Wade had found clothes, had stolen them really. He had gotten a hoody and pulled the hood on immediately. But that didn't stop people from looking, from shying away from the strange man in a black hoody and jeans with a horrifyingly ugly body.

He found Vanessa first, wanting to see the woman he had loved…did he still love her? The time at the facility had changed him, that was undeniable. He had loved Vanessa, loved the way she was so similar to him – her spontaneity, her humor, it was all mixed with him. But during his time at the facility, Wade had found his thoughts constantly pulled to a different woman, the woman he tracked down next.

Amy.

He couldn't help but think about the times before he left, when Amy would just be there. Vanessa had always talked, had always done everything she could to distract him about his cancer. There was always something they had to be doing or talking about.

The memories that had carried him through was Amy just sitting there, reading a book or smiling at him. They had watched a couple of movies when he hadn't been feeling the best. She would come and just ask him in that sweet voice of hers, "What do you want to do tonight?"

He had watched Vanessa walk into her apartment and, squaring his shoulders, turned away. Vanessa deserved someone with the spontaneity and humor that matched. He didn't have that, at least not until he recovered a bit.

Leaving Vanessa behind, he had headed to Sister Magaret's, knowing that Amy would be there in a floral dress and a smile.

Weasel had been there, actually. He had opened the door and stared at Wade and then said, "Fuck."

"Yep." Wade nodded. He pushed past Weasel and walked into the familiar bar, taking a deep breath and smiling. Weasel followed behind him.

"You need to leave," Weasel said, making Wade turn with a frown.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because if you stay, then I'm obligated to punch you in the face."

Wade raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you want to put your fist anywhere near my face. Or the rest of my body."

Weasel huffed and shook his head. "I don't want to do it either! But poor Amy –" he cut himself off. "She really missed you," he said after an awkward pause. "James broke up with her the night you left because she was spending so much time with you. And then she got a call from Vanessa saying you had left."

Wade looked down. "I wasn't expecting to come back," he admitted in all seriousness. The facility had been a long shot, and he figured they wouldn't be able to cure him and just send him to die.

That hadn't happened. At all.

Weasel sighed. "Come on and sit down. You sound like you need a drink."

The two sat down, sharing a beer. It felt familiar. Even before Amy had arrived at the bar, Wade had often stopped by early to sit and drink with Weasel. Just relaxing.

Without really meaning to, he ended up telling Weasel about the facility, the experiments, and then, with a frown, his feelings about Amy and Vanessa. He admitted, though he would kill Weasel if he ever told anyone, that he was terrified of their reactions.

"No way. I'm not making her life as ugly as mine, man," he protested. He paused for a moment, noting that he really didn't knew which women he was more upset about.

"Oh, come on, Wade. It can't be that bad," Weasel protested.

"Ah, bullshit! I'm a monster inside and out. I belong in a fucking circus!"

"Wade, Vanessa loves you –"

But Wade cut him off. "What about Amy, she doesn't love me. She probably hates me guts!"

"About that," Weasel winced and swallowed down his drink. "Amy…well, Wade…Amy…"

"Will hate me even more," Wade finished. He shook his head. "Weasel, you and I both know that Amy's gorgeous in a very innocent way. She deserves someone who looks just as amazing as she does."

"She doesn't care what you – Oh. Oh." Weasel's mouth fell open as Wade's hood came off to reveal his new skin.

"Do you like what you see?" Wade asked, the sarcasm dripping from his words.

"No. You look like an avocado had sex with an older, more disgusting avocado."

"Yeah," Wade agreed with a sigh.

"And not gently. Like, it was hate fucking. There was something wrong with the relationship, and that was the only catharsis they could find without violence," Weasel added with a shudder.

"And the only guy who can fix this fugly mug is the brown shitstick from the mutant factory, and he's gone! Poof."

"Yeah, you've got to do something to remedy this, cause as of now you only have on course of action."

"Damn straight. Find Francis –" Wade started to say at the exact time Weasel bluntly proposed: "Star in horror films."

"What?" Wade spluttered out.

"Star in your own horror films. Cause you look like Freddy Krueger face fucked a topographical map of Utah," Weasel explained with a motion to Wade's face and then a shudder.

Wade winced, the metaphor hurting. "Here's what I'm actually going to do. I'm going to work through his crew until somebody gives up Francis, force him to fix this, put a bullet in his skull, and fuck the brain hole."

Weasel looked ill by the time Wade was done describing his plan. "I don't want to see that or think of it again. But the douchebag does think you're dead, right?"

