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Wade's life was like a literal movie sometimes. Here he was, driving in a Jeep Wrangler Convertible with the top down, the wind whipping his bright yellow head scarf through the air, the man of his dreams in the driver's seat next to him and Born in the USA blasting from the speakers. Who would've thought he'd be living the high life one day?
Wade took a sip of his iced strawberry latte, then adjusted his sunglasses and raised both arms into the air with a whoop to feel the wind whipping past his –
“Stop that, asshole,” Logan snapped, dragging his arms back down and almost knocking Wade's drink right out of his hand. “And take that shit off. You look ridiculous.”
“You're just a fucking hater.” Wade tossed one end of the scarf over his shoulder, sputtering when it wrapped back around the other side and hit him square in the face, obstructing his view. “Fuck! Grace Kelly lied to me, this shit is inconvenient as hell!”
“Just take it off, idiot.”
Wade huffed as he tugged the scarf off his head, stuffing it under the seat. “Whatever. Sue me for trying to set the mood.”
“We're almost there anyway.” Logan took the next exit off the uncharted street they were currently driving on, turning onto a dirt road that made Wade's teeth rattle with every uneven bump. Apparently people hadn't heard of asphalt out here in the middle of this no-man's-land south of Quintana Roo. They'd passed Campeche hours ago and somehow managed to avoid even the tiniest village since, just picking their way through the Mexican jungle at a snail's pace.
“I don't believe you anymore. You've been saying we're almost there since we crossed the fucking border,” Wade said, his voice hitching hilariously as his whole body bounced around the car like a pingpong ball. Logan glanced over at him, his brow furrowing.
“Have you not been wearing a seatbelt this whole fucking time?”
“Hey, I have a healing factor. Besides, I'm not the one who's made a habit of exiting cars through the windshield.”
“How do you even know –“ Logan shook his head. “Whatever. Put your seatbelt on.”
“Yes, daddy.” Wade pulled the strap into place, wincing when Logan punched him in the side. “What? I'm doing what you said.”
“Don't fucking call me that.”
“Fine. Stay in denial.” Wade turned up the radio and leaned back against the headrest, closing his eyes so he could enjoy the dulcet tones of Blackpink. Going on a roadtrip with the guy he'd had a pathetic crush on for almost seven months – which was incidentally the exact amount of time that Logan had lived with him now – might have sounded like a terrible idea to some, but Wade wasn't picky when it came to the crumbs life liked to throw at him. He'd take whatever he could get.
And at least being trapped in a car together meant that Logan couldn't just leave the room when he got sick of Wade. Yay for forced communication!
“Alright, I think this is it,” Logan said, and Wade opened his eyes to see that the jungle around them was – well, not entirely gone but reduced to a sparse set of dead-looking tree trunks. Which was weird as hell, but Wade wasn't going to be the one to point it out. It was probably Jeff Bezos' fault anyway.
What was much more exciting was the looming stone structure up ahead, which looked appropriately ancient and mysterious for what they were about to do. Wade let out a happy whoop, practically bouncing out of the car and towards the trunk, where he'd stashed all of his extensive artillery.
“This is going to be so fun,” Wade squealed, tucking three baby knives into their respective holsters, strapping a huge machete to his thigh and then digging through his stash of improvised gadgets. He'd refused to go on this Indiana Jones adventure without some appropriate gear – honestly, he wasn't entirely sure that the shit he'd MacGyvered together in the hour before takeoff would stand up to actual real life combat, but he was willing to take that chance for the cinematic feel. If he went into an ancient Mayan temple and started offing undead skeletons with his regular pistoleros, it would ruin the whole vibe.
“You're really taking all that?” Logan asked dubiously as he watched Wade don a sturdy leather belt and attach a wide array of weaponry to each carabiner. “We'll probably be in there for twenty minutes, max.”
“Ah, but what if there's a trapdoor or a labyrinth or a giant rock trying to run us over?” Wade asked as he tucked two handfuls of snacks into his remaining pockets. “We have to be prepared for all eventualities!”
Logan just rolled his eyes, pushing Wade away from the car and closing the trunk. “Let's go. The sooner we finish this, the better.”
“You're such a Debby downer,” Wade complained as he followed Logan towards the temple, heading up the dusty old stone steps. “This is the best thing that's happened to me all month. Don't ruin this for us.”
“Who's us? You're the only one bitching.”
“Wow. Solidarity is dead, huh? I see how it is.” Wade finished strapping the last of his gear to his belt, donning his mask and shaking out his shoulders as Logan pushed the gigantic rock covering the entrance out of the way like it weighed little more than a sack of flour. “Alright, peanut. Maximum effort.”
They walked into the temple like the middle-aged action heroes that they were, complete with slow motion, CGI particles and a nice golden-hour backlight from the setting sun outside. Wade was tempted to do a twirl or strike a pose with his Go Go Gadgets, but that could wait until later. For now, he was content to be keeping pace with Logan, shoulder to shoulder in an approximation of physical closeness. He'd love to reach out and hold Logan's hand, but he'd only just regrown that arm after their mission last week, and not being able to jerk off properly sucked ass.
“So,” Wade said as he double checked his guns and knives. “What exactly are we looking for here?”
“Gold medallion with a blue diamond in it,” Logan said, and Wade paused, squinting at Logan.
“Wait a second. I thought we were hunting down some alien thingamajig, not a priceless cultural heirloom.”
Logan frowned. “Yes? That's what it is. Chuck showed us pictures.”
“Great,” Wade sighed, shaking his head. “Two white guys stealing an ancient artifact from a Mayan temple, that's not problematic at all.”
“It's not a fucking artifact, it was planted here,” Logan said, clearly annoyed. “And it's messing with the ecosystem, so it has to go. Weren't you listening?”
“I never listen, it's one of my most endearing qualities,” Wade said, batting his non-existent eyelashes. “Ah well, as long as we don't say 'Rule Britannia' when we take it, we might skirt by on a technicality.”
Logan had clearly stopped listening to him – hypocrite much? – his head swiveling like a bloodhound sniffing out his prey. As if he'd be able to pick up anything through the five inch layer of dust covering this entire place. Wade was going to be picking dust bunnies out of his ass when they got home, he just knew it.
“Are your metal senses going off? Does real recognize real?” Wade twirled a knife in his hand, just for shits and giggles. “Maybe we can magnetize your bones, and it'll just come right to us. Wait, is gold magnetic? Has to be, right?”
Logan grunted and walked away without comment, further into the large entrance room. Wade followed him, swiping his fingers along the wall and grimacing when it whirled up a cloud of dust. Thank fuck he was wearing his suit with its superior air filtration fabric or he'd probably be coughing his lungs out.
Much more concerning than that was the fact that this room didn't seem to have any doors or stairs to speak of. By all appearances, this whole temple seemed to be one large foyer and not much else. Which Wade could respect, if not for the fact that he called bullshit on the entire thing.
“There's got to be a trapdoor somewhere,” he said, tapping his foot on each and every suspicious-looking floor tile. Which was pretty much all of them, unfortunately. Whoever had built this place clearly hadn't heard of the wonders of a leveled out floor plan. Those poor Mayan ankles. “Come on, do your little sniff sniff thing, I'm sure you can find it, big boy.”
“Shut the fuck up.” True to Wade's word though, Logan seemed to have a clear direction in mind as he picked his way across the floor, eventually coming to a stop near the far left corner of the room. “It's down here.”
“Yay! Supersniffer one, Mayans zero.” Wade bounced over to where Logan was crouching on the floor, one hand pressed against the stone. “Okay, so how do we do this? Find the secret lever? Set off a trap maybe? Or –“
Logan punched straight through the floor, scooting back fast when the tiles started to crumble underneath him. Wade looked down at the fast-expanding hole in the ground until the destruction came to a stop, ending in a nice, horror-movie-esque circular pit to hell. It was so dark that Wade could barely see the walls on each side of what seemed to be a mineshaft-like structure, maybe seven feet wide. He whistled. “Well, that's one way to do it. You think this is the way to go?”
“Has to be. This room's a dead end,” Logan said, crouching down again and squinting into the darkness. “Looks pretty deep.”
Tragically bereft of kitty cat night vision, Wade instead kicked an apple-sized rock down into the shaft. There were about ten seconds of silence before it hit the ground with a distant thud.
