Leaving Siryn behind, Deadpool entered the room labelled "Killebrew". It turned out to be a bit like a classroom on a college campus, with six table neatly lined up in two rows, facing a desk at the front of the room. For the most part, the room was bare, but a door at the far end of the room caught his attention.

Hey, there's probably something in there.

Oh, I do hope we find Frankenstein's Monster! I mean, Dracula exists in this world, apparently, why not Frankenstein?

Wait, Dracula is real?

"What, you've never read Blade? Or watched Blade Trinity?" Deadpool asked making his way towards the door.

I've only seen the first two movies, actually. Dracula's in the third movie?

So is Triple H!

"And Ryan Reynolds."

But we won't hold that against them.

Once he got to the door, Deadpool slowly opened it. And once he got a good look into the room, even he had to admit it was a little surprising. It was a small room, with a few computer screens showing a different lab and a hallway each.

"What the hell?" Deadpool asked.

Gotta admit, this one's weird.

"Do you like it, Mr. Wilson?" a voice said.

Deadpool's head snapped to his left. On the other side of the room, in all his five-foot-six glory, was Dr. Killebrew. The short and stout man was behind some transparent wall, seated on a chair with his hands folded onto his lap and one leg over the other. He was looking onto Deadpool with a special interest. Behind him was yet a bookshelf and a computer of his own.

Without any hesitation, Deadpool quickly pull out his pistol and fired three shots at Killebrew. To the doctor's credit, he didn't move as they slammed into the wall between the two. Beneath his mask, Deadpool couldn't help but grimace as he stepped forward, emptying the clip into the wall. He had hoped that getting closer would allow the bullets to penetrate the glass and go into the doctor's skull, but there was no such luck.

Killebrew chuckled. "Didn't even blink, did you?"

Deadpool looked him up and down. "Still keeping the porn 'stache?" He looked around. "Nice place. Lucky for you, it isn't within one hundred yards of a school, huh?"

"Yes, indeed, the experiments we perform are not for the eyes of ones who have not been scarred by life," Killebrew replied easily.

"That's not exactly what I meant, but sure, let's go with that." As Deadpool was talking, he ejected the empty magazine out of his gun before putting in another one. "Give me a sec, I gotta work out how I'm getting in there to bash your skull in."

"You could do that," Killebrew agreed. "Or, you could listen to what I have to say."

"Look, you can make as many excuses as you want for your white, windowless van, but we both know the real reason you have it," Deadpool said, aiming the gun at the glass again. "Hey, how many licks do you think it'll take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of this Tootsie Pop? Because I have a lot of licks in me."

"Do you know why I brought you here, Mr. Wilson?"

"I don't really care," Deadpool replied, stepping towards the glass and knocking on it a couple times. He rubbed his chin and muttered to himself, "I wonder how much Semtex…?"

Twenty ounces, tops.

Dang it, I forgot my Semtex at home. Mom always said we had an abysmal memory.

"Abysmal"? Did you learn a new word today?

Past couple days, actually. What? I can try out new things.

Killebrew let out a small chuckle. "Oh, but I think you will. I'm willing to offer you something."

"You think I want anything you're willing to give? Right, because that worked out so well last time," Deadpool replied. He pulled up his mask briefly, letting the doctor look at his scarred visage. "I'm really enjoying the results."

Pulling his mask back down, he took a few steps back, pulling out his shotgun. "Now, shut up so I can concentrate."

"I'm willing to give you back everything."

That gave Deadpool pause. He tilted his head. "What?"

Killebrew smiled. "Everything that Weapon X took from you. Your face, your mind… your mortality. I can give it back."

Don't believe him.

Listen to what he has to say first, dude.

"Shut up," Deadpool said to the voice before aiming the shotgun at the glass. "Keep talking."

Killebrew held up his hands and got to his feet. "You were a failure of an experiment. I don't mean to be rude or callous, but facts are facts. We didn't get what we want from you. Normally, we would just dispose of the failure, but with you, I'm able to rectify the mistake."

Deadpool's shotgun waivered. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," Killebrew replied. "Call it clearing my conscious. It's why I'm helping Tom. We did that to him as well."

