Banner's lab was located in Stark Towers. It was bright and spacious, with a wall of floor to ceiling windows with a beautiful view of the city. Everything was made of very tough stuff. Thick glass, heavy tables, and steel doors that slid down to trap him in, in the event the "other guy"-as the shy scientist referred to the Hulk-made an appearance. Every available surface was covered with test tubes and elaborate lab equipment. The shelves were filled with containers of various chemicals and solutions in a variety of bright colors. It was well lit, both with over head and natural light. Not confining.

No matter what, Wade hated it. He'd met the Hulk on several occasions, but the merc couldn't remember if he'd ever met the little nerdy guy before. The Hulk was all power and smash, which was something he understood completely. But the scientist that composed the monster made Wade far more nervous.

Dean was fairly relaxed, and did his best to project confidence to try to allay Wade's fears. The hunter was never much of a fan of doctors and hospitals either, but he didn't think that Bruce was going to do anything that would be considered inappropriate. It was very clear, however, that Wade was going to take his bodyguard duties very seriously.

"Just take a seat on the table over there," Banner said as he went to a sealed cabinet. Dean did as was asked, Wade staying dutifully at his side as Bruce retrieved several syringes and containers, along with a stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, oxygen detector, and thermometer.

Dean rolled up his sleeve, revealing the Mark. Bruce cocked an eyebrow, eyes fixed on the raised scar. "That is a very peculiar looking brand."

"It's called the Mark of Cain," Dean said as Bruce wrapped his arm in the blood pressure cuff. "It is how I became a demon."

He pumped up the cuff to the point Dean's arm felt like it was going to pinch off, and Bruce hummed as he stared at the readings. "Blood pressure's pretty high. Did you have an issue with that before becoming a demon?"

"Not that I know of," Dean said honestly. "They don't exactly require regular physicals to be a hunter."

"Temperature is a little high, too," Bruce said after running the thermometer across his head and slipped the oxygen detector onto Dean's finger. He frowned. "Your oxygen levels are very low. Your heart rate is incredibly high. If you were just human, I would demand you be admitted to the hospital."

"Gotta start taking better care of you," Wade said, giving Dean a nudge.

Dean frowned, remembering the things Chuck had said about Sam when he was fighting Lillith. The prophet had described it as going full-Vader.

"Most of the mutants are suffering from some type of heart or blood disorder, post-possession," Bruce said as he scrubbed an alcohol pad over the crux of Dean's arm. "I'm starting to wonder if this is some sort of 'sentient pathogen'."

Wade tensed as the needle slipped into Dean's arm, his hand twitching towards his handgun. Dean gave the merc a half smile as blood started to fill the first of several vials.

"Very dark," Bruce said, studying the blood. "How's your appetite? Do you eat much?"

Dean shrugged his unoccupied shoulder, and said, "I eat usually once a day. Sam and Wade make me drink something."

Bruce nodded, glancing up at Wade with a half smile. He was on his fourth vial. "Most of the mutants the medical team has dealt with claimed that their bodies were operated mostly without food or water during their possession."

"This body is my body. And I do my best to maintain it." Dean sighed, watching his blood flow into the vial. "The idea of having to possess someone else is kinda skeevy."

"That is actually very comforting," Bruce said with a nervous laugh. "Are there other demons like you? I guess I mean, are there other good guys?"

Dean thought about Meg. Sam told him about her sentimental thoughts of Castiel, how the angel was her "unicorn". Had Crowley not killed her, he imagined she probably would have found a way to stay good. Or at least, as good as she could get. "There may be a few, but how many, I can't tell you. Before the Mark, there were several times I had to work with them. It usually ended with stabbing."

Bruce pulled the needle from Dean's arm, and pressed a piece of gauze over the bubble of blood. "Perhaps it has something to do with the person prior to possession?"

Dean shook his head. "No. It has everything to do with the entity possessing." Dean took a deep breath. "In Hell, souls are tortured until there is no humanity left, and whatever humanity there is, fills them with so much hate that they just want to hurt other humans." He swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice as he said, "I know from experience that what comes back from Hell isn't… it's not… they…"

Wade squeezed his shoulder, leaning into him slightly. He was never good at comforting people, at least not regular people. But torture, torment, mind-robbing insanity, that was something he understood. Something with which he could sympathize.

"They'll do anything to get out of Hell," Dean finally said, feeling a different kind of warmth sweep through him. "Even if it means they have to do some really sadistic shit to do it."

"And what about you?" Bruce asked gently.

Dean forced a humorless smile, and said, "Cain didn't give me the Mark because I wasn't a killer."

Bruce just nodded, and carried his samples over to one of the lab stations, where he started a file for Dean. While Bruce was occupied, Dean looked up at Wade, and said, "That wasn't so bad."

