It had been a week since Wade had left his apartment. All he did in that week was drink, watch television and think about putting a bullet in his brain. It wouldn't work, obviously, but he liked how it felt to have a few minutes of pure peace.

But he was running out of booze and money. Living without that last one was easy, but he needed the sweet embrace of alcohol. It was really the only thing that kept him going.

Sister Margaret's was busy now, but that was usually when Patches was in. So, he'd stop by there, get a job, then be on his merry way to go and purchase his next supply of booze with the last little bit of money he had.

Right now, he wasn't dressed in his Sunday best. He wore a pair of worn jeans, a leather jacket over a zip-up hoodie with the hood pull all the way up, gloves and a pair of sunglasses. The damage around his mouth was visible, but he could only get away with so much, and he didn't feel like putting on his work uniform now.

He stepped into the church, happy to see Sister Anna in prayer with a few of the children. A smile plastered himself over his face when he saw Jessica and Amy there with her. As the door shut, the three of them turned around, and the children's face lit up with joy.

"Wade!" they both cried out, rushing towards him.

Wade crouched down with his arms spread wide open. "Girls!" he called back as he got tackled to the ground. The two girls put all their strength into the hug. Wade laughed, saying, "You girls are so strong now."

He was able to wave them off long enough to get to his feet. He still stayed crouching. "How are my favorite girls doing?"

"Sister Anna is helping us learn the bible!" Amy called out, beaming. She was missing a few teeth, them having fallen out a few weeks ago.

Wade smiled in wonder. "Wow, that's so cool!"

As they were talking, Sister Anna approached them, a slight smile on her face. She waited as Wade and the two girls were done. Jessica was talking excitedly that she was learning how to write in cursive, while Amy was squealing about a picture she drew. All the while, Wade was nodding and had his full attention on them.

Eventually after a few minutes, Anna shooed them away. "Alright, girls, you have some studying to do. I'm sure Mr. Pool has some business to do."

"But we wanted to show him our drawings," Jessica complained as Amy groaned.

"Hey, it's fine, I'll make sure to stop by another time," Wade said, ruffling Jessica's hair. "Besides, Sister Anna is right. How else are you going to know that Jesus discovered the last of the leprechauns and sent them to a far of land of rainbows and gold?"

Anna had to fight her ingrained instincts to shoot him a withering look, but when she looked down as the two girls' beaming faces, she couldn't help but give them a warm smile. She chuckled and added, "You forgot the part of the unicorns and the fairies, Mr. Pool."

Wade slapped his head. "Of course! Silly me!" He grinned down at the girls. "You have fun now, y'hear?!"

"Bye, Wade!" they said, before running off.

Wade's smile instantly fell as he looked at Anna. The nun noticed it. "Is everything alright, Mr. Pool?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't they be?" he said, not even trying to add any inflection to his voice. "Is Patches in today? I'm looking for a job."

"I believe I saw him go to his office, yes, although I haven't led them in prayer today," Anna replied. She tilted her head. "Is it about Theresa?"

Beneath his sunglasses, Wade's eyes narrowed. "It was nice seeing you, Sister," he said, turning towards the elevator. "Keep up the good work."

As the elevator traveled down, his mind went to work.

Don't say it.

Say what?

You know what I mean.

No, I really don't. You haven't spoken a whole lot lately. It's been rather unnerving.

You're thinking we're hung up over that Siryn broad.

"One; Don't call her that. Ever," Wade hissed. "Two; No, I'm not. I just figured I'd take a little bit off work to have a mental health day."

You stayed in your apartment and did nothing but drink alcohol, contemplate the meaning of life, and watching all 57 seasons of Guiding Light. In a week. How'd you even do that, by the way?

"I have my ways," he said defensively. "Besides, Grant Aleksander is a dreamboat."

Is he?

I believe we're getting distracted from the main issue.

"No, I'm not. I'd gladly talk about Guiding Light all day," Wade said. "It's almost as good as As The World Turns, but it lasted a few more seasons, so it's gotta—"

WADE.

"What's that?" he said, pretending not to hear. "Oh, no, looks like my stop seeyoulaterBYE!"

We're in your head.

Wade stepped into the Hellhouse, happy to find it being the same mess it always was. It's nice to have some stability in your life, he wagered. Not that it lifted his mood, but the occasional fist being thrown did a lot to lift his spirits. He made his way through the crowd to the bar, coming face to face with his friend Weasel.

