As far as getting stuck in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of strangers went, Wade wasn't an avid fan. Bus Driver had almost swallowed his tongue trying to apologize "for the inconvenience," but it didn't really make anything better, did it? They were still stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere, with nothing but darkness and coyotes for the company. And each other, as Uptight Soldier helpfully pointed out. Wade snickered, and Richie Rich did too, not even looking up from his tablet. Wade liked that one, even though he had no idea what he was doing on a bus for poor people; besides undressing Uptight Soldier with his eyes, that is.

Clue number one.

He looked around, because what else was there to do? Hot Redhead looked almost as displeased as Wade felt, but Her Boyfriend seemed to be living the dream. Maybe he was high. Or had really weird kinks. Businesswoman was yattering on the phone with impressive speed, and Creepy Biker sitting the closest to her was looking daggers, but he was obviously too cool to show he was bothered and just sit elsewhere. Cat Lady annoyed Wade with her pointless questions directed at Bus Driver. It's too dark to try and fix it now. They'll send the replacement bus as soon as they can. Worst case scenario we'll fix the bus in the morning. No, we won't let the coyotes to eat the cats. Wade was getting a headache. Nerd and Blind Guy were the only ones that seemed completely unaffected; they looked poor enough for them to be a regular situation.

Before Wade could decide who to eavesdrop on, Cat Lady landed bodily on Nerd, and made a choice for him.

"Peter," she whined. "Peter, entertain me." Nerd – Peter – smirked, but didn't lift his head from his book. Cat Lady took off his glasses, offended with the lack of attention she clearly deserved. "My cats are all sleeping, as usual, when I'm in need of entertainment. You will have to take over their responsibilities."

"You want me to curl on your lap and purr?" Peter asked, a sneer barely audible in his voice. "What will Matt say?"

"Matt will never know, Parker, come on…" Cat Lady released a purr of her own.

"I'm blind, not deaf, Felicia," Matt said, his voice amused, warm and thick; it reminded Wade of honey. Felicia laughed and moved from Peter's lap to straddle her boyfriend's. "Which is a pity."

"Because you can't see how beautiful I am?" Felicia asked teasingly, leaning in to kiss Matt.

"Because he has to listen to you whine all the time," Peter offered, closing his book. "Now if you'll excuse me, I will go somewhere far far away where I can't see, and preferably, hear you making out. Have fun." Peter got up and walked up straight to Wade, smiling. "This seat taken?"

Clue number two.

"I thought it was your friend who was blind," Wade muttered, uncomfortable. Peter's smile didn't falter, if anything, it only grew wider. "What."

"You were eavesdropping on our private conversation. That alone gives me the right to annoy you out of your mind with my overbearing presence."

Wade gave Peter a brief once-over; overbearing wasn't the word Wade would use and he had a feeling Peter knew that. How the hell did so much sarcasm fit into such a small and flimsy body? Wade didn't want company, because it usually entailed conversation. And engaging in a conversation always meant for Wade not knowing if it was real or only in his head. Wade had no way of knowing if Peter was real. He didn't even know if the bus was real. Maybe he was in the institution again. He could never be sure.

"You can't drive me out of my mind, I'm already crazy," he muttered again and moved an inch to indicate that it was okay for Peter to sit next to him. He had no idea why, though.

"Oh? What a coincidence. Out of you, Creepy Biker over there and Bus Driver, I was betting on you being a crazy serial killer. That was a bad joke, sorry. You're not really a serial killer, are you? That would suck. But if you are, Richie Rich over there looks like he doesn't want to live anymore. I think his battery is dying."

Clue number three.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You talk way too much, and trust me, coming from me, it's a lot. I don't meet many people who talk more than me. Plus, I gave them exactly the same nicknames, and now I'm 200% sure you're not real."

"Maybe I'm real and you're just not as original as you thought?"

"Impossible."

Peter laughed at that and Wade liked the sound. He thought he would like to hear more of it. Peter extended his hand and waited for Wade to take it, introducing himself, quite unnecessarily, but politely anyway. Wade shook his hand without thinking, completely forgetting about how Peter might react to the feeling of his scarred palm. After all, his face was hidden under the hood and akeffiyeh, so there was nothing that could have prepared Peter for the touch of his skin. But Peter didn't even flinch, he just nodded and smiled awkwardly, waiting for something. It took Wade a moment to realize he hadn't told Peter his name yet.

"Wade. Wade Wilson."

"So tell me, Wade Wilson, what's up with you, besides being crazy and stuck on some godforsaken road in a bus full of total strangers? Enjoying yourself? I know I do. Wanna show your face, maybe?"

