Hi! I'm Wade Wilson, but you can call me, [The Regenerating Degenerate,] (Merc with a Mouth,) Deadpool!

First and foremost, those brackets and parentheses are my left and right brain, respectively. [A pleasure to meet you.](Hey, ladies! Ring me up sometime!) They help me with problem solving and keep me company when I'm alone. [Alone with our thoughts. Literally.]

Anyway, I'm certain you expect this "fan fiction" to be about me on a zany adventure for shits and giggles, right? Guess what?

Fuck that.

[What we're actually here to narrate is the first time we've ever died.](Heavy stuff, really.) And no, this isn't that arc of the comics where I lost my healing factor*. This is me telling you about the first time we met her. (Hubba hubba.) And, frankly, the fuckheads at Marvel screwed up how that went down. Eh… Where should we start guys?

(Ooh! Let's jump right in to where we died and went straight to heaven! I love that memory.)

[No, no, no. What we need to do is start some time before then and work our way towards it; give the reader a sense of what happened. Then we can get to the happiness.]

(Laaame. Nobody wants to sit through three chapters of back-story for a paragraph of action. Let's get to the good stuff!)

How about this? We'll begin our tale in the middle of a badass fight between me and the Avengers. That's about where it started anyway. [That works for me.](Good stuff followed by better stuff? Count me in.) Good. Now, shut up so I can narrate this bitch.

/-/

I climbed off of the ground, springing away from Captain America's shield coming down at me. This is about two minutes after the fight started. Before this, I had been minding my own business, y'know, eating my lunch after killing some scumbag crime boss - I think his name was (Tom?)[Gordon?] one of them - then, next I know, Iron Pants and Cappy come in and say something like "No, you're a bad man!" and start beatin' the snot out of me! (Talk about rude!) Right? It's just business. [Though our kind of business involves significantly more shooting and stabbing than most.] Eh, what're you gonna do?

Anyway, Cappy swings at me, I dodge, and Stark [Spoiler alert! Tony Stark is Iron Man!] catches me off guard and blasts me into the dirt! "Oww… Look, guys," I said, lifting myself on my elbows and making a T with my hands, "can I call a time out?"

"Hm, let me think about that," Iron Man said, landing and "accidentally" stepping on my neck. "What should we do with him, Cap?"

"Fury's orders were to bring him into custody," the Captain said sternly.

"This guy's batshit crazy, Rogers," Stark argued. "He's too dangerous to bring in; if he gets loose on the Helicarrier -"

"He won't get loose."

"I must agree with the captain, sir," I heard J.A.R.V.I.S. say from Iron Man's suit. [For you civilians, that stands for, literally, "Just a Rather Very Intelligent System." Stark is smart, but he's not too clever with names, clearly.] "To defy Director Fury would almost be worse than if Deadpool were allowed to walk free."

"And besides," I finally spoke up, "you can't kill me! I've tried many, many times." This was true to some degree. I did try several things that would normally kill me, (Cancer's a bitch.) but I didn't do anything along the lines of, say, damaging my femoral artery, cutting my own head off, or jumping off a building. [You see, we're actually pretty chicken shit about things like that.] I did, at one point, shoot myself, but I just blacked out. I woke up in that same spot not too long after. (Our healing factor is ridiculous.)[And, like cancer, it's a bitch.] "Plus, good guys don't kill! …Do they?"

As Iron Man gave Cappy a look that said "You see what I mean," I had reached for my teleporter, zipping away to a high rooftop. As he began to have a fit at Superpatriot, I couldn't help but laugh. "Did you see the look on Iron Pants' face?"

("Priceless!") my Right Brain said. He's the guy who helps my audience understand how I feel when words just won't do. He's also the more resilient of my two half-wits.

["They don't seem to think it's so funny,"] Left Brain commented. He's the problem solver of our outfit; my center for logic and general smartypantsness. [It's a word.]

"Ah, let 'em bitch about it. Hey, are we hungry?"

["For danger or for food?"]

("Either way, I'm starved! That fight took a lot out of us.")

"Hungered, are thee?" said a voice in very old English as I turned to face him. "Very well, then. Taste of the might of Mjolnir!"

"Only if it comes with barbecue sauce!" I zipped away as Thor swung his trusty hammer, barely clipping me as I faded briefly from existence. I reappeared outside of a deli, and was sent spiraling at the wall. That little clip from Mjolnir felt like I got wrecked by a planet! [Or a small hammer made of the cores of several hundred stars.] I broke through the wall and slammed into a table of food where a family had been enjoying lunch. A man, his wife, and their two kids looked - presumably in fear - as I got up and dusted myself off. "Howdy, folks!" I said with a smile. I pointed to them in succession: first the children, then the woman, then the man, saying, in that order: "Stay in school. Call me sometime. You could do better." I picked up one of their now-mangled hamburgers and took a bite, walking out of the restaurant. "Did I just live through getting whacked by a super hammer?"

["More like a divine hammer, but yes."]

"Awesome." An all-too-familiar Vibranium-alloy shield cracked me across the jaw. It not only interrupted my sandwich, but it made me bite my cheek. "AGH!" I shouted. I looked to my left, seeing Cappy and Stark charging. I snapped my mandible back into place. "Okay, boys," I growled, whipping out my favorite machine pistols, (Butter,) [And I Can't Believe It's Not Butter,] "You guys want a piece of me?" I took aim, raining lead at my targets. "Come and take it!"

["We could've said something better for that,"] Left brain quipped.

"For example?"

("Well, we were eating a burger, right? We could've told 'em to eat lead.")

"Shit, you're right! Left Brain, remind me to write down a list of one-liners when we get home."

["Can do. But, for now,"] I dodged one of Iron Man's pocket-rockets, ["can we please focus on getting out of this in one piece?"]

"I will settle for no more than two pieces," I agreed.

Cap'n 'Muricuh retrieved his shield, closing on me behind a wall of Vibranium that Butter's bullets weren't cutting through. I halted only to reload [Not that it helped us much,] and that was enough to allow him to bash me. The impact against my face broke my nose and probably chipped a tooth. Then, he grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the sedan I was using as cover. He ripped off my teleporter belt (Which we totally shoulda used,) and tossed it aside. "Whoa, buddy," I said, catching him with a swipe across the chest with one of my trusty katana swords, "Not 'til after the third date!" I kicked him away, then frantically bolted for my belt, which Iron Pants blasted away with his repulsor. "No fair!"

"Since when does Deadpool care about fighting fair?" Stark commented, aiming a high-power laser cannon.

"Since… Dammit, Left Brain! You're the smart one!"

["I've got nothing. Sorry."]

"So, your brain's giving you trouble?" He fired, shearing exactly the wrong half of my head off. "That ought to fix it."

Stunned, I reached my right hand up, trying to pop the ringing noise out of that side. My palm hit white matter, which gave with a disturbing squish. (We thought something was disturbing?) Without another word, my remaining eye rolled back, and I collapsed dead on the ground.

/-/

*See Deadpool: Dead