Who promptly gagged at the sight of him.

"Oh, dude, you know the rule about the mask," the bespeckled man said. He did his best to not look at Wade. "Needs to be on at all times."

"Shut the fuck up and give me a drink," the merc grumbled, pulling his hood down further. "I'm not in the mood, Weas."

"Yeah, well, I'm not in the mood to see that face," Weasel replied. He reached down under the bar and pulled out a full bottle of vodka. "But here we are."

Wade swiped the bottle, twisted off the cap, and down the equivalent of four shots. To any normal person, they'd be shocked at the man chugging pure vodka. Weasel, however, didn't blink twice. The merc slammed down the bottle, let out a loud, "Ahhh."

He nodded. "I can feel it tearing apart my throat."

"Yeah, chugging vodka will do that," Weasel replied, a look of bored amusement on his face. He turned back to the drinks on the wall. "So, what are you doing here, Wade?"

"Hoping Patches could slide me a job," he replied, nursing the bottle. "Short little imp still owes me a few favors, figured I could get something nice."

"Booze stores getting low?" Weasel asked with a grin.

Wade's face twisted into a defensive scowl. "Among other things. So, he in?"

"Nah, he left about ten minutes before you got here. Some family errand, I think."

"That asshole's got a family?" the merc scoffed, taking another few swigs of the bottle. "Well, shit, looks like I came for nothing."

Weasel then perked up, as if he just remembered something. "Actually, you might not have." He pointed to a booth in the back corner of the bar, furthest away from the entrance. "You have a visitor."

Raising an eyebrow, Wade followed where the bartender was pointing to. And, wouldn't you know it, all the way across the bar, sitting alone with a glass of water in front of her, was the red-haired beauty herself.

Siryn.

She wasn't wearing her superhero tights today. Just a small, brown leather jacket, a green scarf, and what looked like a white t-shirt underneath. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, thrown across her shoulder. She looked amazing. And Wade immediately hid himself from her.

He scrunched up as small as he could make himself. "What's she doing here?" he frantically whispered.

Weasel shrugged. "She's been looking for you all week." There wasn't even a token effort to keep his voice down, although Wade figured it probably was drowned out by all of the other noise.

"She's been looking for me?" Wade asked.

Weasel nodded. "Yeah. No idea why. Just says she needs to talk to you."

Wade shook his head and cradled his vodka. He retreated into his mind to see what it had to say.

Should we talk to her?

Of course we should. We didn't exactly leave off on a high not, yeah?

Sure, but why should we care? We let her keep her Uncle-Father, we don't need to talk about anything.

Will we really be alright just leaving things as they were?

Yes, I am.

"But I'm not," Wade said aloud, clutching the bottle of vodka tighter.

Weasel raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on it. "If you're gonna talk to her, I'd do it soon. I know I sure wouldn't wait for your ugly face for too long."

Wade held up the bottle and said, "One more for courage." He then downed another few shots.

He got to his feet, nodded to Weasel, and made his way over to Siryn. He heard his friend shout, "Go get 'em, Tiger!" When he stopped at the table, she looked up at him and smiled. She actually smiled. He asked himself how often that happened, especially when it involved a cute girl.

"Hi, Wade," she said.

"Hello," he replied a little lamely. He felt as if he was put on the spot, even though he had the choice to just walk away.

"I've been meanin' to talk to you."

"Yeah, uh, Weasel told me." Wade slid into the booth across from her. "I'm here. What do you want to talk about?"

"I feel like we left some things unsaid," Siryn explained. "And I just wanted to talk without an intense moral dilemma hanging over us."

Wade nodded sheepishly. "Look, I… I'm sorry for what I said. I was angry."

"I could tell," she said. "And like I said back there, I understand. Tom's a bad man. Even without killing your wife, you have plenty reason to hate him."

"Yeah," he replied. "But I shouldn't have turned that hate to you. It's, ah… Look, I'm not good with this 'pouring-my-heart-out'-thing. Last time I talked to someone like this was, well, was with Vanessa."

"Why do I get the feeling you still weren't great even then?" Siryn asked with a small smile.

Wade shrugged. "What can I say? My stand-offish behavior is one of my many charms."

Siryn sniffed a couple times and made a face. Oh, great, Wade thought. She can smell the week of doing nothing. "Wade, what have you been doing the past week?"

