Siryn hadn't a clue where to look.

She had ditched her "X" duds for a pair of dress pants, a button-white shirt, a black leather jacket, and a green scarf. That last one was incredibly stereotypically Irish, but she couldn't help but love the color green. Always had as a small girl. But that was neither here nor there.

Now, she was roaming the streets. She had already checked out the couple spots the mutant had hit, but they hadn't left much of a trace she could follow. There was certainly some collateral damage, some rubble left over here or there, but nothing concrete that she could trace back. She noted some blast damage, and a couple blood splatters. No deaths had been reported, according to the report Cyclops had sent her, but there were some minor injuries.

It had been a couple hours since she'd landed in the city and changed clothes. She blended right in for the most part, although a group of kids saw her land in her uniform. They rushed to their mothers, who proceeded to brush off their discovery. It made Theresa giggle when she saw their downcast faces.

She had stopped off at one of the food trucks and had ordered a burrito. She had developed a liking to Mexican food since she had moved to New York when she was a small child, and it wasn't a smart idea to work on an empty stomach. Or, a completely empty stomach, anyway.

Just as she was finishing it, she heard what sounded like an explosion. She was immediately caught off guard, spinning to where it sounded like it came from. It wasn't too close, but she could get there fast enough.

Another bang. And now some gunshots? The hell was going on over there?

She offhandedly tossed the rest of her meal in the trash as she shot up into the air and made off to investigate.

Deadpool tackled Tom to the ground, delivering a few solid blows before he was knocked off with a kick. The Irishman pointed a finger at the merc, letting out a concussive blast. It slammed into Deadpool, sending him back into the wall. He shook off the effects, reached down and pulled out a knife.

"What, didn't bring ye swords?" Tom mocked, chuckling slightly.

Deadpool cracked his neck. "Won't need 'em. Besides, I like getting up close and personal!"

He made a few swipes at Tom, just narrowly missing. For his part, the mutant returned the efforts with a knee to the stomachs, but Deadpool didn't fall. Instead, he grabbed the leg and sent the knife into Tom's leg, eliciting a cry of pain. Still holding the limb, he added, "It just makes the fight feel so much more intimate, yeah?"

Tom backhanded him away, before pulling the knife out and discarding it.

"Gonna rip yer head off fer that."

"Please, better men than you have tried," Deadpool shot back. "More handsome, too."

"I'll give ye handsome, ye bastard." Tom threw out a few more blast. Deadpool sprinted to the left, avoiding the worst of the attack, but one clipped in the side. He spun in the air but was able to right himself with a rolling landing.

He quickly brought up his pistol and started to fire on Tom. He only go off one shot before the Irishman closed the distance and grabbed Deadpool's arms. Tom pointed the guns to the sky and said, "What's the matter, Deadpool? Ye seem off."

"You're going to pay for what you did to her," Deadpool spat out.

"Ye mean 'Ness?" Tom chuckled. "Me only regret is that ye weren't there to see it."

"Shut up!" Deadpool smashed his forehead into Tom's, sending the two stumbling away from each other. The merc clutched his head. "Right. Never headbutt, always a bad move."

He aimed at Tom again, but he was just thrown back by another blast, knocking the guns from his hands. Tom stepped towards him. "Gotta admit, didn't think I'd be this lucky when looking for ye," he said. "When Enrique couldn't give me any clues, I figured I'd have to do some pretty deep digging."

He grabbed Deadpool by the neck and picked him up. The merc tried to throw a punch, but Tom caught the fist and crushed it, eliciting a shriek.

"But then I see ye looking for me, and that's got me thinkin'; What're the odds that we'd both be looking for each other at the same time? So, tell me. Why're ye after me?"

Deadpool coughed behind the mask. "Hired to take you out… some bigwig is upset at the trouble you've been causing… all to happy to take payment."

"I see." Tom tightened his grip. He muttered, "That fat bastard…"

"Wha..?"

