As soon as Wade and Nico stepped out of the shadows in the older man's room, Wade found himself webbed against the wall and a very angry looking Peter standing before him, arms crossed and lips pursued.
"Where were you? I was worried sick!" Wade was in deep, deep shit.
{We are in soooo much trouble.}
[Spidey's gonna kill us. And once we come back, he will kill us again.]
"Yeah, you should see the other guys. There was this damsel in distress and I couldn't ignore a plea for help and then–"
"Wade!" Peter barked.
"I went to a place from my old line of work, baby boy," Wade said, defeated. He averted his eyes and looked at the ceiling. "I needed to confirm one thing and I asked Nico to take me there. And I told him not to say a word until I could find a better way to tell you this, but the cat's out of the bag now, so fuck it." Wade made a short pause before continuing. "I've been in this world before... Way before I met you." Wade sighed and shifted his gaze toward the teenager shuffling awkwardly in a corner of the room, looking extremely uncomfortable. "Hey, kid, give Petey the package, please."
Nico frowned. "I told you. Don't call me 'kid'." He still knelled down and took the bundle of brown envelopes out of the bag and walked over the trio.
"Thank you, Nico." Peter took the three of them and smiled. "Go before someone finds you."
"Good thing I'm the best at hiding." Nico smirked and disappeared once more in the shadows.
"What are these, Wade?" Peter asked , looking at the envelopes. Peter took one of them and opened it. Inside were a bunch of papers with different sizes and thickness. He picked one randomly and took it out but he paled when he recognized what it was. "What… THIS is what 'manage things' meant? You forged documents?" He was incredulous, livid as he ran through all the documents. Wade gulped and tried to break the webs holding his arms. "Do you have any ide– Of course you have, there are three for each and–"
"Breathe, Petey… I need my Id to access fully to my account. I left some money here, y'know? In case I needed to come back someday. And we did, kinda. We are stuck here until further notice and neither of us have any papers on us and–" Wade shrugged his shoulders the best he could, given his limited mobility "–… I don't know… That night I didn't thought they would let us stay; much less be offered a job. I was planning to get us a place to live until we could go back. With a great bed and a nice couch for me. I was trying to help," he sighed and dropped his head.
They remained silent for a while, trying to process what Wade had just said.
"You will have to explain everything to Chiron in the morning." Peter was the first one to break the uncomfortable silence. "And it'd better be the biggest bed on the store." He scoffed. "Don't get me wrong, I'm mad at you, Wade and you will be sleeping in the couch for the next four months, both here and in our universe. Besides, there's nothing we can do about this now, can we? It's been a long day for everybody. Let's sleep and–" Peter yawned. "– we'll look at the papers in the morning."
Peter unwebbed his very imprudent -considered, yes, but extremely imprudent- boyfriend from the wall and went to sleep. It was a restless sleep for all of them.
The next morning, they were woken up by Chiron, who called them for breakfast and told them to meet him and the counsellors right afterwards at the Big House. At the dinning pavilion, the duo followed the campers example and left a piece of their food to throw it to the fire, each of them offering it to a different god.
"There's something I would like to show all you," Chiron announced as he entered the room, a remote in hand and turned the TV on and switched to a news channel. His tone was serious. "It's been on every channel for the last couple of hours."
"…still no information about the masked man who saved this woman last night other than his name, nor about the teenager that accompanied him," the reporter was saying, describing the events in front of a familiar looking alley. Both Wade and Nico paled. "The attackers, with a long criminal record for harassment and sexual assault, were taken to the nearest hospital accompanied by police officers. The four men are missing both of their hands and presenting deep stab wounds, though none of them were lethal. The victim stated that the man, who called himself Deadpool, used a pair of katanas. Any information about this masked vigilante, please call-" Chiron turned the TV off, and turned to look at them with a serious look on his face. The rest of the counsellors talked in hushed voices. Wade avoided the centaur's gaze, and looked down as he felt Peter's eyes on him.
Jason was frowning deeply. "What were you doing there?"
"It's not my place to talk about it," Nico replied, hunching his shoulders as he fixed his gaze on Wade. All eyes followed him and waited. The older man shrugged and shifted uncomfortably on his seat before he turned to Chiron, who was looking at him with interest, and to the counsellors, who looked at him expectantly.