"Yeah. I guess," Wade said solemnly. "I think we need to get out of here, before the doctor decides to do some kind of mad scientist mojo on you."

"I'm not going to experiment on Mr. Winchester," Bruce said with a hint of annoyance. "My only interest is helping people, and as I recall, I have helped you a time or two as well, Wade."

"Not willingly," Wade grumbled. "You smashed me. A lot."

Bruce looked at him over his glasses, and said, "You didn't ask nicely."

"Touche," Wade said with a shrug.

"What else do you have planned?" Dean asked as he stood. "You said some scans and whatever, right?"

"Yes, but I need to do the blood work first so I can calibrate the machines." Bruce took off his gloves, and said, "If you want to come back in a couple hours, we can continue then?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good. I'll, uh…"

"Breakfast?" Wade said, a hopeful note in his voice. "There's an awesome mexican food cart near here. Great breakfast burritos. And sauce. Seriously, best…"

Dean put a hand on Wade's arm to stop the forthcoming ramble, and said, "Breakfast sounds awesome."

Once the laboratory door closed, both Dean and Wade breathed an audible sigh of relief. Dean was shaking because he didn't like to talk about Hell. He didn't plan on Banner asking so many questions. And Wade… Wade just hated being in that environment.

They stayed in contact as they walked, their shoulders touching, hands brushing against each other. By the time they made the long trek to the elevators, both were much more relaxed. Relaxed enough that Wade pulled Dean into the men's room.

Dean pulled Wade's mask off, taking his mouth with lips, tongue, and teeth. Wade crushed Dean against his body, enveloping in his massive arms. All the nightmares vanished away in a haze of hormones and roaming hands.

And it all came to an abrupt halt with the clearing of a throat.

Wade and Dean turned to see Hawkeye standing by the opened door of one of the stalls, eyebrow raised. Deadpool quickly pulled his mask on. Dean's face was burning.

Hawkeye just walked to the sink and washed his hands, then walked out of the restroom, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry," Wade blurted, sadly. "I should know better. This… This shouldn't be happening."

Dean's brow furrowed. "What shouldn't be happening?"

"You and me." He sighed heavily. "They'll never take you seriously, and it's my fault."

"Wade, I…"

"No." Wade cut him off. "This was a bad idea."

"What was a bad idea?" Dean asked. "You can't be serious, man. Like I give a fuck what any of these douche bags think. The only ones who aren't looking down their noses at us is Logan and Natasha. Fuck Hawkeye. Fuck Tony Stark. Fuck the goddamn Avengers!"

Wade cocked his head to the side. "You mean that?"

"Look, Wade," Dean said, resting his hands on the merc's shoulders, staring into the white eyes of the mask. "You are my friend, and whatever it is that's going on between us… It's a new thing for me, okay? But I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you. And if someone has a problem with what we do together, then that's their fucking problem. Not ours."

"I just don't want anything about me hurting you," Wade said in earnest. "I don't have many friends because bad things tend to happen to people around me. And sometimes, I AM the bad thing that happens." He frowned under the mask. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

Dean sighed. He'd heard this speech before, only he was the one giving it. He took a deep breath, trying to formulate what he was about to say. He didn't want to get it wrong, because getting it wrong would mean Wade might not be in his life any more, and that thought was pretty scary.

"Wade…" He started, then took a deep breath and again lifted the mask from the merc's face, looking into his big brown eyes that were so uncertain, so sad. "I can't promise that nothing will ever happen to me. But I do know that when bad things happen, there's no one else I'd rather have fighting by my side."

For a moment, Wade just stared into Dean's eyes. Then a smile bloomed across his scarred lips, and he said, "Damn, Chester. You really know how to sweet talk a guy."

"Shut up, Wade," Dean said with a laugh in his voice, as he pulled the merc into another kiss.

Wade melted into it, all of his anxieties flying out the window. He relished the way they felt together, and hoped that this feeling would last for a very long time.

They left the restroom a couple minutes later. Dean's skin was flushed and lips swollen, and he didn't give a damn about the looks he got from people he passed. Did not matter. Fuck them. He was the Knight of Hell, and if he chose to spend a few minutes making out with the Merc with a Mouth like a teenager, then that's what he was going to do.

Castiel and Sam were standing by the elevator, and after a couple minutes of waiting, the four of them started the descent to go get some breakfast. It was a good day for the Winchesters, Dean decided. Their work was being taken seriously. Sam was being valued for his giant brain. Castiel was getting the chance to help people again. Wade was relaxed at his side. Dean was happy.

No sooner had the thought passed through his mind, Dean felt a strange sensation. It was like static electricity that crackled under his skin, followed by an almost weightless feeling. Then suddenly, he was being pulled away out of the lift. Out of reality and into a void that seemed to go on and on forever...