"Ye don't know, do ye?" That made the Irishman laugh. "Ye poor fool. Unlike you, I don't need to kill ye. That would be a bonus. No, I just need a piece of ye. And I'm gonna take a mighty big piece."

He reared his hand back before thrusting it forward through Deadpool's chest. The merc coughed up some blood from behind his mask. Pain raced throughout his entire body. Being impaled was never fun, but it was usually done with a sword, or a knife, a blade of some kind.

When it was something wider, with the ability to hook, like a hand? That was just a whole new level of pain. Tom leaned into his ear and whispered, "Don't worry, Wade. I'll tell the good doctor ye said hello."

Deadpool's eyes widened. The good doctor? It couldn't be. Could it?

Tom ripped his arm out, now covered in blood, ready to go fishing for something vital again, when a loud, screeching noise filled the air. It really started to hurt Deadpool's ears, but whatever it was must have been focused on Tom, because was slammed to the side and through the wall. Some rubble fell on him, covering his form from view.

Deadpool slunk to the ground, holding in his internal organs. "Stay in there," he whispered. "Daddy needs you."

He heard something land in front of him. Looking up, he saw… a woman? A beautiful woman, with long, red hair, a pair of nice-looking dress pants, and an incredibly sexy leather jacket. The hair was what drew his attention. It looked absolutely stunning on her. It accentuated her face really well.

He thought he could hear her speaking to him, but hearing was starting to leave him, and consciousness was slipping from his grasp. He could hear himself say something as he passed out, but he wasn't sure what.

He's pretty sure it was profound.

"So… pretty…"

The man dressed in a red and black suit fell forward. Siryn looked on at the horrifying display before her. When he had flown above the alley, she saw another guy drive his entire arm through this guy's chest. When she saw that, she summoned up her power, and sent a sonic screech into him.

She'd deal with the attacker later. Right now, she had to check on the victim. She jogged over and dropped to one knee. It wasn't the first impalement that she'd have to deal with, but she only had a roll of bandages on her. No disinfectant, no stitches, nothing else.

Siryn rolled him over to look at the damages and couldn't help but be amazed. The wound, however slowly, was healing. It was closing. Had she stumbled upon the mutant already? Granted, he was apparently causing trouble before, and now had been no different. Figuring the mutant would be alright for a minute, she made her way over to the hole in the wall.

The other man had a strange growth all over him, that looked almost like wood. He had to have impressive strength to be able to impale a man with just his arm. But when she looked inside the building, he was completely gone. She cursed the air. Mutant or no, he was dangerous and needed to be stopped. But then Scott's words circled through her head. She had a mission, she remembered.

She looked back at the man in the costume lying in a heap. Even with a healing factor, she should tend to him. She gripped the bandages tighter before putting them away and crouching down next to him. He looked heavy, but nothing she couldn't handle. She needed to find someplace to let him rest. Wolverine was typically out for a while after a pretty intense fight, and if this guy was like him, she doubted he'd like waking up in garbage.

Grabbing him under the arms, Siryn took off into the sky.

Are we dead?

Of course, we're not. We can't die.

Does Thanos have that curse on us still? Or is that not a thing anymore?

I don't even know if it's in continuity with us.

Man, this whole fanfic business is a confusing mess.

You're telling me. Who else would remember a no-name like Black Tom?

Fox would.

Well, to be fair, they were reaching for some pretty deep pulls at the time.

What, like Hugh Jones?

Exactly.

So, if we're not dead, what happened?

Not sure. I'm pretty sure we should've woken up by now.

Yeah, a stabbing like that shouldn't be keeping us down for this long!

What did Tom do to us?

Wade! You need to wake up!

Please wake up!

Behind her, the mutant mumbled something. Siryn raised an eyebrow. She couldn't make out what he was saying. She was pretty sure she heard something about "not going back"?

He was a strange character. She couldn't find anything about him when looking him up on their database, and Scott still wasn't answering her call. There must be some real trouble in Genosha right about now.