"I think it's high time you tell us who you really are, Wade" Chiron's stern voice echoed in the silent room. "It's been a month and you are still the only one who wouldn't talk about his job back where you two come from. You possess very unique abilities unlike anything any of us have seen in our lives and your knowledge in weaponry vastly surpass that of any children of Ares, which says a lot."
Wade sighed and, when he talked, his voice was almost a whisper. "You may not like the answer. It's not a really nice story... If you don't want to hear this, now's the time to get out of here." When nobody moved a muscle, Wade sighed. "Before I start, I need you to promise that what I'm about to tell you will not leave these walls. You want answers, I need you to keep it a secret, at least for now. Do we have a deal?" He looked each of the demigods on the eye until he reached to the centaur. For a few moments, nobody said a word. Then Nico raised his head and spoke:
"I swear it on the Styx." His voice was serious. After him, each of the counsellors swore on the same river, albeit some of them rather reluctantly.
"I swear it on the Styx. For the Greek, there's nothing more binding that a promise on the river Styx." This was a talk he was not ready to have yet. He tried to swallow the lump on his throat.
"Back home I was the world's most skilled mercenary." Everybody tensed at the last word, their eyes turning cautious. "Like I said, I've been in this universe before. Fifteen years ago, I think, when I was just starting my life as Deadpool. I came for a job and stayed for a couple of months before going back. Made a name of myself in the underground circles." He laughed humourlessly. "Last month, after our little trip to Queens, Nico took me to the place I used to take jobs at and we ran into an old friend of mine, sweet old lady called Alessia Serrano. One of the most powerful people in the crime circles... You don't want to cross her."
"Alessia? The one who... chopped your head off?" Peter asked cautiously. Wade nodded.
"Questions at the end of the tour, baby boy, but yes. The same one. The thing is, before I left the first time, I put some of my money on a secret account, in case I needed to come back here someday. I was sloppy and she found out bout the money and had me 'killed', but she never found the account. And since we came here without any ID, and because she's the best at forging documents, I went to her in order to obtain new identities for the two of us and get some of the money back so we can rent a place until my teleporter is repaired and bring us back to our New York. That was, until you guys came and offered us a place to stay and a job, which neither of us can thank you enough –besides, neither of you puked when you saw my face, which I really appreciate–. And last night, after we got those documents and left the building, we heard the scream and the news were pretty much self-explanatory." No sooner had Wade finished talking that everybody started bombarding him with tons of questions at the same time, overlapping each other until Chiron raised his hands and calmed them down enough to convince the demigods to ask their questions one by one.
"Is that why you got shot last month?" Leo asked first and shrugged his shoulders. "We all saw the t-shirt."
"Yeah. Sorry about the tee, guys. They were aiming both of us. I made sure the kid didn't get hurt. Whatever they put on the food here helped boosting my healing factor so I was back up in less than three minutes, no biggie."
"Did he just said that you got your head cut off?" Will asked incredulously.
"Fortunately before burying me, the idiots threw the head close enough to my body so I didn't need to grow a new one. One could think you get used to being decapitated with time. Wrong. It still hurts like hell and it messes with your mental stability. I remember this time..."
"Why aren't you dead then?" Percy asked, confused.
"Because I always come back. Can't stay dead very long, but that's a story for maybe another day. Any question that does not involve my deaths, my healing factor nor how I got the 'Ryan Reynold mauled by a sharpei' look?"
"If you were a mercenary, why didn't you kill those pieces of garbage? What's your body count and how much did you make?" Clarisse asked. "What? I'm curious. And so are all of you." she defended herself when the other demigods looked at her scornfully.
"Spidey–" Wade pointed at the brunet– "didn't like it when I killed so I stopped doing it. Now I'm a weapon consultant and do the occasional rescue mission but I haven't taken any hardcore mercenary job in almost two years. And about questions two and three; it's high enough to match the population of a small country." He laced his hands behind his head and reclined a little bit more on his chair. The demigods shivered, some even cursed under their breaths. "I was the best, so they paid whatever the hell I told them to. A hundred grand was, like, the least I charged but it always depended on the job. Sometimes they paid millions to have me unalive someone, other times they were shady rescue missions or some government's dirty work. In the time I stay here I made one or two billion bucks." The campers were gaping. "I had limits, though. I never hurt children nor did I take jobs involving children or pregnant women." He frowned a little bit.