"God, you're annoying. Is that how I sound to other people? You make me want to reevaluate me life. And what's up with you? Don't you know any better than to tag along with your friends as a third wheel and then be forced to nag strangers to avoid getting an awkward boner when they get on with it? It's like you were born yesterday."

"Wow, aren't you an asshole. They got together yesterday, actually. Felicia crashed my party, not the other way round."

"Jealous?"

"Gross. He's like my brother. And she is the girl you used to have a crush on and now you just want the earth to swallow you whole when you think about it because you can't understand why it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Wade nodded understandingly, glancing at Felicia snuggling up Matt's side, a happy smile on her face. Must be nice. He looked back at Peter, who was smirking knowingly, as if he was asking, Who's jealous now? Wade grimaced, and he was suddenly very upset over the fact that Peter couldn't see that. Trying not to overthink his decision, he carefully started unwrapping the keffiyeh from his face and looked straight at Peter. He must have seemed really ugly, with scars from burns and cuts and scratches all over his face, but Peter didn't seem to think that. He was looking at Wade with wide but calm eyes raking over his face chaotically, but lingering on his eyes or lips from time to time, as if he was trying to see past the scars. To see Wade.

Clue number four.

"They're mostly self-inflicted," Wade said, unasked. "That's what they told me in the hospital. But some are from the time I was in the military. Or from when I was a kid. I got them before I went crazy, but they didn't make me crazy. At least I don't think they did. All of my body looks like this. I've got cuts, gunshot wounds, bites and scratches from both wild and domestic animals, fire burns, acid burns, cigarette burns, you name it. Hm… Maybe they did make me crazy after all."

"Are you trying to scare me off?" Peter asked in a small voice, his body shivering lightly, but his eyes not leaving Wade's face. It was really brave of him, Wade had to admit that. He deserved honesty for his courage.

"I'm honestly not sure. I think I am, but I also don't really believe you're really here. I'm just playing it safe, I guess."

"If I'm not here, where am I? Where are you?"

"You're in my head and I'm lying on a cold table hooked up to some machine telling a bunch of scientists what's going on in my brain. Or something. I don't know. Maybe I'm just having a regular episode, relatively safe in my home, or in the institution. Or I actually got on that bus and I'm just taking a nap and dreaming. Or this piece of crap really broke down and I'm just scaring you for no good reason. I don't know. I never know what's real anymore. I told you I was crazy."

Peter hummed thoughtfully but didn't say anything. What was there to say? Wade was fucking crazy and he dumped all his crazy on some stranger who looked young enough to have never heard of schizophrenia outside of A Beautiful Mind. It was amazing enough that Peter was still here, and not telling everyone on the bus to throw and lock Wade out and pray the help comes soon.

Clue number five.

"Okay guys!" Richie Rich suddenly got up from his seat and started walking towards Bus Driver. "I wasn't going to say anything, because I'm a cheap bastard, but it looks like we're gonna spend the night here and I'm bored. Help me get my stuff here, I have lots of booze."

Reactions among the passengers varied. Uptight Soldier looked even more uptight, but Businesswoman, Creepy Biker and Hot Redhead looked relieved. Her Boyfriend was so happy, he almost pissed himself. Felicia meowed suggestively, and Matt chuckled and shook his head. Peter didn't react at all, still deep in thought, but after a moment he shook out of it and looked at Wade questioningly. Wade shrugged. He didn't care. Bus Driver and Richie Rich came back with six large suitcases, and Richie started sliding them down the floor for people to grab and open. Peter reached for the one that stopped next to his feet and took out two bottles of tequila. He waved them in front of Wade's face, smiling encouragingly. Wade did like tequila.

Soon all the passengers changed their seats to sit closer together, even Bus Driver – Bruce – joined them, even though he refused to drink. He said that when he was drinking, the beast in him got completely loose and that he was at work too. Lame excuse, if you asked Wade. Everyone had gotten chatty, so before one hour had passed, Wade knew much more than he would like to know about any of those people. Captain Steve Rogers was actually the reason for the famous Tony Stark to travel by bus – he refused to get on Stark's private jet, so Tony got on the bus instead, insisting on them getting Rogers back home together. Gross, if they hadn't been banging already, they definitely should. Peter agreed. Natasha and Clint were "currently financially struggling stuntmen," which automatically made them Felicia's new heroes – she was a gymnast. Matt, who studied law, immediately hit it off with Jennifer, who turned out to be not a businesswoman, but a lawyer, returning home after winning a court case. In her own words, she had been experiencing slight rental car problems. Not really surprising. Frank was an ex-cop, but he wouldn't tell anything more than that, like for example where he had lost his bike. Peter didn't even glance in Frank's direction again after the look he received for asking that question. Peter was visiting his aunt for spring break. He was studying biophysics, which meant he was even a bigger nerd than Wade had initially suspected. Still, it was rather sweet he'd chosen to spend his free time with his remaining family. Wade would have probably done that too, if he had any.

