Hey guys! So it's been a minute since Our Miracle, but if any of you read that story, I want you to know that this is going to be a much heavier story. I want to go for something with more angst and I figured that I could do that with a Deadpool story since we don't know everything that happened to him when he was a human.

We know bits and pieces, but not the whole story which gave me a lot of room for creative writing! Also, sorry for not making an authors note for the last two chapters, I really wanted you guys to just have the story that I promised months ago, so when they posted, I completely forgot to put a note xD OH WELL!

Okay! Now that the authors note is done, on with the story! All of the Deadpool characters do not belong to me, majority of the story is mine, but all of the actual story line remains with Stan Lee and Marvel~

Chapter Two

Here I am again, standing in front of my bathroom mirror, staring back at the bruised and ugly girl I once recognized as myself. Thankfully I'm not crying anymore, but that does nothing for all of the pain that I'm feeling.

The pink bruise underneath of my right eye is quickly turning purple and making my eye twitch from the ache. My lower lip is cut and bleeding, the air making my cut sting, while my nostril has blood cascading down to end its trail at my chin. I don't even dare to touch it with my bare hands, knowing it won't help.

I grab a Kleenex as I wipe my nose clean of the blood, but once I get to my nose, it just forces more blood out. I curse under my breath before putting my head back and holding the tissue there, trying to stop the bleeding. After a few minutes my legs feel weak from the thrown off balance. I bring my head back down and throw the tissue away.

My trash can is starting to look more like a crime scene rather than a trash bin. I stare back at my reflection and grimace before picking up my concealer. I start to unscrew it, but it falls out of my hands and as I look down to see where it landed, I see my hands shaking. A part of me broke right there, I wrapped my arms around myself and hugged the counter as I sobbed.

To think, someone who was supposed to love me, to care deeply about me, someone who was supposed to take care of me, can do this much damage to me.

I thought back to Wade, I always do when I get like this. I remember the night that he came over when it was raining, but it wasn't just raining, there was lightning, and it scared me. Although I was a senior in high school, I've never liked lightning, the way it could just kill someone in less than a second, it frightened me. I had never told Wade that before, but the night he came over was the very first time he found out. He tried to find me in my house, but I wasn't in my room or the living room, there were too many windows and I hated the thought of being so close to the lightning. I had hidden myself in the darkest part of my house.

My laundry room had a corner that blocked out almost all noise and barely any light came in. I didn't even hear Wade come in, but I saw his tall figure pass by the sink across from where I was and I weakly called out his name. He turned and practically bolted to me. He knelt down in front of me to pull me close, "Jesus Christ, Emily, what are you doing back here? I've been looking for you everywhere," I held onto his jacket as I shook, quietly whispering, "I'm sorry,"

He pulled back to look down at me and saw how shaken I was. He grabbed my arms and pulled me to my feet before picking me up to hold me in his arms, one hand supporting my back, the other under my legs. My heart skipped a beat as I thought of how little Wade showed his affection. I held on tightly, one of my hands digging into his shoulder while the other grasped his hair. I leaned into his shoulder as I tried to calm down.

"You don't like the lightning, do you, Emily?" I nodded in agreement and he sighed before sitting down, me between his legs, and just stroked my back comfortingly.

As I look back on it, I really didn't appreciate all of the wonderful things Wade did for me. That entire night he stayed up with me until I fell asleep and then he went home. I won't deny it and say that I didn't miss him because I did, that's probably the exact moment I knew that I deeply cared about Wade Wilson, and not as a friend.

A smile starts to curl at my lips at the thought of the memory, but it is quickly tucked away when I hear an unexpected bang come from my living room. My body automatically tenses and I look over my shoulder to see the door knob rattling.

I start to shake again, and as much as I want to cower and scream for help, I knew there was no point, he was still going to hurt me.

I swallowed my fear before turning away from the sink to go unlock the bathroom door. Next thing I knew the man that supposedly loved me, came barging in with his fist raised high before making contact with my face