“Wonderful,” Wade sighed. “So you think we're going to find a ladder somewhere around here? Or maybe –“
Logan jumped into the hole without hesitation. Wade winced when he heard the impact, a splintering sound of rock breaking under Logan's weight.
“I'm not carrying you back up here if you broke your ankles,” Wade shouted through the hole, frowning when his only answer was the sound of retreating footsteps. “Hey! We have a buddy system, you can't just leave!”
“Quit stalling and jump,” Logan said, somehow loud enough to be heard without raising his voice. Maybe it was his presence carrying that shit through the air, who knew? Wade was no scientist.
He was, however, the much cooler version of Inspector Gadget right now.
Wade rifled through the tools on his belt, picking up the sawed off shotgun he'd repurposed into the Rope Slinger 9000, trademark pending. If Spiderman saw this baby, he would piss himself with jealousy, because there was a new Web-Slinger and Wall-Crawler in town.
Wade crouched down next to the hole, firing at the wall about halfway down the shaft. Nobody was more surprised than him when the rope gun actually worked, embedding the jerry-rigged grappling hook deep into the stone. Wade tugged on it twice for safety before he swung himself into the hole, yelling like Tarzan until the rope pulled taut and caught his weight, sending his body towards the closest wall. He braced his feet on it and pushed off as he let go of the gun, flipping backwards like a motherfucking trapeze artist.
After a graceful double backflip, Wade straightened out and stuck the landing, arms out at his side, head lowered and one knee on the ground. He whipped his head up in an appropriately dramatic fashion – and Logan wasn't even looking at him. Fucking typical.
“You're a terrible audience, you know that?” Wade asked as he stood up, wobbling a little while his shattered kneecap knitted itself back together. “That was probably the sickest shit I've ever done, and you're over here playing with your balls instead of cheering for my success.”
“You cheer for yourself enough.” Logan pulled out a flashlight, which – oh yeah, Wade should have thought of that. And he wasn't about to get out his phone flashlight, that would just ruin the atmosphere. Or turn this into a D-list horror movie, which would be infinitely worse. “Come on.”
Wade followed Logan into the dark tunnel that led away from the shaft, a little miffed when Logan still didn't look at him, even though Wade was doing his very best Indiana Jones strut, feeling up the walls as they went and everything.
“I should've brought the booty shorts,” Wade grumbled. “Might at least get me a little respect around here. Lara Croft has nothing on me.”
“I see something.”
Wade squinted into the darkness, going on his tippy toes to look over Logan's shoulder – and sure enough, the tunnel opened up into a much larger room with a circular ceiling and –
“Watch it!”
Logan's arm slamming across his chest was the only thing that stopped Wade from tumbling straight into the abyss right in front of them. He instantly pressed himself back against the wall, his heart hammering in his chest. “Jesus fuck! How deep does this go?”
“Do you want to find out?” Wade couldn't see the look on Logan's face, which was probably a good thing, given his disgruntled tone. Wade startled when Logan pushed the flashlight into his hands. “Hold this.”
“What?” Logan was walking back into the tunnel already, and Wade was only confused for a second before his eyes fell on the platform smack dab in the center of the drop to hell, upon which was a podium, upon which was – you guessed it – a gold medallion with a giant blue diamond embedded in it. Which was the exact moment that Wade realized that Logan was getting ready to jump over there, despite the fact that it looked like there was barely enough room for a single person to stand on it.
“Wait!” he called out, stepping into Logan's path and waving the flashlight. “Let me do it! I can –“
But Logan had already started sprinting. Wade barely managed to get out of the way in time for Logan to leap across, making the jump easily and landing on the platform with every ounce of his feline grace. As soon as his feet touched the stone though, a menacing rumble echoed through the room as the walls started shaking.
“Logan!” Wade called out, and luckily Logan ducked just in time for the barrage of arrows to miss most of him. Two of them embedded themselves in Logan's side, drawing a pained grunt from him as Logan wobbled ever so slightly backwards. Right towards the steep drop.
Wade didn't even think. He grabbed the lasso from his belt and swung it towards Logan – where it smacked uselessly against Logan's side. Who knew lassoing was hard? “Fuck! Okay, grab the rope, I'll pull you back up, I swear on my life, I will not let you di–“
With another powerful leap, Logan twisted in the air and landed on all fours right next to Wade. He stood up, dusted himself off, pulled the arrows out of his flesh with a grunt and punched Wade in the arm. “What the fuck was that?”
“Oh sure, sue me for trying to help,” Wade snarked, reeling his lasso back in so he could stow it for later use. Or – actually. “I have an idea.”
“That's the first sign of the apocalypse.”
“Was that – did you just make a joke?” Wade asked incredulously. “You? At me?”
Logan grunted, already moving away to gather momentum for another jump – but Wade held out his arm.
“No, wait. You'll just set off another trap. I got this.”
Even in the low light, Wade could make out the skeptical look on Logan's face. Which only turned worse when Wade pulled a suction cup out of one of his pouches. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
“What? It always works in the movies.” Wade tied his precious tool to the end of the lasso, pulling the knot tight. “Trust me, this is going to be epic.”
“Fuck no. I'm getting it, move.”
“Not a chance.” Wade swung the lasso, taking aim with his tongue trapped between his teeth, one eye squeezed shut in concentration. It was probably going to be easier to toss it now that he had some weight on the end of it, right? Only one way to find out.
The throw was beautiful. Downright cinematic, even. The rope sailed through the air, straight towards its target, ready to secure their mission success – and on the swing back, the suction cup knocked the medallion clean off the podium, sending it toppling down into the abyss right in front of Wade.
“Fuck!” Wade leapt after it, hands outstretched so far that his shoulder joints popped. “Gotcha!” he crowed when he managed to grab it by the tips of his fingers, only then realizing that his feet had left the floor entirely and he was about to plummet to his death – but a firm grip on his left ankle arrested his fall and pulled him back up with one powerful tug.
Wade knocked his head on the wall as he landed, all the air punching out of his lungs with an undignified squeak. But he was still clutching the medallion, which was the important part.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Logan snapped, which was rich, coming from Mr. I'll-kill-myself-for-a-Klondike-bar.
“Relax, angel face. I got the goods.” Wade tossed the medallion up in the air and deftly caught it again. “Thanks for the save, peanut.”
“Don't pull that shit again,” Logan growled, stomping back towards the entrance like the angry little honey badger that he was. “We're leaving. Hurry up.”
“Anything for you, shnookums.” Wade blew him a kiss, not that Logan saw it. Speaking of, pretty soon Wade wasn't going to see shit if Logan walked away any further with that flashlight, so he scrambled to his feet and followed him into the tunnel.
When they got back to the faux mineshaft, the rope gun was still dangling off the wall. Wade took a running leap at it and managed to grab a hold of the gun by the skin of his teeth. He tugged on it a few times, whipping the rope around until the grappling hook finally came loose, bringing a shower of debris down onto their heads as Wade dropped back to the floor with his prize in hand. Logan gave him a shrewd look.
“Why'd you do that? We could've just climbed up the rope.”
“Pfft, you really think I built this beauty to only let it blow one load? Think again,” Wade said as he rolled up the rope, fitting the hook back into the barrel. “It's double or nothing. Deny my gun its orgasmic release at your own peril.”
Logan wrinkled his nose. “You're disgusting.”
“Aw, I love you too.” Wade took aim at a spot high up on the left side of the shaft and fired. The grappling hook launched through the air like a beautiful, tiny rocket, flying directly at the wall – only to bounce right off.
It didn't come straight down though. Instead it kept bouncing around the shaft, picking up velocity as it changed course back towards the ground. Those walls had to be hella uneven, because Wade could barely track its pathing, it was moving so fast. Which was why Wade was completely unprepared for it to take an abrupt swan dive – directly into his skull.
There was a brief moment where he met eyes with Logan, the world bursting into vivid technicolor – and then it all went dark.
Wade jerked awake like a jack in a box, practically springing up to sitting and shaking his head like a wet dog.
“Brrr – what the fuck was that?”
“You're back?” Logan asked from where he was standing over Wade with an unamused look on his face. A glance around the room showed that Logan had somehow gotten both of them back up into the temple's main entrance. Which was a missed fucking opportunity to play the damsel in distress if Wade ever saw one.
“Did you carry me?” he simpered, putting a hand on his chest and fluttering his non-existent lashes at Logan. “Like a princess? Did they play Cascada or Celine?”