No one seemed to be put off by Wade's looks, but it might have been because he kept his hood on and his head low. And they were all pretty drunk. The atmosphere in the bus was pretty joyful. Wade hated that word, but he couldn't come up with anything else. It really seemed more like a tavern full of pirates than a broke down bus full of regular people. When Natasha was drunk on vodka enough to start performing a striptease, Clint suggested poker, or ceiling watching, he was fine with either. They didn't have cards, but they were drunk enough to go back in time to high school and start playing truth or dare. Well, everyone except Frank. Frank was definitely too cool for that. Wade missed his chance to back out, because Peter leaned in to fanboy over Captain Rogers, and Wade lost his focus. Peter was warm, just like his breath. Wade didn't really hear anything Peter was saying, mostly because he gave up listening when Peter slumped over on his arm and started talking to Wade's collarbone instead of his ear. Wade didn't mind. Someone was more or less willingly touching him without and ulterior motive. It was nice.

Clue number six.

"So, Wade, was it," slurred Stark. "Isn't he a bit too young for you?"

"I don't think you've got any room to talk. How old are you, fifty? Besides, I'm not doing anything. He just needs a little time to get his shit together. Which he lost thanks to your courtesy, may I add. So why don't you give me a break and worry about your own romantic interests."

"I believe I didn't say anything about romance," hummed Stark, smiling insincerely. "Now it makes me wonder. Do you have any romantic interest in this kid here?"

"My current romantic interest is Death, and she's a possessive mistress, I wouldn't dare lay my eyes on somebody else."

No one said anything to that, Wade could only feel Peter tense on his shoulder. Frank was the first to snort, and after that everyone just cracked up. They were laughing, but it wasn't vicious. It was a good-natured laughter, as if they thought that Wade had just made a really good joke. And maybe he did, if you considered that the nature of his relationship with Death was purely imaginary. It felt real to Wade, but he knew it wasn't real by anyone else's standards. Peter was the only one not to laugh. He had lifted his head and he was looking at Wade now, lost in thought, sad. As if he believed Wade. As he was thinking how hard it was for Wade to be separated from Her. Or wondering why Wade would still keep himself away from Her. Wade didn't know. Maybe he had never tried out of fear. Maybe he had and failed like at everything else in his life. Maybe he hadn't and he was already dead. Wade's life was just too full of maybes.

And he was tired. He tuned out the white noise of grown-ass people playing kids' games while drunk, and listened to Peter's heartbeat. It sounded real. But so many other things in Wade's life did. They felt, looked, smelled, and even tasted real too. But they weren't. This probably wasn't either. He had experienced something similar before, many, many times. Sometimes he came to on his own after some time. Sometimes he had to get torn out of the illusion by someone from the outside. Sometimes he had to get rid of illusion, playing by the illusion's rules. He tried to remember this scenario from the start. Why and when he had been released. Had he escaped? And the money for the bus? He tried to remember what was in his backpack. Was there a gun? There were too many holes in this one. He couldn't really remember anything before hearing Bruce talk about the engine problems. He couldn't remember.

Clue number seven.

He could feel it before he heard it, Peter laughing by his side, light and happy; hurting Wade's heart. He watched Clint doing a hand stand, which was pretty impressive for someone so drunk. He listened to Jennifer telling the story about losing her virginity. He saw Felicia's breasts, and Tony's butt. A fucking kindergarten, really. Wade smiled. He ruffled Peter's hair, and when the boy looked at him, his own smiled widened. This complete stranger, this bright boy with incredible future before him, was happy that Wade was having a good time.

Clue number eight.

Wade slowly got up, excusing himself with a bladder situation, so no one paid much attention. He got off the bus and got on the side of the road. Not one car in almost three hours. They really where in the middle of nowhere. The night sky was clear, so Wade took a moment to look at the stars and breathe in the fresh air. It felt great. He heard a roar of laughter from inside of the bus and smiled to himself. Spending time with all these people was such fun. It only remained to decide which he would have to kill to wake up.