From across the hallway

Part 40

The weeks seemed to drift slowly by.

The snow disappeared and a warm spring breeze encouraged the spring blossoms to appear, pink and pretty.

But despite it being Wade Wilson's last spring to enjoy, he wasn't really in the mood to do so.

He walked down the street, dark-ringed eyes blinking heavily shut, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

He was tired....exhausted even, and all he knew was that he desperately needed a drink.

Shoving open the familiar red door to Weasel's bar, he headed inside, into the enveloping gloom.

The place was quiet, which was pretty usual for late afternoon on a Tuesday, with just a few regular's dotted here and there.

"Well if isn't Wade fucking Wilson," came Weasel's gravelly voice. "No offence dude, but you look like shit."

Wade forced a fake smile. "I feel like it too," he replied, strolling over and coming to lean up against the grimy bar.

Weasel gave Wade a lopsided grin, full of sympathy- which Wade of course, hated. He didn't want people feeling sorry for him.

Weasel automatically pulled down a grease streaked glass and opened a dusty bottle of whisky, pouring large glug of the brown liquor inside.

"On the house," said the barman with a sigh, his eyes on Wade's pale, gaunt face as the merc pulled his wallet from his pocket. "So no Emily or Missy today?"

Wade lowered his eyes as Weasel slid the drink towards him.

"Nah," uttered the merc, running a hand down his long face before swallowing down the whiskey in one. "I'm not letting them get involved in this fucking shit-show. They're both too perfect for that."

Weasel gave a frown.

"You mean you haven't fucking told them?" he spluttered in shock. "Fuck me, man....that's just messed up."

A line appeared between Wade's brows.

It had been weeks since he had seen Missy or Emily. He had kept his distance, not wanting them to see him like this. And after the last time they had spoken, he doubted either of them would ever want to see him again anyway.

They were too good for him and he knew it.

The merc, opened his wallet and pulled out a battered old photograph of the three of them he had taken on Emily's birthday at the zoo.

In the photo Missy was holding Emily, and Wade had his arms looped around Missy's neck, their smiling faces all pressed together.

It was Wade's favourite thing to look at on those long days and night's while he was all alone. Despite those two people he loved being just a few feet away across the hallway.

But now, Wade pushed the photo away from him, unable to bear the heartache of looking at it any longer. He missed them so much it hurt. Constantly.

Weasel leaned across the bar, picking up the battered picture.

"Awwww, fuck, you guys are perfect," he murmured. "Mind if I keep this and put it up behind the bar?"

Wade gave a heavy nod. He knew he wouldn't be able to make it in here many more times. So what did it matter to him if Weasel put it up or not.

"Sure..." he said with another tired sigh.

Weasel turned, popping the photo up onto the corner of the back wall, before glancing back over towards the merc.

"You know," he said giving a nod. "That creepy guy over there was asking about you earlier."

Wade glanced back over his shoulder at the man he could only see the back of, sat facing a wall in a dimly-lit corner of the bar.