Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They belong to Marvel and other entitled entities. I'm not making profit and only published this for personal entertainment.
AN: I hated and loved Wolverine Origins. There are a lot of things I really enjoyed, the characters, the credit scenes, some of the fights and dialogues and the actors, but the story writing ruined it as a whole. Not only was it a far cry from the comics, but it also had a lot of dumb plot-holes and stupid character motivations. So I'm taking the parts I liked and will try to make an alternate story. Hope you enjoy. And for those of you reading my other stories, don't worry. I haven't given up on my Wolverine in Gotham story, or my Son's of the Wilderness series.
Chapter One: Louisiana Fireworks
A glowing red baseball flew toward them, filling the air with a hot tense buzz of potential energy.
"Oh great! Not again!" shouted Wade, as Stryker gave a cry of alarm and tried to turn their Jeep aside.
"Abandon ship! It's every man for-"
Shredded metal and shattered glass flew everywhere. With an enormous crash, the Jeep flipped over and bounced once, before careening into a ditch. In a whirl of noise, confusion and pain, Logan was flung into something solid and blacked out.
When he woke up, Logan estimated he had at least four broken bones. A large glass shard pierced through his skull right behind his right ear, causing a fast flow of blood down his neck. Groaning he fumbled through blood and hair to get it out and looked around. He'd been thrown from the car about fifteen feet into some boulders by a swampy pond. Stinking water soaked his cloths and mixed with his blood. To his left, a frog peered at him and jumped off a tree root in the water with a plop.
Across the pond, Logan saw the ruined Jeep, its twisted axils and crumpled hood looked grotesque in the light of the cracked headlights. Fred was helping Colonel Skryker stumble up the bank to the road. Their leader was bloodied and limping, but didn't seem to have any serious injuries. On the dark asphalt above, Wade, John and David were all standing about in the humid night air, completely unharmed, guns and swords in hand. Lucky bastards. Hearing a gurgling growl, Logan saw Victor struggling under the remains of the Jeep, apparently just regaining consciousness. He'd be fine. Bradley on the other hand…
Grunting in pain, Logan pulled his healing body along the swampy bank to where the smaller mutant lay amidst the roots of a cypress tree. Blood was flowing from his forehead and one arm was obviously broken. Fearing the worst, Logan pressed his fingers to Bradley's neck and was relieved to feel a pulse.
"Chris? Can you hear me? Bolt? Bradley?" There was no response and Logan let out a frustrated growl of rage. Out of everyone on the team, why did the one guy who didn't drive him nuts have to get hurt? His own bones were still gradually knitting together, but he managed to get up and heft Chris in his arms.
"Bradley needs medical attention!" He shouted, struggling clumsily toward the road.
"Yeah and someone needs to come get this fucking car off my back!" screamed Victor, clawing vainly at the mud and broken steel around him.
Wade chuckled, looking down at him. "Guess exploding baseball isn't your sport."
"Wilson, as soon as I get out of here, I'll show you exactly what kind of "sport" I play."
"Enough talk!" snapped Stryker, still a little breathless from the crash. "North get on the phone with Base and tell them we need medics and transportation." The colonel pressed a bloody handkerchief against his neck and limbed, but was still just as determined and businesslike as ever, "The target can't get too far. Have them send the helicopters."
Logan got to the road and John took Bradley from his arms. "How bad is he?"
"Spect he's got a concussion, but 'least his head ain't bleeding too bad," Logan panted, dropping to his knees. "Kid's got a broken arm, maybe some broken ribs. I may not be a doctor, but I've seen my share 'o injuries. He'll live."
John nodded and glanced down at Logan, who had his hand pressed to his side where his own broken ribs were burning with the strain of healing. Sweat and blood trickled over his face and neck and his breathing was shallow.
"How 'bout you?" asked Wraith.
Growling, Logan shook his pounding head, flinging water and blood from his hair and stood up, "I'll live too."
"Damn it, Jimmy!" yelled Victor, "GET THIS FUCKING CAR OFF ME!"
"Ah'm comin'," Logan snarled, sliding back down the bank.
"I'll help you, Logan," Fred said, which was handy, since Logan was pretty sure he couldn't lift a car, even if his ribs had been whole and his skull uncracked.
"I swear when I find that red-eyed, card-flipping son of a bitch, I'm gonna make him eat one of his own bombs!" growled Victor.
