Surprisingly Wade doesn't talk much in this chapter. As I wrote I realized that when you're having a day like this there's only so many times you can curse. So anyway this chapter is centered on Wade, but the next one will be from Rona's POV. And as always read and review.

It was strange, this place that Wade suddenly found himself in. Every few steps another confused and broken memory arose.

It was beginning to annoy him.

He was already aware that there was something that he was forgetting. He already damn well knew that trudging around some place that looked like it got hit by a bomb and not remembering anything pointed towards mental instability. He also found it strange that no matter how straight he stood there was something off about his walk. He reached behind and clasped unsure fingers across his back.

"Lookin' for these, Wilson?"

Wade Wilson, was that his name? Way to be a superhero cliche.

He turned and saw a man that looked less human than animal. He wanted to say that the man was someone that he knew, but at the time his addled mind knew that that would be lying. The guy definitely knew him and didn't think too fondly of him, what with the way he insisted on cracking the bones in his neck before moving closer.

Wade looked down at what the man was holding. They were two gleaming pieces of metal, finely crafted weapons. He could make them sing when he used them on jobs, and there was almost nothing that they couldn't cut through. They were objects that complemented his abilities well.

"Those're mine."

"You don't sound too sure, Stryker must've really fucked with your head."

"Who are you?"

"Ah, and there's the million dollar question," the bearded man pointed the sword at Wade's chest before tossing it to the ground, "but the one you should really be askin' is...who're you?"

"I dunno, but I have a feeling that if you won't tell me I can always beat the shit out of you, which'll at least make me smile."

"Same ol' Wade."

The larger man leapt forward, but Wade sidestepped effortlessly. He thumbed his nose playfully and beckoned for the feral mutant to come forward. Another leap he leaned out of the way of the punch and backhanded the man sharply. A sting of pain bothered him, but quickly faded.

"Ow, buddy your head's fuckin' hard," he said chuckling. He rang his hand out in a mock gesture and laughed as the man attacked, his claws extending further. He felt sharp, shooting, spasms of pain start near his ribs. The wounds weren't deep and he tentatively touched the blood. However, as he attempted to hold the wound he felt the gashes grow smaller. He looked up at the wild man and raised an eyebrow.

"Could I always do that?"

"That's new."

"Huh, so they shave my head and give me the ability t' heal. Y'know in retrospect I think I woulda said fuck the healing and kept the damn hair."

"I'm Victor Creed, the man's whose work you're currently criticizing is William Stryker. You're Wade Wilson, the unfinished mutant experiment Weapon XI. I don't know the pa'ticlars of the exchange all I know is...you volunteered."

Wade wiped away the blood on his pants, still not sure if anything was real.

"Why would I volunteer for this shit?"

"Fuck if I know. We weren't exactly friends. I would kill you if I knew how t' go about doin' it."

"Gee thanks."

"Don't thank me, thank Jimmy. He's the one that proved that you can get your head cut off and stick the damn thing back on. Here," he tossed the swords on the ground.

"Why help me?"

"The way I see it, only one of us gets to kill Stryker, this'll liven up the competition. Toppa that I don't think I'm in the mood for another fuckin' firesquad."

"Right," Wade muttered as he took the swords. He didn't have a sheath, so he simply held one in each hand. Victor gave a mock salute and then ambled off, probably to maul some innocent human being, Wade thought.

So he was an experiment? That didn't really make sense. He didn't strike himself as desperate.

. .. . .. . ..

It was an island, a goddamn island to be exact. Wade yelled loudly, cursing at the waves and the X amount of boats that floated far from shore that seemed content to mock him. After a few more minutes of angry fist shaking he decided that if there was any kind of God there had to be a boat somewhere on the island.

He walked.

And he walked.

He circled the entire island, but found no docks and more specifically no boats. It was more than a little disheartening. He decided that the next course of action would be to swim to the shore that was close enough to mock him, but far enough away that it would take him awhile before he could grind his boots into it.

He stuck his foot into the water. It was cold.

"Just like Rona's ice tea."

He paused. That name had rolled right off of his tongue. He struggled to remember where had heard it, the face that went with it, but the thought disappeared just as quickly.

. .. . .. . ..

He managed to climb onto the pier without trouble, but regretted the wind that insisted on making him colder. His teeth clattered dangerously in his head as he rubbed his arms. He was lucky that everyone was too busy concentrating on the obvious destruction on the island otherwise he'd have been noticed.

It wouldn't have been good to notice someone with an unhealthy obsession with body art and two large samurai swords strapped to his hips with coarse rope. he moved quickly ducking between buildings, hiding at the first sight of people. He moved into a shop that sold men's clothes and caught sight of the sales clerk.

"Please," she whispered her hands raised," I don't want any trouble."

She was visibly shaking and Wade felt a little bad.

"Can I borrow some clothes?"

Not bad enough to take some clothes without paying, however.

He strode out of the store holding a red tee and cargo pants. After perusing the shop, which seemed devoid of any decent fashions or dressing rooms he fell upon the two articles of clothing with something akin to joy. He supposed as he looked down at the shirt, that red was his favorite color.

Before leaving with the clothes he turned to the clerk again.

"Y-yes," she yelped.

"Relax lady, I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna know where I am."

"Oh, well, um you're in Dauphin, Pennyslvania."

"Pennsylvania? Really? Shit. Ummm...know where I can find a bus station or somethin'?"

She had nodded given him directions and lent him some cash to get on. He nodded politely and walked out of the store clutching the clothes in his hands.