"So, you are like a billionaire?"
"More like a gazillionaire, if we take into account all the money I've made in every universe I've taken jobs at. I could probably buy the entire planet, if I felt like it," he commented lightly, picking the dirt under his nails.
"Why a mercenary, though?" Asked Annabeth, bringing the conversation back to the serious mood. "I assume you knew about his… line of work? And you were okay with that?
"Back home everyone knows about Deadpool and his… abilities. No, I was not okay with him being a mercenary. Killing is never the answer. Much less if he got money out of it. It took me a long time and work for him to realise that it was wrong and for him to decide to leave that life on his own." Peter smiled gently and placed a hand on Wade's shoulder. "I know it wasn't an easy choice, but he has come a long way since then."
"You didn't answer my question, Wade. Why a mercenary?" She repeated dryly.
"I heard you the first time, I'm just ignoring it. Origin stories are sooooooo boring!" Wade whined, but one look from everyone sobered him up a little. "Look, bub… Man, I sound like Logan. Gross. Anyway. Origin story, yes. No. Just like my face, it's not pretty and it's better off hidden away where people can't scream because of it. Or puke. Or cry, okay?" Wade's breathing hitched and became slightly shallow. "But then again, I showed you my face and neither of you did what people normally do so I could give it a chance?" In that moment, the voices decided to give their, once again, unwanted opinion, very harshly. He whined at the snarls inside his mind. "… Maybe they will not run away, White, maybe they will be like baby-boy…"
[Do you really think so? He must laugh at you behind your back. He feels relieved when you go away and you don't taint his life with your ugly soul.]
{Spidey hates us, idiot. And the campers will hate us too when we tell them everything. They are disgusted to see the kind of monster they've let inside this place and will be even more disgusted when they learn about what a sick piece of shit we are.}
"I hate it when you two team up, you know that? I used to like you better, Yellow." He got up clumsily and stumbled out of the room.
[You are such a coward. Fleeing when things start to get slightly difficult? No wonder why nobody likes you.]
"I'm not a coward! Stop lying!"
{What are you gonna do? Kill yourself? We all know you are dumb enough to never stay down. And that when you are back, so we will. Besides, you will only make Petey sadder. He will suffer because of you. You can't do anything right, can you, Wade? What do you think everyone will think of you when you blow your brains out in the hallway?]
"I haven't shoot myself in months! I… I don't need to do that anymore… P-Peter…" Wade could feel tears burning their way down his cheeks…
[He is way better off without you. You don't deserve to be his soulmate. You should have let him be happy on his own. If it weren't for you, he wouldn't be trapped in an alternate universe, where he has absolutely no one but your filthy company. It's all your fault!]
"STOP IT. PLEASE!" Wade cried. He hated this. He covered his ears even though he knew it was useless, the voices kept screaming, throwing insult after insult, reminding Wade of every mistake he had made throughout the years and how much better the world could be if he could die and stay like that. He was slowly losing a battle he hadn't fought alone in a very long time. Peter had always been at his side and helped him when the voices got aggressive.
But now he was mad at Wade. Wade was all alone. And when Wade was alone, there was only one course of acting. Wade took out a knife out of his pocket swung it down, aiming for his heart, figuring it would be an almost immediate death.
But the blow never reached, because a pair of hands grabbed his arm firmly.
"Stop, Wade. Look at me." It was Peter. He let go of his arm and placed his hands on Wade's cheeks, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "Whatever they are saying, they are lying, Wade. You are stronger than the voices." Peter pressed his forehead to Wade's as he kept caressing his cheeks and whispering words of encouragement to his boyfriend. I'm here for you." Peter gently took the knife from Wade's hand and set it aside. He kissed the scarred hand and intertwined their fingers. "Please, don't keep your pain to yourself. I love you, Wade. Even though you find it hard to believe sometimes. The universe decided that the two of us complemented each other. Yes, you may get me on my nerves sometimes, and I might press you too hard into staying on path and be the hero I know you can be but, at the end of the day… I wouldn't change this for anything." Peter touched their soul marks, they had each other's names on their chests, right above their hearts, and pressed a small kiss to Wade's temple. "Let's stay here until you are ready to go back, alright?"