"Yeah," Wade agreed with a frown. At the very least he had been left for dead.

"That's good. You should keep it that way," Weasel recommend.

And then a familiar female voice, which was usually a voice that was filled with a smile that on her face, called to the two men: "And what about me, Wade Wilson?"

Wade looked up and for a moment, all he saw was red. Amy's red hair in the sun shining brighter than any image of her he had conjured with his mind. He looked at her, taking in the blue dress she was wearing. Somehow, and for some reason, he stood up.

"Amy," he said, his voice thick.

Amy took a step forwards, and then another. Wade could see tears glistening in her eyes. "Does Vanessa know? She'll be so happy to see you back."

"Are you happy?" Wade asked, choosing to not answer Amy's question.

Amy smoothed out an imagined crease in her dress. She looked down at the ground and took a several long, deep breaths. "You left," she pointed out in a soft voice. "You left Vanessa. You left me." She looked up, almost surprised to find that Wade wasn't saying something sarcastic. "Don't do that ever again."

Wade nodded vigorously. "Never," he agreed.

Amy took another step forwards, now acutely aware of how close she was to Wade. She heard Weasel make some sort of coughing noise, but it was distant. "Does Vanessa know?" She repeated.

"No," Wade admitted.

Amy made to take a step back, but Wade caught her arm. She didn't protest as Wade pulled her forwards and instead welcomed it as she gave him a tight hug. She could feel her tears, which she had been trying to fight before, falling down as she buried her face into Wade's chest.

An action that made Wade feel something warm – something he hadn't felt with Vanessa. This…this was something he would hold onto.

Amy pulled back, wiping her tears away to look up at him. "You need to tell Vanessa," she stated.

"I can't go near her!" Wade protested. He took a step back and motioned to his face. "I'm fucking disgusting!"

Amy frowned. "Don't say that, Wade," she reprimanded. "Vanessa loves you. She won't care how you look."

Wade just frowned. "I'm danger to her. If Francis finds me she could die. I need to lay low while I hunt him down."

"Who's Francis?" Amy asked, looking over at Weasel. She only got a wave of a hand and a mouthed 'later' in response.

Wade swiveled on his foot and pointed at Weasel. "You were saying something earlier. Something not stupid."

Weasel blinked. "I was going to recommend wearing a mask. A very thick mask, all the time. I am sorry, you are...haunting. Your face is the stuff of nightmares."

Amy sent Weasel a glare. "No it isn't," she protested. "Wade looks fine."

Wade just shook his head, disagree with Amy. "I'm like a testicle with teeth."

"You will die alone. If, I mean, if you could die. Ideally. For others' sake."

"That'll do," Wade cut in before Weasel could say anything else. Later he would say that this shut-down was purely out of self-interest and that it had nothing to do with the disappointed look Amy was giving him – them. He meant them.

Weasel nodded. "All you need now is a suit and a nickname, like Wade the Wisecracker, or Scaredevil, Mr. Neverdie...Oh shit." He trailed off with a sigh.

"What?" Wade asked.

"I put all my money on you, and I just realized I'm never going to win the –"

"Deadpool," Wade said, effectively cutting Weasel off. "Captain Deadpool. No, just Deadpool. Yeah."

"Yeah. To you, Mr. Pool. That sounds like a fucking franchise." The two clinked glasses.

And then Amy asked in a soft voice, "You won't be killing people, right?"

Wade winced. He had forgotten how disapproving Amy was of death. The effort it had taken her to join the deadpool at the beginning of the fanfiction – what the hell made him think that?

"I'll explain later," Weasel promised.

Once Weasel had explained everything Wade had told him to Amy, she still wasn't a fan of the plan Wade had, even if she agreed the people that had tortured him deserved, at the very least, quite a bit of harm.

She had said originally that she did not want to support Wade, but then Wade himself had asked her to make his costume, to help him. He hadn't gone through Weasel; he had done it himself. Had said he would be grateful, and he had met every word of it. No sarcasm, no cursing, except to describe the outfit as 'fucking awesome and that 'this shit's gonna have nuts in it.'

She had made a white hoody, complete with a way to pull up a mask to cover his face should he like. He had gone out that night and had come back bloodied.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Amy's cry had been the first thing that greeted Wade when he had come into the apartment he had gotten for himself. It was far enough away from Sister Magaret's and therefore Amy, Weasel, and Vanessa that if anyone tracked him down, they wouldn't go to the pers – people he cared about.