He's obviously lying, we can't believe him.

But think about what he's offering! How long have we been like this? We're not even able to show our face without having people look at us, and not in a good way!

We believed him once before and look where that got us. Do we really want to risk it again?

I don't know about you, but I'm tired of living like this! We can't even die!

While this turmoil was going on in Deadpool's mind, the building shook. He stumbled slightly, turning to look at the screens. Now, they were showing an image of Siryn battling Tom, and losing.

"Look at her go," Killebrew said with a hint of amusement. "We both know she isn't strong enough. But that's okay. There's no reason for you to save her. What do you owe her anyway?"

Deadpool looked back at Killebrew. Now, his gun was shaking.

"Come with me, Wade," Killebrew said, holding out his hand. "I'll let you in, and we can leave. Leave her behind."

The merc glanced up to the ceiling.

We have to save her.

No! We can become ourselves again!

Listen to yourself. That woman helped us when she had no reason to. Would it be right to just abandon her?

The doc's right, we don't owe her nothing!

"This is a one-time offer, Mr. Wilson," Killebrew said. "If you save her, I won't help you."

Deadpool glanced away briefly. His mind was racing. "So, let me get this straight; I leave now, leave Red to die, and I get my face back? I get my life?"

Killebrew smiled warmly. "That's the idea."

The gun stopped shaking. "It's your lucky day, Jared." He returned the gun to his back before turning around and walking towards the door. "Sayonara."

The doctor's smile dropped instantly. "I beg your pardon?"

"Consider this an extension of your warranty, Killebrew," Deadpool called out behind him as he left. "Use it wisely."

As Deadpool left, Killebrew huffed out a sigh of frustration. "Can't win them all, I suppose," he muttered to himself, before quickly making his leave.

Meanwhile, the mercenary was sprinting to where Siryn was.

What are you doing?! That was our one chance, and you blew it!

She should still be fighting. She's a fighter.

"Yeah, she is," Deadpool agreed, skipping several steps as he raced up the stairs. He skidded into the hallway, slamming into the wall. It barely registered to him as he was already speeding down the hall. He stopped at the door, hearing the crashing of the fight going on.

He kicked the door open and stared in brief surprise. Tom was choking the life out of Siryn. The bastard was raising his fist, ready to strike. Deadpool acted quickly. He pulled out one of his swords, rushed towards Tom, and ran him through.

Deadpool shouted, "Top of the mornin' to ye, Tom!"

Tom grabbed hold of the blade and got to his feet, trying to fight Deadpool's iron grip on it. The merc was having none of it, however, and pushed the sword in deeper. Blood spurted from Tom's mouth as his grip loosened on the blade.

Deadpool pointed Tom away from Siryn and kicked him away. The Irishman crashed into a table and fell to the floor. Taking the brief respite granted, Deadpool kneeled next to Siryn. "You okay, Red?" he asked.

Siryn coughed and sputtered as she was helped to her feet. "W-Wade?"

"No need to thank me, just being awesome," Deadpool said, shrugging.

She looked down at her costume. "Whose blood is this?"

"Well, you see—", Deadpool started, but was interrupted by the sounds of glass shattering.

Both he and Siryn turned to look over at Tom get to his feet, Deadpool's sword still stuck in him. He gripped the blade and broke it in half. He then gripped the handle and began pulling it out, screaming out in pain as he did so.

As soon as it was out, he let it clatter to the floor, taking several deep breaths. His gaze then shot towards Deadpool and Siryn. But they weren't looking at him. They were looking at the wound on Tom's chest close and heal.

"Okay," Deadpool said in monotone. "What?"

"A gift from the good doctor, Deadpool," Tom said, straining against the pain. "I got yer healing, ye cunt. Ain't no way ye'll kill me now."

Siryn looked up from the wound in Tom's eyes. "Explanation. Now!"

"He used the blood from me and that bastard's last cath, and used it to synthesize a special gift fer me to fight ye, Deadpool."

The merc guffawed. "Jokes on you, asshole! Didn't the good doctor tell you that anyone who gets inject with some Deadpool-Juice turns into a puddle of goo after only a few hours?!"

