A/N: I've never written an X-Men fan fiction before so I'm crossing my fingers and hoping this turns out okay. I haven't read any of the X-Men comics so most likely my characters won't be anything like they are in the comic world. I just watched X-Men Origins: Wolverine for the first time this weekend and was fascinated by Wade Wilson/Deadpool's story…the fact that he was played by Ryan Reynolds may have contributed just a little bit….so I decided to attempt at writing a Wade Wilson romance. Forgive me if some of the dialogue seems weird, I'm not always the best at writing humorous dialogue. Hope you enjoy! :)
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN X-MEN OR ANY CHARACTERS MENTIONED IN THIS STORY.
He was watching her again.
She could see him standing at the end of the hall from her cell. Leaning against the doorway, toned arms crossed casually over his chest, he looked the definition of relaxed. His eyes, however, told a different story. Those dark brown irises of his penetrated her with his heated gaze. Her blue eyes stared back at them from under dark lashes, filled with curiosity and the need to understand him.
They played this game often. It started several months ago, when she had been kidnapped from the warm comfort of her bed in Orange County, California.
It happened the night before she turned eighteen. She had gone to bed early that night, anxiously waiting for the day she would become a legal adult and have the ability to make her own decisions. When the door opened moments later, she expected her older sister Kayla to enter the room. Instead she saw three tall, vicious men standing in the doorway. Her mouth opened to release a blood curdling scream but sharp claws pressed against her throat before she could make a sound.
"Not a word, angel," a cold, sinister voice whispered softly into her ear, "Or else those human parents of yours in the room across the hall will be receiving a lovely little surprise tonight."
The man in front of her resembled an animal, with his mane of tangled hair and dark, beady eyes. He was without a doubt the scariest thing she had ever seen before in her life. She whimpered as his sharp claws lengthened and pierced the pale skin of her neck, drawing droplets of blood.
A sharp blade suddenly pressed against his throat. "Easy there, big boy, Stryker said to bring her back alive," the owner of the blade snarked. His voice was mocking enough, but there was a warning undertone that caused animal like man to draw back suddenly and growl ferociously at him.
"Going soft on us for a pretty little girl, Wade?" he whispered chillingly in a way that sent shivers down her back.
"No," the swordsman, Wade, instantly objected with a casual roll of the eyes, "I was just suggesting that you take your claws out of her throat before you hit one of her carotid arteries. "
"Just grab the girl, Victor," their third companion, a muscled Asian who had been standing quietly in the corner up until that point, said impatiently, "We're on a time limit."
And just as she was beginning to search for a way to escape, she was scooped out of her bed and thrown over Victor's shoulder. His grip was strong and impossible to break free of. She forced herself to remain silent as she was carried away from the house she had lived in her whole life, knowing there would be consequences if she were to make a single noise. She feared for her life, especially in the arms of Victor, but as she glanced over his shoulder and met the captivating brown eyes of Wade Wilson, she somehow felt a calming sense of reassurance. Because no matter how much he denied it, he had protected her from Victor earlier in her room and instincts told her that he would allow no other harm to befall her.
That night, she fell asleep on the plane they were transporting her in. She woke up the next morning on her birthday in a small cell with nothing but stale bread and bland oatmeal for breakfast. As she forced the unsatisfying breakfast down her throat, she realized she was being watched. It was Wade, the swordsmen who had protected her from the savage Victor the night before. Their eyes connected briefly, and his lip curled into a handsome smirk before he turned and left abruptly. She hadn't known then that it would be the first visit of many.
He never spoke to her during his visits, as if it would break some unspoken rule. They simply stared at one another in silence, ignorant of the cells full of people surrounding them. She had a similar experience before with a boy named Robby Jacobs when she had been a young, powerless first grader. They had a crush on each other and constantly exchanged awkward glances during coloring time, but they were both too shy to ever say a word to the other. The only difference in the situations seemed to be that her silent glances exchanged with Wade were not awkward and almost comfortable. The thought that she was comparing her captor to her first grade crush made her smile in ironic amusement and put an unsettling feeling in her stomach. An eighteen year old girl wasn't supposed to have a crush on her captor who was probably years older than her, no matter how young and handsome he may look.
When she finally drew away from her thoughts, she was surprised to realize Wade was no longer leanings against the wall. He was standing right in front of her. The only thing separating them was the clear, impenetrable door of her cell. Her heart pounded heavily against her chest as he lifted his palm to the level of her face, pressing it gently against the door. She absentmindedly pressed her face against the plastic opposite his hand, wishing she could feel the warmth of his hand.
And then, a realization hit her. This was wrong. This was horribly wrong. Wade was not a good person, no matter how he might have protected her before. He killed people for fun. He had helped put all of the other mutants in these cells. He had helped put her in her cell. She instantly drew away from him, receding into the corner of her small cell, and refusing to look at him again.
When she dared to glance at the door again several minutes later, he was gone.
Emma didn't see Wade for a long time after that day. He no longer leaned against the wall at the end of the hall, watching her with his dark gaze and he sure as hell did not stand in front of her cell with his fingers pressed against the door. She knew she should feel relief, but instead she just felt pain and loneliness. The moaning and muttering of the mutants in other cells that had never bothered her before was beginning to drive her crazy and she was developing claustrophobia in her too-small cell. She didn't know how much more of it she could take.
It all changed when she awoke one morning and realized the once empty cell next to her was occupied. And she was shocked to find that her new cell mate was none other than Wade Wilson. But he wasn't the same, handsome, smirking Wade she had stared at for several months. This Wade was pale, weak, and sick.
Wade observed her with sallow eyes before doing the unthinkable. He spoke to her. "Good morning sunshine. Happy to see me?"
Blue eyes widening, jaw dropping , she goggled at him in surprise.
He frowned slightly, amusement in his eyes, "I'll take that as a no then?"
"W-What happened to you?" she gasped breathlessly, her eyes taking in the dark purple bruises covering his arms and bare chest.
"These-" he gestured to the bruises covering his torso, "-are from my pal Victor. He likes to play rough sometimes."
Rough was an understatement. The bruises traveled from his collar bone to the hem of his sweatpants, darkening especially around his ribs. It would be a surprise if his ribs weren't broken, or at least fractured.
"And those?" She asked softly as her eyes fell on the pattern of bruises on his spine.
He grinned bitterly and said, "Those are from the cancer."
Her heart stopped.
Cancer.
She felt a sharp, stabbing pain from somewhere deep inside of her. Wade was dying. She knew she shouldn't care, but she did anyways. And, if she was being honest with herself, the thought of never being able to stare into his dark brown eyes again hurt like hell.
A simple "oh" paired with an indifferent nod was the only response she gave. But she could tell by the look he gave her that he had seen the flashing emotions in her eyes. He knew that she cared about him.
They sat in silence for a long time. Her, staring at the wall blankly in attempt to mask her raging emotions, and him, watching her with a faint spark in his eyes. Finally, without making eye contact with him, she spoke three simple words, "Are you dying?"
His response was quick and straightforward. "Yes."
Emma had always been a talkative person, but for once in her life she found herself at a loss for words. Instead, she silently edged closer to the thin bars that separated their cells. With a sad smile, she reached her pale, delicate hand through the bars and placed it on top of his.
Wade returned her smile thankfully and, in a surprisingly cheerful voice, said, "So, looks I'll be calling heaven pretty soon."
Her eyebrows rose in astonishment, "What? Why?"
"I have to let them know one of their angels is missing."
She gawked at him in disbelief for a brief moment before cracking a wide grin and replying sarcastically, "Not like I've ever heard that one before."