Wade took a deep breath and stood up. He helped Peter on his feet and hugged him tightly, thanking and kissingkissing. He smiled shyly and they walked back to the room where the demigods were waiting.
"Sorry about before, guys… White and Yellow were being mean to lil' ol' me." He sat in his chair and scratched the back of his head, laughing humourlessly. "They weren't always here though." He taps the side of his head. "Look, I'm going to do something I never do and it's to be completely honest right now, okay? Only the governments have access to the details and I will tell you what I've only told two other people before." Wade breathed in deep and looked at Peter for support. He was scared. Peter placed a hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. "I won't bore you with the story of lil' Wade Wilson, whose mom died of cancer and became drunk daddy's punching bag. I joined the army as soon as I came of age and stayed for a couple of years until I received momma's last gift in my brain. It kinda went downhill from there." Wade bit his chapped lips and took another deep breath. Peter started rubbing his arm in a soothing manner. "I received a call from Department K, a secret paramilitary research facility whose existence was a secret even for my own government. They said they would get rid of the cancer. They told me they could cure me. Not-at-all-Fun fact: Terminal diseases and the prospect of imminent Death make you whacky on the head and throw every last bit of common sense out of the window… I believed them. And I signed up for the Weapon X Program." Wade started trembling as his pulse quickened. As a gun-for-hire, Deadpool had committed the most horrible and gruesome murders, but none of his jobs could compare, even remotely, to everything Wade Wilson had seen and lived during his time at the Hospice. The flashbacks and nightmares still haunted him in his sleep.
The atmosphere in the room was deadly tense and the temperature dropped several degrees. The demigods listened attentively to Wade's story with a heavy feeling on their stomachs as they watched the shift in the older man's demeanour.
"You can guess what happened after that." Wade continued after a pause that lasted few minutes. "They tortured and experimented on me. They injected me with mutated blood in order to cause a reaction. Something went wrong, because they gave me not only my super healing factor but also they gave me super cancer. They are constantly fighting and that's the reason I look like I do. They also discovered that my healing factor was powerful enough to bring me back from the dead. It didn't matter how many times they shot, stabbed, electrocuted or poisoned me. I always came back after a while. They made me explode once or twice, when they thought I was talking too much." Peter let go of his arm and held his hand, making circles with his thumb, letting Wade know that he was there. He knew how difficult it was for his boyfriend to talk about the Hospice. "Memory's a little bit fuzzy at this point. One can only have his brains blown out so many times before it starts affecting the long term memory. That's where the voices came into the picture, I call them White and Yellow… But what I do remember was the Death Pool, the betting system the doctors had where they bet which of the patients would die first. Whoever bet for me lost a shitton of money. I also remember that there was a fire (which I provoked) and that I escaped; but not before I had killed every single guard, doctor and nurse… the other patients. Some were unconscious when I snapped their necks but the others–" Wade scoffed, his voice was broken. "–the others were thankful. The place burned to the ground and I became a mercenary in order to look for the rest of the bastards that created the program. They killed Wade Wilson but they created Deadpool. Two entities, one deformed body." Wade's voice was low, almost like a growl but almost immediately he gave a cheery laugh and clapped his hands. "And there you have it, Deadpool's origin story. Now, any question?"
"Why kill the patients?" One of the counsellors inquired. She was frowning deeply. "Why not escaping with them?"
"Mercy, sweetheart. In that place, they brought us to the brink of death every single day, for years. Not just physically, but also emotionally. Most of them saw their soulmates die in front of them… Just to cause a reaction." The demigods gasped and Wade noted they brought their hands to their wrists and clasped them tightly.
"But… how did they find the patients soulmates?" The same counsellor asked.
"They just looked at the name in their bodies and that was it..." Wade took a deep breath before continuing. "I gave them a quick and painless death, and maybe the chance to see their loved ones again."
The mere thought of losing that person was unbearable and the demigods looked down to their feet. They stayed silent for a few long minutes before ending the meeting and leaving to busy their minds with the activities for the day, leaving the two men alone in the big room.