[There's that urge again-- the urge to just shut down; to emotionally distance himself from the conversation with a poorly-timed joke or sarcastic remark. Shallow humor has been his shield for so long that he has no idea how to deal with someone being real with him, and that in itself has something strangely funny about it. Hypocrite, a cynical, familiar voice tells him from the dark recesses of his mind, offering support when you're standing in quicksand yourself.

Wade huffs out another laugh, tearing his eyes away from Nate's. It's suddenly become too much too look at his face.]

Well, I mean... I'm not really good at this whole empathy thing either, y'know? A-And I ain't just talking about the weird bond thing we've all got now, apparently. So I guess in a way we're... y'know. Even.

[He almost ends it there, but something in him compels him to share more; to give Nate something in exchange for his own candor.]

I meant what I said before, you know. About this not being my first time. Those guys who get off on suffering that I was talking about earlier? I, uh... kinda have firsthand experience. Though you probably already figured that out by now.

[He takes another gulp of beer, feeling the familiar warm dullness spreading over his brain, more quickly than it would have if his healing factor was still in working order. Good. He's gonna need to be a little dull for this conversation.]