Uh. "Well, I rescued a cat from a tree yesterday," he lied. "The day before that I helped my friend Bob clear out his garage. I solved world hunger and now parents can no longer use that 'starving children in Africa' line."

Siryn gave him a patient look. It was a look that Wade hadn't been given in a long time, at least not with the same effectiveness.

"Fine, I've spent the past week drinking alcohol and watching all 57 seasons of Guiding Light."

The X-Man couldn't help but do a double take. "How the hell did you do that?"

"Not important," he said, waving a hand. "The point is, I haven't felt… good. Worse than normal, actually."

"Why?"

"I really don't know. It's not like I've never been mean before. I'm a fucking mercenary, it comes with the job description. But, of all the people who I've worked with, been with, you are the only one who looked at me and didn't… flinch." He made it a point to leave out that he had indeed flinched when he took off his mask, but even the best of people would be surprised at his face.

Siryn shrugged. "I live with the X-Men, Wade. Logan was one of my teachers. Being a bit mean isn't gonna turn me away."

Wade chuckled. "What about being a chewed-up piece of beef jerky that's been left in the sun for twenty years?"

She sighed before taking a sip of her water. She cleared her throat. "I won't lie, Wade, it was… surprising, seeing what you look like. But, like I said, I'm an X-Man. Unconventional looks don't keep me off balance for long."

The merc looked down at his hands. His gloved hands. He took off the right one and held it up to Siryn. "It's not just my face, Red. My whole body is like this. Every square fucking inch. Makes communal showers a real awkward affair."

Siryn shook her head. "Wade, if feels as though you're trying to get me to leave you alone."

"No, no, that's not it," he replied, almost a little too quickly. "It's just… you need to know what you're getting into when you deal with me."

"Do you want to know what I think?" Wade looked apprehensive for a moment but nodded. Siryn smiled at him. "I think you're broken."

The merc couldn't help but scoff at that. "Gee, thanks. I feel much better."

"Broken," Siryn repeated, "but not irreparable."

Wade didn't say anything, so she continued. "When I first met you, Wade, I thought of you as a vulgar man with no morals and no regard for human life. Ignoring that first one, I can see beneath this mask you've put up for yourself. I saw the way you were about those kids, and Sister Anna. I don't think you're a bad man."

He shook his head. "You don't know me."

"I know you more than most," Siryn retorted calmly. "How many people have you willingly shown your face to? How many people know about those kids you bring here when they have no home? How many know about Vanessa?"

Wade chuckled. "You got me there." He leaned forward on the table. He was still averting his gaze. "You were right, though. I did some introspection. Killing Tom, it would've felt good. Real damn good." He noticed her tense up. "And if you weren't there, I don't think I would've stopped myself. But killing him? It wasn't going to do anything. Vanessa would still be dead, I'd still be beef jerky, and you'd be down a father. That wouldn't have helped either of us."

"Vengeance never does," Siryn said sadly. "Look, Wade, what you said did hurt. It felt as though I was being blamed for not wanting my father shot in front of me. But, once I looked past that, I understand where that hatred and pain comes from. What Tom did, it wasn't right. He deserved to be punished. But I won't let you murder a man, especially when he's been beaten."

Wade nodded but didn't immediately respond. He just fiddled with his glove. "I've been doing a lot of thinking."

"You told me."

"Yeah, but the thing I've been thinking about is..." He gestured vaguely. "I don't know. I guess, at the end of the day, I want to be better."

Siryn raised an eyebrow. "Better than what?"

"Myself," Wade quickly answered. "Like you said, I'm a broken man. And I want to fix myself. And I think the thing I'm going to work on first is the whole 'killing' thing." Air quotes were used around the word "killing."

Wait, we never discussed this.

This is a rather unilateral decision.

This is a complete disregard for the democratic process!

"Of course, if I'm in a corner, I'm fighting to get out," he quickly amended. "I ain't no Batman."

Siryn conceded the point. "That's fair. Though, I'm surprised."

"Yeah, well, I figure if I'm going to give this whole 'hero' thing a shot, I might as well do it the right way." Wade absently slid his glove back on.

"Give me your phone," Siryn suddenly asked.

Wade couldn't help but blink. "My what?"

"You're phone. Give it to me."

The merc reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He reached over and handed it to her. When she saw the background, a scantily glad woman posing with a photo of Deadpool making a "call me" hand gesture, she glanced up at him amused. He said nothing.

She quickly made some motions and rapidly typed something in. She slid it back to him. "There," she announced. "I just gave you my number. It's under the name 'Red'."