“Shut up.” Logan was doing his most stankiest of faces. Which usually meant that Wade was right, but Logan didn't want to admit it. Wade sighed happily.
“I've always wanted to be rescued by a strapping, old action hero. Hey, can I ride you to the car?”
“The fuck did you just say?”
“Piggyback ride. Don't be nasty.” Wade anticipated the fist to his ribs. He still didn't dodge it. “So can I?”
“No.”
Wade pouted at Logan's retreating back as he followed him out of the temple. The uneven floor really was annoying, not that Wade couldn't handle it, what with his grace of a dancer, his unmatched sense of balance, his – whoops!
Wade windmilled his arms as he tripped and fell, landing flat on his face. There was a click as the floor tile directly underneath his forehead sank about an inch into the ground. “Uh-oh.”
Wade looked up just in time for the massive wooden log to drop down onto his head. Then he was out like a light.
He woke up in the passenger seat of the jeep this time, which meant he'd missed getting carried around by Logan again. Damn it!
“If I had a dollar for every time I've died in a temple, I'd have two dollars. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.”
“You're not funny,” Logan grumbled, his hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. Wade patted his hips where his Go Go Gadget belt clearly wasn't. He'd barely opened his mouth to ask when Logan said, “I got your stuff. It's in the trunk.”
“Oh, thank god,” Wade sighed, his head thunking back against the car seat. “Did the Rope Slinger 9000 survive?”
“The gun? No.”
“Fuck!” Wade punched the glovebox. “Fucking shit! I was going to show it to Peter.”
“Don't know if he would appreciate it.”
“Not him. The other Peter.” Wade groaned. “Now I have to sacrifice another shotgun to make the Rope Slinger 9001.”
“You have dozens of them.”
“And they're all precious to me! It's like asking me to give up one of my children.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “So buy a new one.”
“Ugh. Your inner nepo baby is showing.”
“I don't know what that means.”
“Sure you don't, rich boy.” Wade turned on the radio, which dropped a sick no-signal-crackling beat. Not Wade's favorite sound to dance to, but he could make do in a pinch. Except Logan decided to be a boner kill and turn it off. “Boo. I was enjoying that.”
“I don't care.” Rude. “Make yourself useful and pull up the map.”
“You could just ask me without being a dick, you know that? I hear it's all the rage in Europe.”
“I'm Canadian.”
“Aw, we have so much in common!” Wade pulled up google maps on his phone and entered their home address. “Look at that! Only twenty-six hours to the border. I hope we beat the rush hour.”
“We'll stop at a motel on the way. As soon as the sun comes up,” Logan said, and well, Wade couldn't argue with sleeping in a bed instead of breaking his rickety, middle-aged back on a car seat.
“Sleeping during the day? You really love keeping odd hours, don't you?”
“I don't want to hear that from you,” Logan grumped. “How long did you stay up with your little video game buddies again?”
“Why, are you jealous?” Wade grabbed a pack of gummy worms from the glove department, popping one into his mouth. “You're still my favorite, don't worry. No matter how many times he revives me, I'll never choose HanzoStan69 over you.”
Logan grunted in response, still with that sour look on his face. Wade offered him some gummies to make the inside match the outside, but Logan pushed his hand away. Oh well. More for Wade.
He scooped out an entire handful and popped it into his mouth, intending to chew it thoroughly before swallowing. Except somehow one of the gummies hit the back of his throat, making him breathe in reflexively – and getting it stuck in the wrong pipe.
He gagged, leaning forward to hopefully spit it back out, but the gummy was lodged somewhere deep in his esophagus, moving neither forwards nor backwards. His eyes watered as he tried to hack it up, gasping and choking for air that wouldn't come.
“Hey. Hey!” Wade jerked forward when Logan hit him on the back several times. Unfortunately, it only made him choke harder. The world was starting to swim around him as he scrambled for something, anything to help, clutching at Logan's arm as his lungs tried to turn themselves inside out. “Wade! Fuck, spit it out, come on!”
There was no more air. Wade squeezed his eyes shut, trying to gasp, trying to breathe and only managing to make his throat spasm painfully. His head felt like it was swelling, pressure building behind his eyes and in his temples. He knew this feeling well. For a moment, all he could see was the glass cover over his head, the dark ceiling beyond, while he suffocated again and again for hours, for days –
The car jerked to a stop so abruptly that Wade bashed his head on the glovebox, hunched over and gagging. Logan kept pounding on his spine before he tipped Wade's head back and forced his mouth open, digging around for the wayward gummy worm. But it was too late.
The last thought Wade had was that this definitely wasn't how he'd wanted to get Logan's fingers in his mouth.
Wade was lying on his side in the grass when he came to, his throat still feeling a little raw. Logan was kneeling right next to him, a hand on Wade's shoulder and a severely constipated look on his face.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Wade croaked, reaching up to touch Logan's face like a movie heroine, but Logan batted his hand away. Spoilsport. “Did you just dig half-chewed gummy worms out of my mouth?”
If possible, Logan looked even more uncomfortable. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I just relived my most traumatic nightmare and came out stronger on the other side.” That was a lie, Wade felt as weak-limbed and shivery as a newborn colt, but Logan didn't have to know that. As long as Wade didn't move around too much, he could probably hide it. “How long was I out?”
“Couple minutes.”
“Ah. Not bad then.”
“Not bad?” Logan glared at him. “You died.”
Wade blinked at him. “Yes?”
“You fucking – are you serious?”
“Serious how?” Wade held up a hand. “Actually, if you're going to yell at me, could you get me some water first? My throat feels like I just finished a double shift sucking sandpaper dicks at a truck stop glory hole.”
In a miraculous turn of events, Logan got up without protest, walking to the car and grabbing a bottle of water for Wade. It did wonders for his parched throat, which was thankfully already knitting the remaining tears and scratches back together. Wade coughed a few times, just to make sure his lungs were back to factory settings too, freezing when Logan grabbed his shoulder in a too tight grip.
“You good? Still got some in there?”
“Nah, I think you got it all.” Wade glanced up at him, weirdly discomfited by Logan's intense gaze. “Thanks, by the way. Forgot to say that earlier.”
Logan frowned. “Don't thank me. Just stop inhaling your food like a fucking dog. Even Mary has better table manners than you.”
Okay, that was kind of mean. “I wasn't –“
“Yes, you were. You always do it.” Oh, so Logan was trying to pick a fight. That made sense.
Not really.
“At least I don't guzzle booze like it's water,” Wade said, and Logan's eyes flared.
“We're not talking about me right now.”
“Yeah, well, maybe we should – ouch.”
Wade flinched at a sudden pain in his leg, slapping his hand down on what was probably a mosquito bite – except his hand closed around something much more leathery and garden-hosey. He brought it up so he could see it, blinking at the spotted face of a brownish snake with a yellow belly. It hissed at him, its tongue flicking out of its mouth.
“That's an Inland Taipan,” he said, his mouth already tingling numb. “I don't think Mexico's supposed to have these.”
Logan snatched the snake out of his hands, tossing it away into a nearby bush. His gaze was fixed on Wade, intently staring at his face. “Your lips are turning blue.”
“Are they?” It was getting hard to speak. Hard to move too, what with the paralysis. “Wow. That venom sure works fast. Did you know there's never been a recorded human death by Inland Taipan, even though it's the most venomous snake in the world? I'm about to make history, peanut.”
“What do I do?” Logan frantically tugged at Wade's leg, probably trying to pull the fabric up to find the bite wound. Good luck getting that spandex to move after Wade had already sweated in it. Wade would've loved to say that out loud, but his face was entirely stiff already, his lungs refusing to take in air. Suffocation was one of his least favorite ways to die, for obvious trauma-related reasons – thank you and fuck you, Francis – so getting to experience it twice in the same hour was fucking awesome, thanks.
What a time to be alive. Well, not for much longer, thank fuck.
“Wade. Wade!” Logan's face appeared in Wade's vision again, pale and harried. Which was weird, because it wasn't like Wade wasn't going to wake up again within minutes – “Fuck. Fuck, I don't know what to do –“
Unfortunately, Wade died before Logan could figure it out.
“This is weird, right?” Wade slurred, his tongue still a little swollen from all the venom. This was probably what Eddie Brock spitting in his mouth would feel like. “Dying once or twice I get, but this is turning into a pattern. Do you hear Heat of the Moment playing in the background or is that copyright infringement?”