"That's the best part," Tom chuckled out. "He was able to make it so that the serum only lasts an hour. It'll work its way out me system after that, preventing the more ghoulish side effects." He smiled ear to ear. "And I got a half-hour left. Think ye can outlast me?"

Deadpool pulled out his remaining katana and shotgun. "They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattering, but honestly? I'm pretty damned insulted."

"Is that the cure ye were talking about, Tom," Siryn demanded. "Deadpool's blood?"

"That's part of it," Tom admitted. "But the good doctor was only able to get me that much." He flexed his claws. "I'm gonna need to take a little more out of ye!"

With that, he lunged forward, swiping at Deadpool. The merc and the X-Man expertly dodged the lunge. Deadpool spun in the air, throwing his sword tip-first at Tom. The Irishman knocked it out of the way and chased down the merc, but Siryn let out a sonic scream, knocking him sideways.

He crashed into a wall, slightly dazed and caught off guard when Deadpool slammed into him, pointing his shotgun directly under Tom's chin. Knowing that, even with a healing factor, shotguns hurt, and knocked it aside. Unfortunately for him, the shotgun still went off, ripping apart his shoulder. He scream in agony, but still fought through the pain to use his good arm to grab hold of Deadpool's face.

He concentrated and started to charge a fire ball. Deadpool squirmed in his grip. "Owowowhothothot!" Tom would've fired the blast, incinerating Deadpool's head completely, had Siryn not flown from behind and sent all three into the next room.

The wall gave out under the weight, causing the fireball to dissipate and Deadpool to land on top of Tom. Deadpool rolled off of him and glared up at Siryn floating in the air. "What's the big idea?! At least warn a guy before you pull a stunt like that!"

"Sorry!" Siryn said firmly but sincerely. "I figured you rather me run into you full speed than get your head burned off. Are you hurt too bad?"

"STOP IGNORING ME!" Tom yelled, throwing two fireballs at Siryn. She dodged it without much effort but wasn't expecting the follow up. The second fireball slammed into her dead on. She was slammed into the ceiling. Falling like a brick.

"Red!" Deadpool cried out, leaping forward and catching her in his arms. He rolled to a stop and looked her over. "You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," she bit out, hobbling to her feet. "Hit me head pretty bloody hard, though."

Tom gave them no extra time, rushing into their personal space and slapping Siryn away with a force that surprised both her and Deadpool. The Irishman used this moment of surprise, and his now healed arm, and slashed at Deadpool chest, tearing chunks out of it with his claws. Tom let out a deranged laugh as he continued to dig into the merc.

Deadpool was undeterred, however. He pushed Tom away and used the brief opening to pull out his assault rifle. He quickly raised it and unloaded onto his opponent. Tom was riddled with bullets, being pushed back by the onslaught.

But despite the rain of bullets, he didn't fall, nor did he even drop to one knee. He stayed and persisted despite the pain. He gritted his teeth and began walking forward.

Deadpool's eyes widened in panic as his gun ran dry. There was only a slight pause between two before Tom charged him again. But the suddenly appearing Siryn wrapped her arms around Tom and held him back. "What the-?" he exclaimed but didn't get anything else out before she flew them both up.

Before they could both slam into the ceiling, Siryn, ever so slightly, angled Tom in front of her, using him as a battering ram and crashing through the next floor. She let Tom flop to the floor, broken, before she floated back through the hole she made and grabbed ahold of Deadpool.

"C'mon, Wade, this ain't finished yet," she said. She lifted both herself and the injured merc into the next floor as Tom's bones had already healed and he was beginning to stand.

"This ain't nothin'," he muttered to himself, slowly getting up from one knee. "This ain't fucking' nothin'!"

"Hey, Lucky Charms!"

Tom looked up in surprise to find that his niece had thrown Deadpool at him.

"Fastball Special!" the merc cried out as he used the momentum to plunge a knife deep into the Irishman's sternum and sent both sprawling. Tom let out a pained yell and gripped the knife, but Siryn had already dropped next to him and let out as strong of a Scream as she could.