"Uh, okay?" Wade took the phone back and searched in his contacts. Sure enough, it was right there. "Why?"

"Because, despite your best efforts, I'm beginning to like you, Wade," she said with a smile. "And I don't want you to lose yourself. Wouldn't be fair to you."

Hold on, did our heart just skip a beat?

Aww, that's so precious.

"Red, I…" Wade stumbled over his words. "I don't—"

"Besides, I figured you'd appreciate a pretty woman giving you her number," Siryn added with a wink.

The merc grinned despite himself. "My, don't we have a high opinion of ourselves?" They both laughed at that. It felt nice, Wade realized. This wasn't like the drunken laughter he let out when he was hanging out with Weasel or Bob. It was real, genuine. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. That wasn't something he could say everyday.

Siryn looked at her watch before standing up. "I'm sorry, I have to head out. X-Men business, y'know? It was nice seeing you, Wade. Please, call me, alright?"

"Don't worry, Red," Wade said. "I think I'll keep bugging you for a little bit."

"What are you going to do now?"

He shrugged. "I think I'll sit here a bit. Think some things over. I'll be seeing you, Red."

Siryn gave him a warm smile before walking away. Wade's gaze followed her for a moment. He hadn't realized how good she looked in those pants.

That was a productive lunch, Siryn thought to herself as she walked out of the church. Wade was still Wade, but he had already changed so much from the man she found lying the alley with a hole through him.

With what was happening with the X-Men and the U.S. government at the moment, it was nice having some joy in her life. She never in a million years would have suspected Deadpool to be that joy, but he made her laugh. In his own, weird, Wade sort of way.

She hadn't spoken to Tom since that day. There wasn't any need to. He was locked up in a cell at Genosha, where he would undoubtedly spend the rest of his life. Of all the things he'd done, he had said, the only thing he regretted was not being able to see his songbird grow up into a wonderful woman. Cyclops had told her that. It almost made Siryn smile.

But Tom was long dead to her. The man she knew died in that mob attack. This man was just a shadow, a ghost. And she didn't feel like talking to a ghost. There was no better punishment than that, she figured, for all the thing he had done.

Suddenly, her phone rang, cutting through her thoughts. She pulled it out to check the number. Unknown. A quizzical brow raised, but she had a sneaking suspicion who was giving her a ring. She hit the answer button and said, into the phone, "Hello?"

"Yo, Red!" Wade's scratchy voice came through, made even more so by her phone speaker. "I was wonderin' if you were free on Friday? I know this Mexican place, and I'd love to bring you there."

Siryn couldn't help but smile. "You couldn't have asked me when I was down there?"

"Hey, you did tell me to call you," he casually replied. "Plus, you'd be surprised at how many cute girls give me fake numbers."

She couldn't help but shake her head, but she still let out a soft chuckle. "Alright, Wade, it's a date."

"Now, I didn't say it was a date or anything," he hurriedly correct. "Just two friends getting together to have a chat over a bite to eat."

"You mean, like a date?"

A few seconds of silence passed. "I guess so, yeah. A date."

"Alright, fine. But only if we go to a sushi place for our next one."

"Uh, our next one?"

"Meet here at 5 o'clock Friday?" she asked.

Wade sputtered for a second over the phone before he let out a laugh. "Red, you are my kind of girl! 5 o'clock, Friday night. Au revoir, mon ami!"

"Bye, Wade, I'll see you then." The smile was still on her face when he ended the call.

No, she didn't expect to become involved with Wade Wilson. He was a strange man, a broken man, a man with some serious need of better hygiene management, but he isn't a bad one. Even if Wade himself wouldn't admit that.

Her smile fell though. There was trouble brewing over the horizon, she could tell. It wasn't going to be pretty. Even with Tom behind bars, there were threats far bigger than him. The President of the United States all but declared war on Mutantkind, and the X-Men could do nothing about it. If they acted first, it would spark an international incident, and not even Genosha would be safe.

That was probably was Cyclops was calling them back for. That's all they ever really talked about, boosting defenses and training. A war was brewing, Siryn knew. A war that was going to end bloody and violent, no matter which side came out on top. She was certain fighting wouldn't resolve anything, not on that scale, but it was going to happen. The President crossed a line, and there was no going back from that.

Siryn just hoped that everything would do out okay. She'd do everything in her power to make sure it did.

After all, what more could she do?

To Be Continued...