Logan didn't answer. He was staring straight ahead through the windshield, as he had been for the past half hour, tearing down the dirt road at top speed.
“Maybe my past sins have come back to haunt me,” Wade sighed, head thunking back against the car seat. “This is my comeuppance for not paying any taxes. The IRS is getting its revenge via venomous snakes and gummy worms. Hell, maybe this is divine justice. Did I say Heat of the Moment? I think I'm hearing that Goku Black song. Pretty good soundtrack to be honest, I really like the screaming –”
“It's that fucking thing we took,” Logan interrupted him, his hands clenching around the steering wheel until his knuckles stood out white. “Has to be.”
“I don't think it doubles as a loudspeaker, but sure –“
“It's making you die, idiot.”
“Ah.” Wade nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. Should've known that the ancient artifact would be cursed, it's a classic trope.”
“It's not an artifact.”
“Alien thingamajig, whatever.” Wade grabbed the gummy worms from the glove compartment again. Before he could even put one in his mouth, Logan ripped the pack out of his hand and tossed it out the window. “Hey,” Wade protested, but Logan just glared at him.
“Don't touch anything. Keep your hands to yourself.”
“You're asking for the impossible, peanut. My hands were made to explore, to roam, not to be chained by your rules and regulations.”
“Shut the fuck up and sit still.”
“Fine.” Wade crossed his arms over his chest, looking out the window. He absentmindedly patted his belt pouch, where the medallion was hidden – except the pocket was suspiciously flat. Wade shoved his hand inside, checking every other pouch he had as well, but they were all empty. “Wait,” he shouted, looking around the car in a panic. “Where's the alien thingy?”
“Don't worry about it,” Logan said, as if that was in any way reassuring.
“No, seriously. I don't have it anymore. Fuck.” Wade turned on Logan, eyes narrowing suspiciously when Logan failed to look surprised in any way. “Did you toss it out the window too? Cause I'm not going back to dig through the underbrush if –”
“I have it. It's fine.” Logan tapped his hands on the steering wheel, clearly unbothered by Wade's incredulous stare digging into the side of his face.
“You touched it? Are you insane?”
“You did it first.”
“And you're taking me as a shining example of reason and rationality now? Since the fuck when?” Wade shouted, waving his arms furiously. “What if you start dying now?”
“Oh, so it's okay if you die, but if it's me, it's a bad thing?”
“Yes!” Wade lunged at Logan, patting him down to try and find the fucking thing. Logan tried to bat him off, but Wade was persistent, making sure to check every pocket, every nook and cranny –
“Stop it! I'm fucking driving,” Logan snapped at him, and Wade was just about to make sure Logan hadn't used his prison wallet when the engine made an unnerving clanking sound.
“Um. Did you hear that?” Wade asked, and Logan pushed him back into his seat with one hand as he slowed the car to a stop right next to what looked like a small-ish river. Not a second too soon, because the cloud of smoke billowing out from under the hood probably wasn't a good sign.
“Get out of the car,” Logan snapped, and Wade had barely followed his instructions before Logan grabbed him by the hand and dragged him away real quick-like.
“Okay,” Wade said, secretly thrilled to be able to scratch holding hands with the motherfucking Wolverine off his bucket list. “So are we –“
The shockwave of the car exploding sent both of them sailing through the air for a good few yards, Wade somehow managing to land underneath Logan's crushing weight. His spine gave a sickening crack, which probably wasn't good, but that was fine. Wade had handled worse. He spluttered around a mouthful of mud, digging a sharp riverside rock out from under his ass.
“Well, that was a freebie,” he said, eying the burning remains of their car as the tinnitus in his ear slowly faded. Thank you, healing factor. “Looks like we're walking to the border, peanut. I hope you brought your good hiking boots. Who am I kidding, you only have the one pair, you stingy bitch.”
Logan was panting harshly, his forehead pressed against Wade's neck. Wade poked him in the side.
“Hey, you good? Did you get shrapnel in your back?”
Logan slowly sat up, turning back towards the car, presumably to survey the damage, before he looked at Wade again with a haunted look in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yup. Right as rain.” Wade rolled his head across the ground, enjoying the muddy texture against his scalp. He'd probably need to wash that off later. “You?”
“Yeah.” Logan carded a hand through his hair, looking like a nineties action hero with an artful smear of mud right across his cheekbone. Fucking perfect asshole. “I need to get the alien thing. I put it in the trunk.”
“Yeah, you do that.” Wade waved him away. “I'll just wait for my spine to knit itself back together again.”
Logan's eyes went sharp. “Your spine?”
“Eh, not the first time. Don't worry, I won't die from it.” He grinned. “Go on, go fetch. There's a good puppy.”
Logan growled, but he did get up and walk over to the burning wreckage of the car. Which was when Wade realized with a panic that if the curse had transferred from him to Logan somehow, then Logan would probably get blown up again or something even worse – “Wait! Don't!”
Logan whipped around, his eyes going wide as he started running back towards Wade. “Fuck! Watch ou–“
The crocodile's jaws snapped shut on Wade's skull before Logan could finish the sentence.
A swarm of insects turned Wade into a shapeless blob of swollen scar tissue. A loose bit of rock crumbled out from underneath him and dropped him off a previously unseen cliff. A flock of asshole parrots picked out his eyes. Wade didn't even die from that one, it was just annoying. But thankfully a coconut brained him so hard his body chose to die about it a couple minutes later. That half hour of blissful ignorance gave his body enough time to kindly grow his eyes back, only for his ribcage to get bashed in by a charging hog that came out of nowhere.
Wade could tell that Logan was getting annoyed by the whole thing. When Wade was alive and well – by a given definition of well –, Logan was tense, snappish, clearly on edge. And every time Wade died and came back to life, he swore he could see Logan's mood plummet further and further. Which was understandable. Logan was the one who kept having to pick up Wade's pieces, sometimes literally, while Wade got to peace out within minutes of whatever cruel and unusual punishment the curse hit him with next.
Some deaths weren't so quick and painless, unfortunately.
Getting run through by a metal fence post and slowly bleeding to death? Not fun. Getting electrocuted by a public restroom's hand dryer and living through a full minute of every cell in his body exploding with pain? Definitely not fun. And since Wade had never been a fan of drowning, he couldn't say that he enjoyed falling down a well and getting so tangled up in the rope on the way down that he tragically died before Logan could fish him back out.
Thankfully they reached civilization within the next few hours. Wade tried to keep an eye out for anything unusual that might turn out to be the next death trap as they walked down the street towards a motel that Logan had found on google maps all on his own. Wade was very proud.
“Don't touch anything,” Logan reminded him, and Wade raised his hands in supplication. He hadn't even brought any of his gadgets with him, even though a lot of them had miraculously survived the explosion. He still really wanted a weapon to at least try to defend himself against possible attacks, but after accidentally blowing his brains out twice, he understood why Logan didn't want to take the risk anymore. “I'll get us a room.”
“Sure thing, shnookums. Mind leaving that thing to me?” Wade asked, pointing at the alien thingamajig in Logan's bag. Logan gave him a dirty look, pulling the strap a little higher.
“No.” With that he disappeared into the building, leaving Wade to his own devices. Which was definitely a mistake, because it barely took ten seconds for some cartoonishly shadowy figure to beckon him towards a dark alleyway.
“No, thanks, I'm good,” Wade called out to them, already mourning the opportunity to potentially overdose on experimental drugs. He side-stepped a flower pot that dropped from the balcony above, narrowly missing his head. A couple started fighting loudly in the building to his left, and Wade ducked just in time to avoid getting brained by the vase that flew out of the window a second later. “Wow, real original, Mr. McCurse. You got anything better than projectiles?”
Wade really should've kept his mouth shut. If only to avoid the sight of a raccoon charging at him on unsteady feet, foaming at the mouth.
“Oh, ew, come on. Leave the rabies raccoons out of this.” Wade danced away on light feet, clicking his tongue when the raccoon toddled in a messy circle before it laid eyes on him again, hissing and spraying gross rabies foam everywhere. “No! You don't get to make me kick an animal! First off, that's just fucked up, and secondly, I've got a special place in my heart for mustelids – wait, are raccoons even mustelids –“
“Wade! Quit fucking around, let's go!”
Wade looked up, waving at Logan as he jogged across the street to the motel. “Hey, peanut! Check this out, I think I'm developing a spidey sense for –“
Everything but approaching cars, apparently.