"I actually think he's pretty cool!" Wade said, casually swinging his swords in graceful sweeps. "Not everyday you get to see a card trick that actually brings down the house, or a baseball pitch that can flip a car! By the way, Sir, your suit is wet. Wanna borrow my jacket?"
"Wade put your swords away and help Logan and Dukes get Creed up," Stryker said, sitting down and cutting one of his pants legs open to check a blooded shin, "Soon as he's on his feet again, I want you, Wraith, Logan and Creed to follow the target on foot. Make sure we don't lose him. The rest of us will catch up."
"On foot? What good's that go'na do. He's got a motorcycle! No thanks to Wolverine!" Wade pointed accusingly at Logan, who gritted his teeth and ignored them.
With a grunt, Fred managed to lift the Jeep. Logan grabbed his brother by the arms and dragged him out from under the car, before Wade had a chance to jump down the bank. Victor gave a roar of pain.
"Ah Hell!" cursed Logan when he saw his brother's back. "Colonel, he aint going to be on his feet for a while. His back's broken."
"Fuck you Jimmy," Victor panted, dragging himself toward road with his arms, "I can tell by the way you move that you got plenty of broken bones yerself. If you're go'n, I sure ain't-"
"Yeah, but I heal faster than you, Old Man." Logan interrupted and indeed he could already feel his ribs relaxing back into place, whole and hardy as ever.
"Fine, Victor, you're staying here with Bradley to wait for the medics," started Stryker, but Victor interrupted voice savage.
"I DON'T need any damned medics!"
Stryker's face darkened, "Watch you manner, soldier," he ordered.
"Ooho," Wade chided and wagged a finger at Victor, "Old n' Crippled's gonna get himself in trouble again."
Victor growled, his claws extending.
Marching past his brother, Logan grabbed Wade by the arm, turning him toward the road.
"Come on. That bike was a Kawasaki GPz900R Ninja from '84. Mutant or not I aint letting that punk get away with it. Ninja's damn fast, but luckily it don't got much of a gas tank. Kid's gotta be near empty by now. We might catch him at the next station, if we hurry."
"Oh boy!" scoffed Wade, "Cornering Firecracker in a fucking gas station! Sounds like a blast!"
"Logan, if you find him, report via the radios. Keep him pinned, but don't go in until we get there," instructed Stryker.
"Understood Sir," Logan replied and gave John an annoyed look, as he teleported right beside him in a puff of stinking sulfur.
"I still can't believe you let this guy steel your bike," Wade said once the crash was well behind them, "And after you stole it in the first place and everything! I mean what gives, Wolverine?"
"Wilson," Logan growled through gritted teeth, "Shut up."
"Ha! Like that's ever going to happen. We're walking on a dark country rode in the middle of nowhere, with creepy swamp trees and their strange bearded moss (What kinda name is "Bearded Moss" anyway?) hanging from the branches like green snot and here's you two creepy mutants on either side of me and Flaming Bomb Boy Mutant ahead. I got'a challenge the suspense/horror atmosphere somehow. Otherwise who knows what might jump out and eat us… well eat John. We all know the black dude dies first. No offense man, it's just a fact."
John shook his head, "Wilson, if you plan on yakking like this all night then dying first would be a god-damned relief!"
"No kidding," agreed Logan.
"Come on. Don't you guys go ganging up against me, otherwise I might just cut off your feet and leave you both behind when the monsters start chasing us." He drew his swords and swung one in each hand barely missing Logan's cheek by half an inch. "By the way, Logan, you got blood in your ear… and your hair and …"
"Yes, I know!" snarled Logan in a dangerous tone. The tips of his claws protruded slightly, as he clenched his fists. Quickening his pace, he pulled out ahead of the others.
For about five seconds Wade didn't say anything, as he eyed Logan's angry march then he shrugged and turned to John. "So I heard some crazy stories 'bout the locals 'round here…"
Ahead of them, Logan let out a growl of frustration and broke into a jog. "Don't try to keep up," he snapped back at them, "I'll wait at the next crossroad." Then he sprinted on ahead, leaving them behind.
"Was it something I said?" asked Wade.
"Deadpool, I think it's just you," John replied.
Logan had run nearly a mile, letting his deep breaths and pounding heart dissolve the last remaining pain of his healing injuries. Then he smelled the tell-tale sent of gasoline and saw lights up ahead. A familiar yellow and black motorcycle was parked beside the pumps of a gas station.
Grabbing up his radio, Logan reported in. "This is Wolverine, I've sighted the target's vehicle outside an Exxon about 1.5 miles north of our last encounter."
