Ethan 's triumphant shout echoed through the sterile hall.
A few guards glanced over, indifferent to the outburst. This wasn't new. In a place like this, filled with desperate and damaged experimental subjects, strange behavior was common. They'd already written Ethan off as just another test subject cracking under pressure, so they turned away without a second thought.
"Thanks a lot, buddy! You just interrupted my date with Scarlett!"
The annoyed voice came from the bed next to his. Ethan turned his head and saw a young, scruffy-looking white man with hollowed cheeks and dark rings under his eyes, a result of the grueling experiments he'd endured. The man gave Ethan a look of exasperation.
They'd been "neighbors" since Ethan was brought here, and during that time, he'd learned quite a bit about the man who called himself Wade. But Ethan also knew his real name—Wade Wilson. In the future, this man would come to be known as Deadpool, a mutant mercenary with a sense of humor sharper than his swords.
Ethan offered a smirk, not missing a beat. "Wade, don't you have a girlfriend out there in the real world? Maybe instead of daydreaming, you should focus on getting out of here. Or you'll come back and find out you're a dad."
Wade scoffed, flipping his hand dismissively. "Yeah, well, when I get these stupid cancer cells out of my body, Vanessa and I are gonna pick up where we left off. I'll prove it to you—she's the most beautiful woman on the planet."
"Uh-huh. If you get out of here…" Ethan said with a grin, though he quickly turned serious as an idea sparked in his mind. He looked back at Wade, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Hey, Wade, did you ever hear about Ajax's little secret?"
Wade's eyebrows rose in interest. His rivalry with Ajax—the sadistic man behind these experiments—was as legendary as his big mouth. "Secret? Go on, spill."
Ethan leaned in close, voice conspiratorial. "Well, for starters, 'Ajax' isn't even his real name. It's a brand of dish soap. His actual name is Francis."
For a second, Wade just stared, processing. Then, as understanding dawned, he burst out laughing, loud enough to startle a few nearby guards.
"No way! The guy who tortures people for fun named himself after dish soap? That is rich! Man, Francis just got a whole lot less terrifying." Wade laughed uncontrollably, clutching his sides.
Ethan chuckled along with him. "But listen," he said, leaning closer with a mock-serious expression, "keep this to yourself, yeah? We wouldn't want him to hear about it and… I dunno, bite your head off or something."
"Relax, I've been trained for discretion," Wade said, still wiping laughter from his eyes. He placed a hand over his heart, as if taking an oath. "My mercenary code of honor, you know?"
Ethan patted his shoulder, trying not to look too pleased. "I trust you."
The next day, Francis walked through the hall with his usual icy demeanor, clipboard in hand. As the research institute's lead, he was responsible for the progress of each subject, checking to ensure every asset was healthy enough to withstand the next round of tests.
He approached Ethan and Wade's beds. Wade looked up and, in a flash, his face twisted into a wide grin.
"Pffft…" Wade couldn't hold it in, snickering before dissolving into full-blown laughter.
Francis raised an eyebrow, his expression darkening. "What's so funny?"
"Oh, it's nothing," Wade wheezed, trying—and failing—to compose himself. "It's just... Francis," he said, pausing to catch his breath. "Francis! Man, how'd you pick that? You're a brand of dish soap! I can't—I can't breathe!"
Francis's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them. His grip on the clipboard tightened, his knuckles white. Ethan bit back a smile, watching the fury simmer in Francis's expression as Wade continued to laugh hysterically.
"Enjoy the joke while it lasts," Francis said, voice taut. He stalked off, but not before throwing a look at Ethan , who kept his expression as blank as possible.
Wade's laughter followed Francis down the hall. Ethan settled back onto his bed, feeling the tiniest spark of satisfaction. This wasn't freedom, not yet, but it was a start.