Falling out of the motel's fourth floor window because he'd just had to sit on the ledge to take pictures of the sunset? Yeah, that one was definitely on him.
The fall lasted only a couple of seconds, but the questionable joy of spitting blood through chipped teeth while his broken bones ground against each other with every strained breath he took lasted a lot longer than that. Long enough for Logan to come sliding down the rain pipe and run over to him, dropping to his knees at Wade's side.
“Hey, were you a firefighter or a stripper in your previous life?” Wade asked, hacking up another mouthful of blood for the trouble. “Cause that move was a little too practiced, buddy.”
“Don't talk. Stay with me,” Logan said as he gathered Wade's body into his arms – ouch – touching the back of his head where Wade could feel most of the pain radiating from. “Shit. You're –“
“Yeah, I'm probably gonna kick it soon.” Wade put on his best weepy-eyed pout, making his voice weak and trembly as he said, “Promise me you'll take care of the kids. They'll need you when I'm gone.”
“What?” Logan snapped, and Wade coughed dramatically as his vision started to go gray at the edges, the blood loss finally catching up to him.
“God, it's so hard to go.” He fumbled for Logan's hand, surprised when he didn't get his palm speared on metal claws for the trouble. Well, time to go for his Oscar. “But I can see the light. It's calling to me.”
“Stop messing around.” Wade gasped when Logan pressed down on his biggest wound, applying completely unnecessary first aid. “You're going to be fine.”
“My body is broken,” Wade rasped in his best impression of Théoden. “I go to my fathers. And even in their mighty company I shall not now be ashamed.”
“Wade,” Logan growled, and oh wow, they were definitely getting that Oscar. Wade would almost swear that he could see real pain in Logan's eyes. Though that was probably just the blood loss talking. “Stop it. Look at me.”
“Remember me,” Wade breathed, closing his eyes as death took him again.
Miraculously, Wade made it through the rest of the night without another incident. By the time he woke up, Logan had already bought breakfast, gotten Wade a set of musky but unbloodied clothes and rented them a new car.
“Busy little honey badger, aren't you?” Wade asked. Logan barely even looked at him, just kept tossing what little was left of their stuff into the trunk, along with what seemed like a day's worth of food and a tent. “Are we going camping? If so, I want cheap beer and canned ravioli.”
“Get in,” Logan said curtly, clearly pissed off about something. Given that it was Logan, that could mean either that Wade had fucked up somehow or that it was just a regular Tuesday. Based on his own track record, Wade was going to assume he'd fucked up.
“Are you sure that's a good idea? What's the warranty on this thing? If we crash it, are we going to get a lifetime ban at Sunny Cars, cause I'm pretty sure I'll require their services at some point in the futu–“
“Get. In the fucking. Car.”
Wade shut up and did as Logan said, feeling a little apprehensive as he watched Logan do the same, slamming the car door shut and aggressively putting on his seatbelt. “Uh. Peanut, are you o–“
“Buckle in, or I swear to god, I'll toss you through the windshield myself.”
Again, Wade followed Logan's instructions silently. He was starting to get the feeling that something was seriously wrong here. “What's going on? Is it Al? Laura? The X-Men?”
Logan glared at him. “What?”
“Did someone call with bad news? Or –“
“I called them. They can't pick us up in the jet.” Logan sounded like he was gnashing each word between his teeth. “Foreign jurisdiction. They don't have a permit to fly into Mexico, and getting one would take too long.”
Wade blinked. Why the hell would the X-Men fly down here in the first place? “Okay?”
“So they're going to meet us at the fucking border,” Logan growled, his hands clenched around the steering wheel. “We're taking the jet home from there.”
Wade's brow bones rose. “Uh. You sure? If I'm on it, it'll probably crash. And contrary to popular belief, most of the X-Men can actually die and stay dead for good.”
Logan gritted his teeth. “I'll fly it. They're taking the car back.”
Wade snorted a laugh, surprised when Logan didn't even crack a smile. “What, for real? You're gonna fly the jet? You?”
“If you pilot, we're definitely going to crash. Now shut the fuck up until we get there.”
“Physically impossible. If I don't talk, I'll perish.”
“Wade.” Uh-oh. That was Logan's serious voice. The do-as-I-say-or-I'll-commit-acts-of-violence one.
Wade mimed zipping his lips shut and leaned his head against the window, watching the scenery pass him by. This whole trip was starting to suck some serious ass. He'd been super excited to spend a whole bunch of alone time with Logan, and now he kept dying and missing all the fun bits every five minutes. Wade fucking hated this.
He just hoped that it'd be over soon.
Logan drove for nine hours straight. It was very impressive and vaguely concerning at the same time. Wade's blood had to be ninety percent Red Bull by now, and he still had to fight hard not to fall asleep. He had no idea how Logan hadn't crashed the car into a tree yet.
Even more exciting was the fact that Wade didn't die once on that entire trip. He'd cut it close a few times, and Logan still hadn't allowed him to eat anything solid again, but all in all, Wade thought they were doing pretty great.
For a little while there, he'd worried that the curse might have actually transferred over to Logan somehow and that that was the reason why Wade had stopped dying so much. But then a tree branch had crashed through his window and almost impaled him, and Wade had relaxed again. Logan hadn't even flinched, just stepped on the gas a little harder.
“Are we there yet? I have to pee,” Wade said for the one hundredth time, expecting another nonverbal grunt instead of an answer, but instead Logan sighed and took the next exit off the highway. Wade clapped excitedly. “Oh Em Gee, really? If we're making a piss stop, I want more energy drinks and a gas station hot dog!”
“You'd just choke on the hot dog,” Logan said, and Wade snorted, waggling his nonexistent eyebrows.
“Well, there's a different kind of hot dog that I'd rather be choking on, if you know what I mean. Any chance we could make that happen?”
Logan didn't even bother acknowledging his joke. He just kept driving for a few more minutes before he pulled the car off the road and parked it near a line of trees. Wade squinted out into the semi-darkness, but all he saw was forest and even more forest.
“Uh. Peanut? This isn't a gas station.”
“Never said it was.” Logan got out of the car, and Wade scrambled to follow him, squealing in delight when Logan pulled the tent out of the trunk.
“Oh my god, we're actually camping! That's so teen horror movie core, I love it!”
“We're not staying the night, just napping,” Logan warned, and Wade threw his head back with a groan.
“Ugh, you're no fun! Come on, peanut, this is a golden opportunity for some team bonding! We should make a campfire! Did you bring all the stuff for s'mores?”
“I brought beans.”
“Bea– beans?” Wade asked incredulously, and Logan shrugged.
“Hard to choke on beans if you mash them first.”
Wade gagged dramatically. “Okay, no. I draw the line at bean mush.”
“Fine. Hold on until tomorrow then.”
“You want me to starve?” Wade put a hand on his chest, pouting at Logan in the style of Mary Puppins, which hopefully looked as cute on him as it did on her. “That's too cruel, honey badger. I'm a growing Deadpool with needs, and I –“
“Watch it!” A strong grip on his arm dragged Wade forward and out of the way of the shower of bugs that rained down on them from the closest tree.
“Oh, ew, ew, ew!” Wade patted himself down reflexively, dancing out of the way of the – ugh, giant swarm of black widows that was now scattering all over the ground, thankfully heading away from them and into the forest. “Yeah, you better run!” he called after them. “If I want a black widow to sit on my face, I'll call Scarlett Johansson!”
He stumbled a little when Logan dragged him even further away from the forest, staring at the spiders with a spooked look in his eyes. Then he turned to Wade, patting him down with jerky motions. “Did any of them bite you? Or –“
“Nah, I'm good. Certified spider-free.” Just as Wade said it, Logan flicked a finger against the neckline of his shirt, and Wade watched the brave little spider go flying. Whoops. “Yeah, okay. Now I am.”
Logan huffed, grabbing Wade by the shoulders to turn him around and get his back as well. “Don't go near the trees. We'll sleep in the car.”
“What? No, come on, I want to use the tent! If we keep the flaps shut, we won't get any creepy crawlers in the night.” Wade folded his hands in front of him, looking beseechingly at Logan. “Pretty please with a cherry on top? I'll be on my best behavior, I promise.”
“No.”
“Please?” Wade did his best impression of the dog in Puss in Boots 2, the far superior sequel, and Logan took one look at him before he sighed.
“Fine. But you're not leaving the tent once you're inside.”