"Copy that Wolverine, this is Zero," came North's reply, "How close are you and the others from the station?"
"I'm about a 150 yards out…" Turning Logan glanced over his shoulder and sniffed, "Wraith and Deadpool are still a'ways back."
"A'waaaiys back?" sneered North, exaggerating Logan's rural accent, "You're telling me you idiots split up? Do you even know what a team recognizant mission is?"
"Oh you know Lo- I mean Wolvie," Wade's voice butted in on the frequency, "He never wants anything to do with anyone. He's a "Lone Wolf" Oh except that he lets his big brother knock him about and – oh in Africa he-"
"Shut up Deadpool!" came Stryker's barking command.
"Only for you, Sir. Only for you. Though I-"
"Wolverine," interrupted Stryker, "Can you see our target?"
"No Sir, but once I get closer, I'll know if he's there."
"You mean you'll smell him?" drawled North in his typical "You're such an animal" tone of voice.
"If yeh hate mutants so much, why are yeh even on this team," growled Logan, as he stalked closer to the station.
"Some one needs to be the zoo keeper," scoffed Zero. There was some growling in the background and Logan could practically hear David's eye roll over the radio. "Stuff it, Sabertooth. You can't even stand up."
By now Logan was close enough to the station to pick up a few more scents. Their target, a mutant known as Remy LeBeau, was still close by. Besides that, there was only one other person he could catch scent of and he assumed it must be the attendant. There was also the strong smell of roasting hot dogs, which made Logan's stomach rumble. Why was he always starving after a rough healing?
There was movement inside the lighted station windows and Logan caught sight of LeBeau's long coat and brown hair.
Wade had started arguing with Fred about something over the radios and Logan didn't hesitate to interrupt. "This is Wolverine. I can confirm the target is inside the station. I think he's buying hot dogs."
"Oh good! I'm starving!" came Wade's voice.
"We're not here to eat, Soldier!" barked Stryker, "Wolverine, keep the target under observation. Wraith, get yourself and Deadpool over there. Keep him pinned. We'll have backup, helicopters and transport there in less than half an hour."
"Copy that," came John's voice and a moment later Logan heard a faint bamfing sound in the distance. Then, in a stench of sulfur, John and Wade appeared beside him in the dark. Logan didn't take his eyes off the station, just sniffed and muttered. "Why do yeh always have to stink things up when yeh do that?"
"Ain't my fault. That's just the way it is."
"The way it is sucks," broke in Wade, "Man, I hate it when you pull me with you. It feels so compressed and yet wobbly. It's not unlike escaping mother's womb. God what a memory!"
"Keep watch," Logan hissed to John and took off his boots, before moving silently toward the station.
"Where yeh going?" asked John in a hushed tone.
"Boss said keep 'em pinned. Figure someone aught'a do something 'bout sabotaging the bike, otherwise we'll have another damn chase."
"This seriously the size of your feet?" demanded Wade holding Logan's army boot at arms length, "Dude, this shoe is way too small to be a man's! This looks like it should fit my sister and she's twelve."
"Man, you aint got no sister," hissed John.
"Ah you're right," sighed Wade, tossing Logan's boot forlornly over his shoulder, "But if I did you know she'd be hotter than Marilyn standing over that fan."
"Tell me about it!"
Logan shook his head in annoyance and moved more quickly along the shadows of the trees, his bare feet softer than drifting snowflake. All the stealth probably wasn't necessary, but, as of yet, LeBeau's powers weren't fully known and Logan had learned a long time ago to always take the extra precautions.
It was when he got to the lighted pumps that things got difficult. He watched from the shadows for a long minute as LeBeau filled a soda cup and picked out of pack of gum and a new deck of cards. Finally, he moved into the light when the Cajun turned his back to the windows to pay.
The bike LeBeau had stolen was a 1984 Kawasaki Ninja, one of the first motorcycles to come out of Japan. It had turned the biking world upside down when it hit the scene. It'd been a damned revolution: faster, smoother and sleeker than all the competition. This one had a custom yellow and black paint job and Logan had gotten hold of it in Casa Blanka on their way out of Africa. It'd belonged to the smugglers they'd taken down. Since most of the smugglers ended up dead, Logan figured it was time to give the beauty a new home back in the USA - only to have that red-eyed punk of a kid steal it. Careful not to scratch the paint, Logan uncovered the fuel line and cut it neatly with his pocketknife. It'd be an easily repair once he got it back to base, but he still felt like he was slitting the throat of a faithful dog.