That didn't stop Amy from going to his apartment though. He honestly should have expected the cry as he greeting when he got back.

"It's all healed up," he reassured her.

Amy got to her feet and eyed the white hoody she had made. "I can try and wash it, but I don't think it's salvageable."

Wade quickly shook his head. "I'll do it. People will see the outfit and figure it out."

In the laundromat the next day, Wade was regretting his choice to clean the clothes. He was trying to get the blood out and, as he struggled with it more and more, he started to grumble about the hassle.

"Seltzer water and lemon for blood. Or wear red. Dumbass," an older, blind black woman snapped at him suddenly.

Following the woman's advice, Wade handed Amy some new cloth, red this time, and begged her to remake the outfit. After giving her his best puppy-dog eyes, she relented and started to work on it.

Once again, the outfit was a hoody that had the option to cover his face, but Amy had added a couple of extra pockets.

"If you have to go somewhere public," she started, "then I wanted to make sure that you could get in without hassle."

Wade had loved the outfit and had worn the mask at all times. His first trip out with it on had led to him ending up a boxing match, which he interrupted by grabbing his target and attacking the man. "Don't make me ask twice. Where's Francis?"

The man made him ask twice.

When he got home and crossed off the man's picture with a knife, a late Christmas gift from Amy, he frowned and pulled off the mask portion. "He made me ask twice. Is it the mask?"

For the next outfit, Amy and Wade had ended up going shopping at a higher-end fabric store. Amy had found a good fabric, though it was a bit thick, in red and black. They bought it and Amy got to work.

When she was done, Wade was more than a little impressed. She had made him an actual super suit, complete with padded feet. It was mainly red but with black accents. It also came with a separate hood that was a bit oddly shaped and let people see his eyes.

"It's not perfect-" Amy had started, but was quickly cut off by Wade grabbing her into a tight hug. She yelped and stiffened briefly in shock, but she quickly smiled and closed her eyes. "I'm glad you're so enthusiastic about it."

The outfit ended up not working as planned, getting too hot when Wade moved for long periods of time. So they bought a thinner fabric, one that breathed better, and once again Amy got to work. It took longer to make it, long enough that Wade went out a couple of times while she was working on it.

But it was all worth it when Wade tried on the outfit. This was the one; it was perfect.

Wade's reaction was to scope Amy into a hug and to give her a small kiss on her cheek. She had blushed red and had ducked her head.

"This is perfect, Amy," Wade said in a sincere voice. "Thank you."

That night, Wade came back victorious, with information from the man that had recruited him that would lead him to Francis. He opened the door and switched on the light in the living room. He looked over and saw Amy curled up on the couch, clearly fast asleep. Walking over, he grabbed a blanket and placed it over her, covering her up. He smiled down at her fondly.

"Thank you so much, Amy," he whispered to her.

He really, really was grateful for everything she had done for him. Not only had she helped him in the facility, though she didn't know that, but she had helped him outside of it as well – even if she didn't fully agree or approve of his plan.

Once again, he found himself thinking about how different Vanessa and Amy were, which led to him feeling an uncomfortable amount of guilt. He hadn't broken up with Vanessa, hadn't even contacted her. At first it was because he was scared of her reaction to him, but now it was for a different reason. He had stopped seeing Amy as a younger sister a while back and, the more he was around her, the more he wanted to reach out and kiss her. If he broke up with Vanessa, there would be no stopping him and that made him scared. What if Amy didn't like him the same way? What if he hurt her – he would never forgive himself.

What if she was disgusted by him? He knew she claimed that his face didn't bother him, but would she still feel that way when actives like kissing and fucking were in play?

A small noise from Amy pulled him out of his thoughts. She had shifted on the couch, pulled the blanket around her. He smiled and sat down next to her on the couch, only then realizing how tired he was and how relaxing the couch was.

Within minutes, there were two sleeping forms on the couch.

"There. All caught up."

I know this chapter jumped around a lot, but I wanted to try and focus more on Amy and Wade and less on the violence. I really, really like writing them together, mainly because Amy is such an easy character to write for me and it just makes everything easier in the chapter.

I hope Wade's thoughts made sense at the end. He honestly does want Amy, but he's also scared of how Amy will react to him in that fashion - which we all know would be very positive reaction. I feel like a lot of Wade's focus post-powers is how he looks and I wanted to show that Amy really doesn't care about his looks by having the mask as an option. I feel like Vanessa's reaction, while understandable, is still kind of negative to it.

I hope you guys like this chapter. I'm pretty happy with it.