Wade whooped, pumping his fist in the air. “Oh, hell yeah! I've always wanted to be a kept man!”
“And you put your suit back on.”
Wade paused. “Okay? Any particular reason why?”
Logan was silent for a moment before he said, “Spiders.”
“Spiders.” Wade nodded. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense.”
“Right.” Logan grabbed the tent from where he'd dropped it on the floor and started setting it up. Wade tried to help, but as it turned out, a tent consisted of a whole bunch of vaguely weapon-shaped objects, and after the second time that Wade almost rammed a tent pole through his eye and into his brain, Logan banished him to the other side of the car, where Wade sat pouting and batting away one scorpion after another. These animal-related deaths were quickly becoming repetitive. He hoped he wasn't going to get shanked by a dragonfly or something equally ridiculous.
In the end, they didn't make a campfire, because Logan didn't trust Wade not to fall face first into the flames. However, after much wheedling, Logan did allow Wade to eat a couple of strips of beef jerky, though Logan kept watching him like a hawk the entire time. Wade was tempted to put on a show and demonstrate his prowess at fellating salty meats, but Logan looked so high-strung that Wade didn't really want to add even more frustration on top of that.
Did that count as character growth? Either way, he was proud of himself.
When they were finally lying in the tent, Logan checked every inch of the tarp four times before he closed the flap, shutting out any unwanted visitors. Unless those visitors were monkeys. Or jaguars. Or – god forbid – humans.
“Okay, look,” Wade said when Logan inspected the tent for a fifth time, apparently still checking for any holes or gaps. “Your dedication to keeping me alive is real sweet and all, but if a bug eats my pancreas in the middle of the night, I probably won't even notice. Besides, I'll be fine by morning, right?”
Logan glared at him. “Or we can just make sure than you don't die in the first place.”
Wade sighed dramatically, flopping down onto his back and staring up at the roof of the tent. “Fine. Have it your way, old man.”
By the time Logan was finally satisfied with their tent security and slumped down at his side, Wade was already half asleep. These last two days had been exhausting, and he knew Logan probably felt the same way, considering all of this had been much harder on him than it had on Wade. Constantly dragging Wade's unalived body around had to be pretty damn unpleasant, not to mention inconvenient. Wade swallowed past the lump of guilt in his throat to say, “Thanks. For doing all this.”
Logan stared at him for a very long moment. Then he averted his eyes and said, “Get some rest, bub. I'll wake you for breakfast.”
Wade sighed, closing his eyes and slowly drifting off to sleep.
Hopefully they could get this shit worked out by tomorrow.
Wade's awakening was pretty rude, all things considered. One second he was riding a unicorn with a Nicholas Cage face and human feet for hooves, and the next he was lying on his back, feeling like a steamroller had pushed him down three flights of stairs and then mashed his nose into a fine paste.
His head was in Logan's lap, which was kind of nice. Also super weird, given that this was turning into a regular occurrence at this point, which didn't make any sense at all.
"Good morning," he said, though it came out more like Grmmrghn. Oh well, he tried. Logan clearly heard him, because his breathing hitched, his hand coming down to touch Wade's forehead.
No, wait a second. Logan was stroking Wade's head. On a scale from one to what the fuck, this was a solid 'statistically unlikely'.
"You awake?" Logan asked, and Wade groaned, trying to stretch but quickly realizing that his body wasn't currently online. Maybe he'd been returned to baseline conditions and his move sets were still updating.
"What happened?" Wade asked, somehow managing to make it sound like actual words this time. Logan's hand was still cupping the back of his head, though it had stopped moving. A crying shame on every account.
"A tree dropped onto your side of the tent when you were asleep. Snapped your spine. Again."
Wade blinked. "Okay." What else could he say, really? That was a rhetorical question, Wade could literally always saysomething, it was the closest thing he had to a real talent. “So how long until I become a real boy again? Am I still leaking spinal fluid?”
"You've been out for a while. Should heal up any minute now." There was a strange waver in Logan's voice, but when Wade looked up at him, Logan's face was as impassive as ever. “Stop wiggling. You'll just break your neck again.”
“Wow. Really loving the vote of confidence here.” Wade sighed and tried to make himself comfortable. Which was surprisingly easy when one couldn't feel ninety percent of their body. Especially when the one part he could feel was pillowed on cushy Wolverine thighs.
His nose snapped back into place with a sickening crack, and Wade groaned, his whole body contorting when his spine decided to do the same thing a couple seconds later, abruptly returning all feeling in his limbs. “Motherfucker! Ow ow ow ow –“
“Where does it hurt?” Logan asked, his voice edging on a growl, and Wade laughed, regretting it a second later when his ribs protested the impromptu shakedown.
“Fucking everywhere.” Wade coughed, which was infinitely worse. Black spots danced in his vision, and for a second he seriously thought that he was going to pass out – but the shock of Logan ripping Wade's suit open quickly snapped him back to awareness. “Hey, what –“
“Hold still.” Wade looked down at his body – and yeah, that was pretty gnarly, black and blue and bleeding sluggishly in some places where the tree had probably stabbed him with some pointy bits –
Snikt. His eyes snapped up to where Logan had just released his claws – and was now sticking them into his own arm, making himself bleed.
“What the fuck, peanut?” Wade shouted, but Logan didn't even look at him, just raised his arm above Wade's wounds and let his blood drip down, twisting his claws to make even more of it gush out. Wade tried to raise his hands to stop him, but all he could manage was a weak twitch of his pinkies. “What are you doing?”
“It'll help,” Logan said gruffly, staring at where he was still administering the weirdest blood transfusion of Wade's life. “Speed up the healing.”
Wade gaped at him. “Are you fucking serious? I have a healing factor, you dumbass! Give it ten minutes, I'll be right as rain!”
“Yeah, well, I can make it five minutes,” Logan snarled, glaring at him. “Shut up and let me work.”
“Marvel H. Christ, you're a lunatic.” Wade let his head drop back onto the ground, glaring at the rising sun above. “And that's saying something, coming from me.”
Logan didn't grace that with a response, just kept drip-feeding Wade more Wolverine juice until the surface wounds finally closed. To his surprise, Wade could actually feel it when the blood started working. Logan's healing factor felt different from his own – like a warm glow that spread through his veins and knitted his bones back together, no pins and needles in the aftermath. It wasn't painless by any means, but compared to his own fucked up back alley knockoff version, it was downright heavenly.
“Okay, I take it all back,” Wade sighed, wiggling his fingers and toes as his limbs finally started responding to him again. “Shoot me up with your freaky hemoglobin any time, peanut. This is great.”
Logan's hands had found their way to Wade's head again, holding him steady as if he was afraid that Wade was going to knock his spine back out of alignment. When the worst of the damage was healed, Wade reluctantly sat up, already missing the warmth of Logan's thighs underneath him but afraid to overstay his welcome. He twisted his torso, his arms, his legs, and then hopped to his feet like the spry, young man that he was. By which he meant he stood up to a cacophony of bones creaking and a pain in his lower back that was only partially relieved by forcing his spine straight.
“Ah fuck. Yep, that hit the spot.” He patted his stomach, his ass, cupped his balls for good measure to make sure all the goods were still there, and then he turned around, presenting his fully healed body to Logan with a wide grin. “Tada! Good as new!”
Logan wasn't even looking at him. He was picking up the tattered pieces of their tent and tossing them haphazardly in the trunk before slamming it shut. “Let's go,” he said curtly, and Wade lowered his arms, a little confused. He'd thought they'd been having a moment there.
Maybe it was all in his head. Wouldn't be the first time.
The X-Men did in fact meet them at the border. Namely Colossus and Ellie, who already looked bored out of her mind. Much more important though was the person they brought along with them.
“B-15!” Wade called out, waving the arm that hadn't recently been caught in a bear trap. The other one was still a bit – minced. “Good to see you! How are things with Peter?”
“Going very well, thank you,” B-15 said with a polite smile that quickly slipped off her face when Wade stepped closer. “You're cursed.”
“Oh yeah, definitely. It's an endless loop of shitty deaths. Not the most original concept, but it is a classic.” Wade grinned. “Seriously though, why are you here? Important TVA business?”
She gave him a very shrewd look. “I'm here to send you directly to the X-mansion.”
Wade blinked, surprised. “Uh. Okay?”
“Thanks for coming,” Logan said with obvious relief, and Wade turned towards him, his eyes wide.