"Don't worry baby. I'll have yeh home in no time," he whispered, actually patting the bike.
"Well, don't dat just touch a man's heart," came a Cajun slur of a voice.
Looking up over the top of the bike, Logan could see Remy LeBeau standing just outside the station door a Dr. Pepper in one hand, a handful of cards in the other. He hardly looked more than 17 years old. The acne and red eyes counteracted the suave of the long coat and stylish haircut.
"If ah'd known this was all about yer love for yeh "baby" there, than we could'a settled this days ago. Though, the rest'o yer friends didn't seem so concerned 'bout the little theft ah pulled off, as much as dragging me off to some undisclosed "sanctuary." Where are they by d' way?"
Wasting no time, Logan drew his gun and leveled it at the mutant. "They're closer than yeh think. Now drop the cards, Lebeau, and-"
"You really should have thought about this more, Monsieur. But if you insist…"
Remy tossed the cards and Logan looked down to see the trickle of gasoline running from the bike to the Cajun's feet.
"No. Wait!" Throwing himself aside, Logan rolled, barely dodging the explosion as his beautiful yellow and black Ninja went up in a ball of fire.
"Are yeh CRAZY!?" shouted Logan, "You mutherfu-rahahh!" his curse turned into an outright animal snarl, as he fired his gun at the boy. Stryker wanted LeBeau alive, but after the Jeep wreck and then seeing his bike blown to bits, Logan just wanted to rip LeBeau apart and be done with it.
Remy, however, was more than a little fast on his feet. He was literally doing cartwheels, as he dodged, his coat flying out behind him.
"Wolverine what the hell is going on!?" came Stryker's voice from the radio, but Logan ignored him. His clip was empty and he didn't bother to reload. Instead he charged, the hard bones of his claws breaking past his skin.
Logan swung with his claws, using all his strength and speed, but he still missed the Cajun completely, only succeeding in getting his claws tangled in the heavy canvas of Remy's coat. Grabbing hold, Logan jerked the coat around pulling LeBeau off his feet. The boy's coat collar in hand, Logan lifted his gun shoving it into the boy's stomach. He grunted in pain, as the breath was knocked out of him. Before Logan could do anything else, Remy managed a smirk and put his hand over the mussel of the gun.
"Adieu, mon ami," he said before slipping smoothly out of the coat and kicking Logan back a good two feet, as he somersaulted in the other direction. There was a tense hum, as Logan's gun grew red-hot. It exploded like a firework in his hand, shards of steel flying through flesh. The force sent him bouncing over the pavement, until he hit his head on the cemented side of a gas pump.
Casually, Remy picked up his coat and turned to go, when, with a bamf, Wraith and Deadpool appeared before him. John lifted a gun. "Give it up, Boy. There's no escape."
"Yeah, hate to break it to yeh, but we aren't all as incompetent as Wolverine over there," chided Wade drawing his swords.
"You're surrounded and we got helicopters on the way," John informed him, "You got no choice."
Stepping back, Remy chuckled, "Mes amis, there is always a choice." Taking more cards out of his coat pocket, Remy tossed them aside and lifted his hands, as if in surrender.
Where he was fighting through the fogs of concussion and pain, Logan saw the cards flutter toward a puddle of gas coming out of the broken pump where the remains of his bike were scattered. Then the cards began to glow bright red. Ignoring all else, Logan lunged up. "John get out of here!" he screamed and leapt for Remy, tackling him down in a tumble that took them crashing through the station door into the shelter of the building.
There was a bamf, as John and Wade vanished from the scene and Logan did his best to shield the kid with his own body. The whole station erupted in a giant ball of orange and red flames.
AN on Deadpool & Zero: I really liked the Lagos sequence in the movie. Wade and North were pretty awesome with their guns and swords and super-flippy-jumps, but it doesn't really define their powers. I mean obviously they had some, but being really good at wielding their perspective weapons and doing a crazy flips isn't really an understandable mutation in itself. Also, Wade is human in the comics. Zero is supposed to be Christoph Nord/David North, but he's seemed pretty unrecognizable in the movie and far as I can tell didn't have North's powers. So I decided to have them both be human. They obviously have really good training and athletics, but nothing supernatural or mutant - no cutting bullets in half, or doing 20 foot flips over fences. Sorry.
Please leave a review and let me know what you think of the Wolverine Origins movie and if "rewriting" it is worth the trouble.