Tom felt his bones shake and his eardrums burst. He screamed in agony, covering his ears as best he could from the onslaught. Siryn stepped closer, intensifying the pain, not noticing the wild grin that appeared across her uncle's face. Without warning and with a frightening speed, he reached out and applied a vice grip around her neck.

She sputtered and choked, but even that paled to Tom's next move. He took her and slammed her to the ground. He adjusted his grip to cover her full face before slamming her head into the ground with enough force to crack the floor. Tom let a chuckle slip before doing it again. And again. And again.

He lifted her head up again for another blow, but Deadpool leapt onto his back, reached around, and grabbed ahold of the knife. Tom stumbled forward, releasing Siryn and letting her head flop to the ground, as he tried to fight Deadpool off him. The merc gripped the knife tightly and started twisting.

Tom screamed again, throwing his head back and headbutting into Deadpool's face. That knocked the merc off his back, giving Tom the time need to rip the knife out. Blood splattered the ground and poured from the wound.

Tom's shoulder rose and fell rapidly. "This ain't… nothin'…," he said between breaths.

"What's wrong, Lucky Charms?" Deadpool said with a smile, getting to his feet. "You look tired. You doing okay?"

"The hell did ye do to me?" Tom asked, clutching his chest wound. It was closing slower than before.

Deadpool walked over to Tom and kicked him in the face, sending him to the ground. "Let me give you a brief lesson; Just because you got my healing factor don't mean you got infinite stamina."

The Irishman looked up at him, stealing taking in deep breaths. "The fuck you talkin' about?"

"Not only that, but what you have is nothing more than the Bollywood version of my own, prestige healing factor," Deadpool went on. "Did you not think you wouldn't have burned through that little steroid of yours when you attacked me like a wild dog?"

Tom's eyes widened in anger. "Shut up!"

He leapt to his feet, throwing an easily dodged punch. Deadpool casually sidestepped him, returning the favor with a knee strike to the stomach and a double axe-handle to the head. The blows staggered Tom, but they did not fell him.

"Honestly, your biggest mistake was trying to get all intimate with me," Deadpool explained. "If you had fought like you did last time, and with that healing factor, you would've been unstoppable."

"The only reason ye have the balls to say that is 'cause of the girl," Tom growled out.

"Red? Oh, yeah, she helped. I would've been much worse for wear without her, but c'mon, buddy. Look at you." The merc didn't make another move at the wounded Irishman. "You're on your last legs. How much time do you think you have left with that little concoction Killebrew cooked up for you?"

"The fight ain't finished until I've gutted ye like a fish!" Tom scream, standing to his full height with tremendous effort. He flexed his claws.

Deadpool pulled out one last knife and cracked his neck. "Fine, then. Looks like Daddy's gonna have to discipline you."

After a second's hesitation, they charged each other. They were both screaming at each other as loudly as they could before they collided. Tom plunged his claws as deep into Deadpool's guts as he could. Deadpool, for his part, slid the knife into Tom's sides, pushing through the ribcage and into the lungs.

Tom coughed up a mountain of blood, while Deadpool gritted his teeth and fought through the immense pain he was feeling. "The other thing about my healing," the merc said, "is that you still feel every bit of pain. So, tell me, Tom Selleck."

He twisted the knife.

"How would you rate your pain?"

He ripped the knife out and stepped backwards, letting Tom's hand slide out from his side. Deadpool made sure to keep his guts inside of him as he watched the Irishman stagger in place for a moment. Tom looked Deadpool in the eye, gave him a glare that would make Batman wince, before spitting a wad of blood at him.

With that last bit of defiance, Tom fell backwards, sprawled out as blood began to pour under him. Deadpool, for his part, let out a deep sigh, finally able to take a breath. He could feel the hole in his side closing, but he would need a few hours, if not days, for the wound to be gone completely.

Tom Selleck?

"What? He's Irish, too, right?"

…No.

"Oh."

He limped over to an upturned chair and set it upright. Deadpool plopped himself onto it and let out another deep sigh and waited for both Siryn and Tom to wake back up. He had time. Nothing but time.