“Wait, you called her in? I didn't even know you had her number!”
“Let's talk about this later, okay?” Logan said, his voice a little strained. He looked pretty haggard, to be honest. To be fair, so did Wade, but Logan was taking this impromptu camping trip a lot harder than Wade would have thought. “Send us back. Please.”
B-15 looked between the two of them for a second before she wordlessly raised her Tempad and opened a portal.
“What the –” someone said from the other side, right before a blue, furry head poked its way through. “What's going o– Logan?”
Logan turned towards Colossus. “You didn't tell him we were coming?”
“No, I did,” Colossus said, looking at the portal with an expression of childlike wonder. “Not so quickly though. I did not realize you had such a powerful ally.”
“Don't get used to it,” B-15 said, and Wade swooned theatrically.
“Aw! You love us! You really –“
“Watch out!” Logan shouted, barely dragging Wade out of the way in time for the border fence they were standing beside to come crashing down, barbed wire burying itself in the ground right where Wade had been just a second ago.
They all stared at the fence for a few tense seconds before Wade looked at all of them and shrugged. “Yeah. That's been happening a lot lately.”
“We're leaving. Thanks for the help,” Logan said quickly before he pushed Wade through the portal, which closed immediately behind them. Wade looked around Beast's lab, tempted to touch everything everywhere all at once, but before he could, Logan forced him into a chair and walked over to shake Hank's paw.
“Nice to meet you,” he said with an air of awkwardness, and Hank gave him an uncertain smile in return that Logan didn't so much as flinch at. God, he was so incredibly brave. Wade had to actively fight the urge to run over and hug him as Logan handed over the medallion. “We think that this is what cursed him. Can you do something about this?”
Hank gingerly took the thingamajig from him, turning it this way and that with a critical look on his face. “I'm no expert in curses,” he finally said. “But we've dealt with cursed objects before. Dr. Strange was a big help in the past. I think I can run some of the same tests as he did back then.”
“Great.” Logan's shoulders slumped, like a giant weight had just rolled off of him. “How long will that take?”
“Not long,” Hank hummed, still examining the medallion. “Theoretically, the curse should break as soon as we destroy this. At least that's how it worked the last time something like this happened. Strange said that it's the most surefire way to get rid of a curse.”
That was fantastic news. Wade had just opened his mouth to thank him in a vaguely inappropriate fashion when Logan cut him off.
“What do you mean, theoretically?” Logan growled, utterly unamused. “We're not taking a fucking gamble. Can you get rid of the curse or not?”
“Hey, don't be rude, peanut. He's doing his best,” Wade said, which earned him a surprised look from Hank. “Though if this is one of those experimental things that'll end with me covered head to toe in blue hair, I'm going to send all of my future grooming bills to the X-Mansion. Just saying.”
Hank's face quickly dropped back into the more familiar expression of slight disdain that Wade was used to. Thank fuck. “That's not going to happen.”
“Phew! Dodged a bullet there. No offense, blue just really isn't my color.” Wade leaned in close with a conspiratorial wink. “Now, if you could make it red, that'd be an entirely different –“
Something sizzled near Wade's hand. He looked down, only now realizing that he'd just knocked over a suspicious looking greenish liquid that appeared to be eating its way through his pinkie finger right now.
“Whoops,” he said as Hank frantically pulled his hand away and pushed it under the chemical shower nearby before he grabbed a different bottle and poured it on top of the green stuff, which stopped the sizzling noise immediately. “Oh yeah,” Wade said in the ensuing silence. “Probably should have mentioned. I'm a walking public health hazard right now.”
“We'll be in the danger room,” Logan said curtly, grabbing Wade's arm and dragging him out of the lab. “Do all the tests you can think of first. Don't destroy the thing until you're sure it'll help.”
“What? No, come on, it couldn't hurt to try it, right?” Wade protested, trying to pull his arm out of Logan's grip, but it was no use. Logan was strong, and most definitely wouldn't be moved unless he wanted to be. Wade struggled the entire time that Logan dragged him down the corridor to no avail. “Peanut, please. I swear, if nothing else does, the suspense is going to kill me, and then where will you b–“
Wade hit the wall with an oomph, all the air knocked out of his lungs as Logan crowded him against it, both arms propped up on either side of his head.
“Stop joking about it,” Logan yelled right in his face. “It's not funny! Do you have any idea what it's like to watch you die over and over again and know that I can't do shit about it? How the fuck do you think that feels?”
Wade blinked, genuinely caught off guard. “Uh. What?”
“Twenty-six times!” Logan's eyes were very bright. And intense. And kind of concerning, actually. “I've watched you die twenty-six times, and I'm not doing it again, you hear me? So no, we're not going to take any risks, because you're going to fucking live, goddamn it.”
“Logan,” Wade said uncertainly, feeling a little like he was standing in the middle of a minefield with no way of knowing which direction was going to set off a disaster of epic proportions. “I'll always come back, you know that, right? It doesn't matter if I die.”
“It doesn't –“ Logan hung his head, taking deep, measured breaths that whistled through his teeth. Wade had no idea what to do here.
“Seriously. It only hurts for a second, and then poof! Whole new lease on life. So it's fine.”
“It's not fine.” Logan wasn't even looking at him, but the pain in his voice made Wade's stomach turn. “How can you say that?”
“Because I don't care if I die? Literally?”
Logan made a sound like a deflating balloon, his head sinking even further. Shit. Wade was doing something very wrong here, but before he could figure out a way to fix it, Logan surged up and – kissed him. Logan kissed him.
Jesus fucking Christ, Logan was kissing him.
It wasn't a delicate kiss either. Logan smashed his face into Wade's like he had something to prove, or like he wouldn't be entirely convinced that Wade was real unless he got a taste of his molars. It was over within seconds, abrupt enough that Wade's head didn't stop reeling in time for him to actually reciprocate in any way.
“I fucking care,” Logan rasped against Wade's lips, sounding like something inside him was rending painfully in two. Wade could unfortunately relate, because hearing Logan's voice like that felt like a knife was slowly slicing his heart into ribbons. “I care about you. I –“
“Ahem.”
Logan jumped away from him like he was on fire, whipping around towards Hank, who was standing awkwardly in the doorway to his lab, holding the medallion.
“I did some tests,” Hank said, sounding like he would rather be anywhere else. “The curse is tied directly to the object. So it'll break when it's destroyed.”
Wade couldn't tear his eyes away from Logan, his chest heaving as he tried to process what the fuck had just happened. But Logan nodded quickly, not looking anywhere near Wade as he turned on his heel and power-walked away from him.
“Do it,” Logan shouted over his shoulder. “I'll be in my room.” With that he turned the corner, leaving Wade standing there alone like a fucking idiot. Wade wanted nothing more than to run after him, but Hank put a hand on his shoulder before he managed to unstick himself from the wall, which might honestly have been the only thing holding him upright at that point.
“Come on. Let's get this over with,” Hank mumbled, and Wade let him lead the way back into the lab, feeling both utterly numb and like his brain was on fire at the same time, all of his inner voices running around in a blind panic and screaming up a fuss.
Logan had kissed him. He'd said he cared about Wade. And then he'd run away with his tail between his legs, like he couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him. What the hell was Wade supposed to make of that?
“Sit down,” Hank said kindly, and Wade dropped onto the chair without any sort of grace, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. “Right, uh. Hang on just a second. I'll smelt down the gold, that should do the trick.”
Wade barely even heard him. He was too busy recalling every single millisecond of that kiss and trying desperately to construct a narrative that explained it all without jumping to the obvious conclusion. Because there was no way that Logan was actually into Wade. It just made no sense.
And yet, as Wade thought back to how on edge Logan had been these past two days, the look in his eyes whenever Wade was resurrected in his arms, the pleas for him to hold on, the fucking blood – somehow it made perfect sense.
If Logan seriously had feelings for him... then his running away was understandable, wasn't it? There were a million and one reasons why Logan might not have wanted Wade to know about this. But if Wade started speculating about them, he was probably just going to drive himself even more insane.
He needed to talk to Logan.
“Alright, that should be it,” Hank said, heading back over to Wade with an awkward smile. “If you, uh – experience any –“
“Yeah, yeah, I'll let you know if I catch a case of the deads anytime soon,” Wade said brusquely, jumping up out of the chair. “Thanks for the help. I'll –“
“Yep, go right ahead.”