The mutant had almost completely healed by the time they got back, but she still wrapped him in the bandages to be safe. There was a massive amount of scar tissue though, and hopefully that'll heal in time. If the wound was big enough, Wolverine would have a small scar to remember it by.

She had taken them to an abandoned building on the outskirts of Alphabet City. It had been an old apartment complex, but now it was run down and dilapidated. It was the best place she could think of, since there wasn't anywhere for the X-Men to hold up in New York anymore. They typically had to rent hotels, but she was short on cash, so that was a no go.

Whoever had last lived here left a so-so mattress, a desk, and a chair. It was better than nothing. She was currently in the chair, tapping her fingers against the table. It had been about an hour since they arrived, and the mumbling was the only activity from the man besides a steady breathing.

The bandages had bled through, she noted. Siryn grabbed the rest of the roll and walked over. As she was reach over, though, a hand snapped over her forearm and pulled her close.

Before she could react, a gun was pressed under her chin as the man said, "Who are you, where am I, and how did I get here?"

"Wha-?"

"Answer the fucking question," the man said as he pulled the hammer of his gun back. "Don't make me ask twice. I don't like asking twice."

Siryn took a deep breath. It wasn't the greeting she was expecting, but she would just have to roll with it. He'd pull the trigger before she could let out a scream. She couldn't let that happen. "My name is Siryn," she began, as calmly as she could considering the circumstances. "I brought you to an apartment in Alphabet City. I also bandaged you up after you were impaled."

"The other guy," the man asked, "did you see where he went?"

Siryn shook her head. "Nae. I blasted him into a wall, then brought you here."

For a moment, he just looked her over. As if making a decision.

"If it helps, I didn't take off the mask," Siryn added with a shrug. "I know how people in masks feel about that."

Finally, he put the gun away and let her arm go. Siryn let out a deep breath, and grabbed her wrist. "Sorry, beautiful," the man said. "I don't trust easy, and waking up in a rundown apartment, no matter how pretty the owner is, doesn't fill me with a lot of trust."

"I understand," she replied, getting to her feet. "Couldn't done without the gun, but I'll let it slide."

"Again, my sincerest apologies," he replied, standing up and taking a deep bow. "Thanks for the assist by the way, but I had that handled."

Just as Siryn replied, the man said, "Yes, I did."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, nothing. Anyway, Siryn. That's a nice name. What's your superpower? Luring sailors into the sea?" He chuckled as he walked past her into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I never got your name," she loudly stated, already growing a bit tired of the man.

He stopped in his tracks and spun around, holding out a card in his hand. She took it hesitantly. "Pool. Dead," Deadpool said. "Pleased to meet you, Siryn."

Siryn gave the business card a once over before placing it in a pocket. "Deadpool, I've been sent by—"

"Hey, want a beer?" he called out at the fridge, pulling out a couple bottles, offering her one.

"No, I don't wa—How did you know there would be drinks in there?"

Deadpool shrugged. "So," he said, pulling off the bottle cap. He raised it to his lips but then lowered it. "You said something about being sent?"

"Yes, I was sent by Scott Summers of the X-Men to find you and bring you to Genosha. You've been causing trouble and we're offering either asylum or an escort to the authorities." She was growing very tired.

"Summers, huh?" He shook his head. "Quick question; did he refer to me as a mutant?"

"Of course."

"Got the wrong guy then."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Ol' one eye and the gang don't see me as a genuine mutant," he explained.

"Why wouldn't they-?" She was interrupted once again by her communicator going off. Could she go five minutes without being interrupted. She pulled it out and spoke into it. "Siryn here."

"Siryn, sorry for missing your calls. What's the update?"

Scott.

"Yea, I've got a guy here that I'm pretty sure is the mutant you were talking about, but he says he isn't?" Siryn explained.

She could hear the confusion behind the line. "I'm going to need you to explain that a bit more."

"He says he isn't a real mutant."

"…What's his name?"

The suspicion in his voice made Siryn raise her eyebrow. "Deadpool."

There was a long silence.

"Oh, dear God, not him."