Chapter 12: Recovery Bonds
The Foundry's medical bay was a sterile haven, its monitors beeping softly, their rhythm a faint lifeline in the quiet. The air was sharp with rubbing alcohol, undercut by the metallic tang of medical tools, their gleam harsh under fluorescent lights. Luke lay on a table, his body a map of bruises, purple and black blooming across his ribs, each breath a sharp stab. He clutched a cracked plastic cup, sipping tepid water, the taste flat, his fingers trembling as he set it down, the cup wobbling on the tray. Sara sat beside him, her white jacket scuffed, her blonde hair loose, strands catching the light as she pressed a cold pack to his shoulder, its chill biting through his torn shirt. Her baton rested on her lap, her fingers twitching toward it, a restless habit.
Luke's eyes flicked to her, his voice hoarse. "I'm a human punching bag, Canary. Slade's got a mean right hook."
She smirked, her touch gentle but firm, her voice low. "You keep taking hits for us, Cupid. Gotta say, it's a weird look on you."
The System pinged, a spark of hope cutting through the pain, its interface glowing in his mind like a beacon.
[SYSTEM: DAILY ROLL ACTIVATED: DEADPOOL REGENERATION (FACE 2)]
[SYSTEM: POWER ACTIVATED: RAPID HEALING. STAMINA DRAIN: LOW]
Regen's back. About time. Luke closed his eyes, the power stirring, a sluggish green pulse in his core, too weak to mend him fully. He recalled the System's notes—sharing could amplify it. His voice was strained, barely audible. "Sara, I need you to do something weird. Hold my hand, focus on feeling whole. I can… share the healing."
Sara's eyes softened, her calloused hand gripping his, warm and steady, her touch a quiet anchor. "Weird's my wheelhouse, Luke." She squeezed, her fingers firm, her gaze holding his with a mix of trust and curiosity.
Luke pushed the regeneration's energy through their connection, a green-tinged warmth flowing, sharp pain spiking briefly before fading, his bruises tingling as they knit. Sara's own healing, a faint echo of the Lazarus Pit, pulsed in response, amplifying the effect, the air humming with a subtle charge, the scent of ozone faint but sharp.
[SYSTEM: REGENERATION SHARE ACTIVATED.]
[SYSTEM: EMPATHY SHARES PAIN/HEALING.]
[SYSTEM: STAT UPDATE: STAMINA +2 (ACCELERATED HEALING).]
An hour later, Luke sat up, his bruises fading to sickly yellow, his ribs aching less, the air easier to breathe. He stretched, his joints popping like firecrackers, a grin breaking through the lingering pain. Sara leaned back, twirling her baton, her eyes bright with a rare lightness, her hair brushing her shoulders as she tilted her head. "That was… intense. Most intimate thing I've done since I was, y'know, technically dead."
Luke chuckled, wincing slightly, his voice steadier. "Official System therapy friend, reporting for duty. Thanks, Canary—you're my healing MVP."
She tossed her baton lightly, catching it with precision, her smirk sharp. "You keep saving my family, Luke. Least I can do." She nodded toward the training mats, scuffed and worn, their edges curling. "Show me that magic trick. I'm tired of just pointy sticks."
Luke stood, his legs shaky but holding, his grin widening. "One private lesson for the Canary. No fireballs—yet." He summoned a small Mandala of Light, its orange glow steady, the air crackling softly, his focus sharp despite the ache in his bones. "It's not just the trick. It's what you pour into it—focus, intent, all of it."
Sara mimicked his hand movements, her assassin's precision flawless, her eyes narrowed in concentration, her baton still in one hand. "Like aiming a strike, but… sparkly."
"Exactly," Luke said, his voice low, their shared focus a quiet bond, forged in trust and survival. He adjusted her stance, his fingers brushing her wrist, a fleeting spark of connection, the mats creaking under their feet.
[SYSTEM: SUSTAINED MAGIC TRAINING.]
[SYSTEM: EVOLUTION POINTS GAINED: +50 EP (SHARED LEARNING).]
Later, alone at the console, Luke sipped a fresh coffee, its warmth soothing, the mug's chipped handle catching his thumb as he gripped it. The System's notifications scrolled in his mind, the healing and training a leap forward, his body stronger, his mind clearer, the coffee's bitter edge grounding him.
[SYSTEM: SUSTAINED MAGIC STUDY: +30 EP.]
[SYSTEM: MASTERY UPDATE: DEADPOOL REGENERATION +10%.]
[SYSTEM: STAT UPDATE: INTELLIGENCE +1 (POWER ANALYSIS).]
He leaned back, the chair creaking, his eyes scanning Felicity's screens, their glow harsh against the dim room. "Felicity, I'm back online. No more playing defense—Isabel's bankrolling Slade's chaos. I need everything on Queen Consolidated's takeover, her asset moves, all of it. We cut her funds, we choke the Mirakuru."
Felicity's fingers flew, her ponytail bouncing, her voice sharp with focus. "On it, Luke. Time to crash her corporate party."
Luke popped another candy, the sugar sharp, his resolve hardening like steel. He glanced at Sara, her baton twirling slowly, a silent promise of backup. Isabel's the key, Slade's the lock. Time to play corporate spy and break their game. The city's pulse thrummed through the walls, a call to the boardroom battlefield, the next fight waiting like a shadow in the wings.
To supporting Me in Pateron .
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