Wade practically sprinted out of the lab, heading up to the first floor and wondering who exactly he'd have to threaten with violence to find out where Logan's office was – but Logan was standing in the hallway with Storm and Rogue, looking extremely uncomfortable in a way that didn't bode well for anyone.
Luckily, Wade could fix that.
“Peanut!” he shouted, running towards them while waving his arms frantically. “Red alert! Mary got into Al's stash, and now she's foaming at the mouth! We need to get her to a vet!”
Logan whipped around towards him, eyes wide and panicked for a second before he visibly schooled his expression. “What about the curse?”
“Curse is gone, it's all good, come on, we need to hurry!” Wade grabbed Logan by the arm and started dragging him out of the mansion, waving at the other two over his shoulder. “Sorry, ladies! We've got some daddying to do!”
By some miracle, Logan didn't shake him off the second they cleared the front door and started running across the yard. Wade dragged Logan all the way to the spot beyond the gate where they'd parked Logan's bike when they first got here, before – everything. Then he stopped, catching his breath as he turned to face Logan, feeling vaguely like he was setting his head down on the edge of a chopping block.
Logan was already staring at him, his face unreadable. Wade was just about to open his mouth and say something when Logan asked, “Is the curse really gone?”
Wade considered lying for a second. But then he shrugged and said, “I guess we'll see. Hank thinks so.”
Logan nodded. “Good. And Mary?”
“She's fine.” Again, Logan nodded. Wade bit his lip, his stomach crawling with all of the unsaid words between them. “Listen, I –“
“We should get home,” Logan cut him off, shoving his helmet at Wade as he got on the bike, revving the engine. Wade wanted to protest, because he hated unresolved tension – but eventually he relented, climbing onto the seat behind Logan and holding on tight as Logan tore out into the dirt road at breakneck speed.
It was for the best, really. If their Conversation™ somehow ended in a huge fight, Wade would rather have it where he could cry and scream into his own pillows afterwards.
They made it home in record time – really testing the hypothesis that Wade wasn't cursed to die anymore. But if he could survive New York city traffic without getting run over or caught in a shoot-out, he was probably in the clear. Wade led the way up to their apartment, unlocking the door and smiling when Mary Puppins started barking up a storm as soon as she heard the jingling of the keys.
“Hey there, little lady!” Wade picked her up, letting her slobber all over his face to her heart's content. “Who's my good girl? Yes, you are. Yes, you are.”
Logan walked over to the couch table, picking up a piece of paper with wonky handwriting on it. “Al's out for the night.”
Great. So the stage was all set. Wade put Mary back down on the ground, steeling himself for whatever came next. “Logan –“
“I'll take the dog out,” Logan cut in, grabbing Mary and her leash and walking right back out of the apartment. “Don't wait up.”
Hah. Fat chance. “Alright,” Wade said right as the door slammed shut, leaving him all alone. Again. Which was shitty, yeah, but Wade understood where Logan was coming from.
He'd always loved to run away from his problems too. But Logan's plan had one critical flaw – Wade was one stubborn son of a bitch.
So he settled in for the long haul, grabbing three bags of chips and a twenty-four ounce mountain dew from the fridge before he put on the first Lord of the Rings. Extended edition, motherfuckers. If Logan wasn't back within the next twelve hours, Wade wasn't too proud to continue with the Hobbit trilogy right after.
Thankfully, he didn't have to wait that long. The hobbits had barely made it to Rivendell when the door clicked open and Logan came in, looking resigned but not surprised to find Wade still waiting up for him.
Wade watched as Logan took off Mary's tiny boots, which probably meant she'd gone stomping around in some unmentionables at the park, before he set her down on the carpet. She practically stumbled towards her dog bed, tipping over and conking out almost immediately.
“I guess that's her workout for the week,” Wade said, and Logan grunted, hanging up Mary's leash, his jacket, his keys, and then just – standing there. Looking at Wade, who wordlessly raised the remote and put the film on mute. For a long moment, neither of them said anything. But just as Wade decided to break the silence, Logan beat him to it.
“I'm not sorry for kissing you.”
Wade blinked. Now that was a sentence he'd never heard before. “Okay? What –“
“So if you're expecting an apology –“ Logan faltered, then seemed to steel himself and solider on. “It's not going to happen.”
“Why would I want an apology?” Wade asked, honestly baffled, and Logan frowned.
“You don't?”
“The fuck? No.” Wade stood up, putting himself at eye level with Logan. “An explanation would be nice though.”
Logan's face stiffened with discomfort. “I don't have that either.”
“So you kissed me for no reason?” Wade pressed, taking a step towards Logan. “Because the things you said – Did you mean any of that?”
An entire three-act play of awkwardness passed over Logan's face before he huffed. “So what if I did?”
“So what? So what?” Wade tossed his arms up. “Jesus Christ, aren't you supposed to be some kind of smooth operator? If you have feelings for me, just fucking say so. Newsflash, dipshit, I'm the surest fucking thing you could possibly go for. Or did you miss the last one billion times I practically threw myself at you?”
Logan's eyes wavered. “You do that with everyone. It's not –“
“Oh my god. Men,” Wade groaned, stomping over so he could grab Logan's face in both hands, looking him dead in the eye. “Listen up, asshole. I like you. In the words of a famous, emotionally constipated mustelid, I fucking care about you. Is that clear enough for you?” Logan stared at him with wide eyes for so long that Wade's resolve started to falter. “Look, I don't speak broody silence, so unless I just made things super fucking awkward with my unrequited feelings, could you maybe say someth–mmh!”
Wade almost fell right on his ass when Logan practically bowled him over with a fierce kiss, a strong arm looping around Wade's back to pull him in close. It was even better than their first one, now that Wade was prepared for it, and he definitely took advantage of the moment, kissing Logan back so hard that he could taste blood in his mouth. Logan moaned into it too, which was all sorts of fantastic, because it gave Wade free rein to deepen the kiss, shivering when Logan brushed his tongue along his.
It was honestly a little insane how good it felt, not just physically but on an emotional level too. Wade thought he could see fireworks popping and fizzling behind his eyelids, wedding bells ringing somewhere in the distance. But that was probably a premonition for the distant future.
When they eventually came up for air, Logan didn't miss a single fucking beat before he mashed his face against Wade's neck, mouthing at the sensitive skin there. Wade gasped, tangling one hand in Logan's hair to tug him back. “Woah, slow down there, Romeo. We haven't even finished our emotional arc yet.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Logan grumbled, still eying Wade's neck like it was a particularly juicy piece of steak, but Wade nudged his chin up until Logan looked at him.
“I know actions speak louder than words, but verbal confirmation is still nice,” Wade said, cocking his head. “So for the sake of my sanity, would you mind?”
“Are you – Jesus fuck, yes, I like you too, what are we, teenagers?” Logan sighed, but Wade still lit up like a Christmas tree, his chest exploding with joy and raining bloody chunks of hopes and dreams and rainbows all over the floor.
“Aw, you like me! You really like me!” Wade pulled Logan into a hug, a ginormous grin splitting his face. “We're going to be such a fucking power couple. Fuck Tom and Zendaya, we're the real deal, baby!”
His heart leapt into his mouth when Logan's arms wrapped around him in return, holding him close. “I don't know who that is.”
“Bonnie and Clyde. Harry and Sally. Jack and –“
“Yeah, okay, I get the gist, bub.” Logan pressed a kiss just behind Wade's ear, which sent the butterflies in Wade's stomach into a frenzy. “Just promise me no more dying. Please.”
“That really messed you up, huh?” Wade asked, his voice softening with sympathy. “I'm sorry. I'll be more careful from now on.”
“Thank you.” The honest relief in Logan's voice made Wade feel equal parts guilty and touched. Logan actually fucking cared about him, for realsies. Wade was probably going to need a moment or ten to digest that. “Listen, I...” Logan swallowed hard before he continued, “I can't promise you anything. Not right now. But I want to try.” Logan's hands clenched on Wade's back, holding him even tighter, as if he was afraid that Wade was going to disappear if he let go. “I really want to try.”
Jesus Christ. Wade was actually going to cry if Logan kept talking like that. Like he was serious about them. Like he was willing to trust Wade.
That was more than any Deadpool in the multiverse could ask for.
“Don't worry, peanut,” Wade said before he cupped Logan's cheek and guided him into another kiss. “We'll take it one day at a time.”