just going to take a nice long nap. Promise.

[That may not be any reassurance, as trusting that Wade Wilson could measure out the proper dosage medication for this sort of thing is dubious at best. He's starting to get up from the table to move closer to Scott, just in case he starts to fall out of his chair.]

I'll let any appointments you have at the gym know you can't make it today. They can wait.

[ He is not going to fall out of his chair. He is going to tip sideways into Wade, and let his eyes close behind his glasses. Some of it with relief. ]

When I wake up, we're going to talk about appropriate ways to express concern....

Whatever you say, Scott. [He grabs hold off him, steadying him and then moving to pick him up. Scott's a large man, but Wade's strong enough to lift him in a bridal carry without too much problem. Although it looks particularly ridiculous.] I look forward to your lectures, you know. It shows me you care.

[And this is Wade's way of showing he cared.]

[ The good news is that Wade isn't exactly short, and Scott's not ... light, but his nickname is Slim for a reason. He groans uncomfortably when he's picked up, because his spatial awareness is all fucked up, but he's too heavy and sleepy to really care. ]

Don't you dare leave me alone like this....

[ Resistance? Zero because he's trying to fight off passing out. ]

Want me to invite someone over to keep you company?

[As in someone he actually shares his bed with and not whatever it is they did on the couch that absolutely wasn't cuddling.]

What I want is to not get killed.

[ Congratulations. He is sedated. He's going to say shit he would not typically. He's also apparently going to miss implications. ]

Or have brain surgery.

[Whelp that isn't precisely helpful. Apparently it's just going to have to be Wade who keeps him company. Maybe it's for the best. Having to explain to someone else what he'd done might get a little awkward.

Still, what he is saying is curious.]

I can promise that neither of those things will happen while you're sleeping. I'll make sure of it...

[ It had better not, because there's not much Scott can do about it now, given that he is passing out.

And then passed out with the reassurance.

He will be staying that way for a damn long while. ]

[Wade carries him into his bedroom, careful not to bump his head in the doorway. Then he settles him into his bed, taking off his shoes, head on the pillow and pulling the blanket over him. He knows Scott doesn't like people messing with his face, but he does check that his glass are on properly and not skewed with all the carrying.

That done and Scott looking all snug as a bug, Wade stands assessing his work. He looks uncertain now. He's apparently staying in here with Scott now for as long as it takes for him to sleep off the sedative and hopefully get a decent rest. So he trots off quickly to grab a chair, a book, and a blanket of his own. The book is some random smut novel Wade had gotten from the library. He sets himself on the chair, blanket over himself, legs propped up on the bed, and settles in.]

[ Scott sleeps the first hour or two when he's the most sedated in exactly whatever position Wade left him in. Once he's slightly less unconscious he rolls over onto his stomach, arm trapped against his eyes and making sure his glasses are there and stay on.

Then he stays out for a few hours.

Once he starts coming around he doesn't initially move, but groans and- ]

I want to yell but if Jean finds out about this she'll send you flowers.

[Wade blinks up from the novel in his hands, apparently having been pretty engrossed. He's just a lover of the written word! Especially if that written word is werewolves fucking!

He sets the book down on Scott's nightstand.]

I do like flowers... how are you feeling?

Then put the request in yourself. I'm sure she'll oblige.

[ Not that he's told her they're contracted, but still.

He slowly braces one hand on the bed and rolls himself over onto his side, facing Wade. ]

I have a worse headache than usual but can't make myself care.

Okay, I will! [He's pulling out his communicator right then and shoot off a text. He looks up from his phone as he's texting.]

Well, I can assure you that no one operated on your brain while you were asleep. I made sure of it.

[ He isn't really surprised by Wade doing that, and even if he would have been otherwise-- ]

...did someone threaten to?

[Wade's legs slide off the bed and he sits up straighter.]

Um... no? You said you were worried about it before you passed out. So I promised you that I'd protect you.

[He might also have some feelings about unwanted operations and it's general proximity to his own experiences too. So there's that.]

[ Dammit Wilson. He is trying so hard not to get emotionally invested in anyone, then you go both drug him (what. the. fuck. no) and protect him while he sleeps. Maybe he should get you your own place so he can go back to not caring? ]

This is why we don't drug me, Wilson. [ He yawns and tries to sit up, though his body's still pretty heavy. ] Sinister used to... He was messed up. I will never get all those memories back and I don't want them, but Sinister was.... really invested in my brain when I was a kid.

Oh. [He does manage to look remorseful after hearing that.] I was just trying to help. I didn't mean to stir up bad memories. Maybe start sleeping and I won't have to resort to such extreme measures!

[See, this is completely your fault, Scott.]

...you didn't shot up bad memories. [ [apparently he has to be honest if Wade seems sad, dammit]. ] I just wouldn't have asked you made you babysit me if I hadn't been insentient!

And don't drug me, anyway! I don't need that much sleep, and I had things to do.

Edited 2022-03-22 11:23 (UTC)

Don't need much sleep? Please. We're you getting any sleep at all?

[Wade scoffs grabbing the smut novel he'd been reading and chucks it at Scott.]

What things did you have to do? Gathering your army for the revolution or whatever the fuck it is you're doing? Your plotting will go much better without the sleep deprivation, I'm sure.

[ ...It's Scotthe manages to evade the book more than catch it but quickly picks it up and flings it like a frisbee and with force toward Wade's nose.

They're mature. ]

If I hadn't slept in the past month, I would be dead. [ Which is not the worst thing and okay fine he's seriously not sleeping much. As for whatever the fuck he's doing? He doesn't know. Gathering information. It makes him feel useful, okay? Does he look shifty? Not really. Is he? Yes. You know because he's not responding to that bit..]

Ack! [The book smacks him right in the face and he sputters. He never really put much effort into dodging attacks, be them in the form of books or bullets. He gives Scott a positively petulant look after that.]

Okay fine, but you can't tell me you're not running on fumes! I've been sleep deprived before, but it wasn't by choice! [One of the many tortures Francis tried on him.]

[ He stares when the book hits and is usually annoyed by that. Learn to dodge, asshole, even if you're missing a desire to live. ]

I was tired. I appreciate the sentiment and the sleep. I am less thrilled that you drugged me. I'll get over it.

I mean, I could have put you in a sleeper hold, but that wouldn't have lasted as long and you would have tried to stop me...

[It would have been a whole thing.]

But, you're welcome.

[ Of all the things to get really pissy about-- ]

I would have tried to stop you?

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