Four days into his new life at the Xavier Mansion, Wade still hadn't settled in the way everyone expected. Sure, he'd befriended Peter and Jubilee—if you could call it that. Classes were... tolerable, but Wade mostly tuned out, preferring to exchange goss—uh, information—with Jubilee or plot pranks. And when it came to emotional talks with his parents? Yeah, he was still dodging those like the plague.
(To think we could finally, FINALLY get that damn wheelchair if not for Cyke always trying to get in our way!)
Well, we did managed to convince almost everyone at school that Cyclops had only one eye and that's why he always cranky—because his other eye's shoved up his ass.
Wade grinned, 'You know it really hilarious seeing younger kid looking at him funny! Totally worth it!'.
When he wasn't causing trouble, Wade spent a lot of time with Ken and Laura, making sure they were okay. They were tough, no doubt about it, but Wade knew deep down that he wasn't just doing it for them. He couldn't bring himself to let them sleep on their own yet. Or maybe... it was that he couldn't be alone. The idea of being by himself, especially at night, made his skin crawl. He didn't want to admit it, but maybe he needed that emotional talk with his parents more than he let on.
Because the nightmares had started again.
The first one hit back when they were in the wilderness. Thankfully, Ken and Laura had bundled up with the wolves that night, not with him. His claws had extended automatically, a response that was becoming all too familiar. But tonight? Tonight's nightmare was brutal in its intensity, leaving him shaken to his core. This time, he'd instinctively grabbed his katana too, clutching it like a lifeline as he relived the horror.
In the nightmare, he was back in the lab, helpless as Stryker's men manipulated his body like a puppet, forcing him to do unspeakable things. He watched, unable to stop himself, as his own hands, his own claws, did the unthinkable. He could feel the cold steel of his katana in his hand, but it did nothing to ease the fear, the helplessness. The worst part was the feeling of being trapped in his own body, powerless to resist.
When Wade finally jolted awake, his heart was pounding, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His claws were out, and his katana was gripped tightly in his hand. He glanced over at Ken and Laura, still sleeping peacefully. Relief washed over him—they hadn't seen him like this.
He took a deep breath, retracting his claws and placing the katana back where it belonged. But sleep wasn't an option now. The remnants of the nightmare clung to him, refusing to let go. He needed to get out, to clear his head.
(Finally! Are we going to the 'not-so-secret lair' of the X-Men?)
You know it kinda bother me that they tried the hide out but not that they are X-Men to the students. To think not one student actually knew where the actual entrance! They really pick the goodies-two-shoes in this school!
Wade couldn't help but smirk as he slung his katana over his back. He slipped out of the room, careful not to wake Ken or Laura.
The mansion was eerily quiet at this hour, the only sound the soft hum of the students and teacher breathing when they are asleep. As Wade made his way through the halls, his mind buzzed with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. The X-Men were practically legends, and here he was, finally living with them, maybe finally getting accepted too? But with his Deadpool luck, he probably not gonna last that long. Maybe he could try talk about making the X-Force with his dad?
(Ohh! That'll be really fun! Do it! X-Force way cooler!)
Maybe after we did the emotional talk since they didn't really had the best reactions when knowing we possibly had killed people before.
'Yeah, I need to get that in order too,'
He headed down to a hidden elevator that led to the basement, honestly how the hell no one stumble over this? I mean he did some hacking and snooping before accidentally found it but still. The security also was laughable, honestly—a joke even in the 90s.
(Seriously, I knew we're still in 1996, but we got The Stark in this universe! Well, they still too focused in making weapons and the Senior Stark aren't dead, yet.)
Back when the best RAM was only 64 MB and the internet was a dial-up nightmare, but I guess Chuck loves to be old fashioned more.
Wade pushed the door open and stepped into the costume storage room. Rows of leather suits, all dark and tactical, lined the walls. "Man, these are boring. Who designed this stuff? Where's the colour? The flair? The spandex? Horrendous! Do they actually go outside with this thing? What is this? The Matrix?"
(What would you prefer…yellow spandex?!?)
Yes actually, maybe we should make our parents comic accurate costume. Since it gonna be really difficult for them to do hand to hand combat with this.
'Well, maybe they had some spandex lying around or I could sneak up and stole some,'
Wade made a mental note to redesign the suits later—something more comic-accurate. But for now, he had another destination in mind. He moved through the room until he found the door that led to the Danger Room.
As the door slid open, Wade felt a familiar rush of adrenaline. The Danger Room was everything he'd hoped it would be—a high-tech playground where he could blow off steam and train at the same time.
"Time to crank this baby up," Wade muttered, his fingers dancing over the control panel as he hacked the danger room to have 'Impossible' difficulty and added some 'fun' scenarios.
(OHHH! CUE TRAINING MONTAGE MUSIC!)
Do you want to be dead? I mean we need a good training montage but this is just extreme dude! Are you sure you are not suicidal?
'Maybe,' Wade replied with a grin, unsheathing his katana as he let the voices banter with themselves as he fired up the Danger Room.
The holographic projectors hummed to life, creating a scene around him—a dark, dystopian cityscape, perfect for a little late-night exercise. He'd start small, he decided, easing into it. But then the challenge level cranked up, and suddenly, he was surrounded by a squad of mercenaries—realistic, too realistic, with guns and blades aimed at him.
He fought them off, but then something unexpected happened. One of the mercenaries lunged, a blade cutting through the air—no, not a blade, a laser. Holy Mother of Fucking Sith! It was a LIGHTSABER!!! Maybe he shouldn't tinker that much with the Danger Rooms. It sliced through his left arm before he could react, sending it flying across the room. fuck.
Wade gritted his teeth against the pain. Welp, this was new. He glanced at his severed arm lying a few feet away, blood pooling around it. Well, it seems that he didn't have a fully coated adamantium skeleton and could uncoated them. Well, that convenient to his causes, he could finally think how to extract the tracker in the back of his mind and planning on tricking and fighting Magneto, he just needed a few weeks top.
(I thought we got Adamantium Skeletons? Could a lightsaber cut adamantium?)
That was clearly a normal bone, you idiot! Hey let's try to reattached it first! Or could we regrow it?
With a grimace, Wade scrambled over to the arm, picking it up with his good hand. Without much hesitation, he slammed it back into place. It wasn't pretty—there was a sickening squelch as the limb reattached, blood spurting before his healing factor kicked in. But within moments, he felt it knitting back together, the nerves reconnecting, muscles fusing, bone realigning.
He took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders. "Okay, healing's good. But note to self: avoid getting chopped up. This body might be tougher than it looks, but getting chopped into pieces aren't helping in a combat fight."
With his arm reattached and his body back in fighting condition, Wade dove back into the simulation. The mercenaries didn't stand a chance. Wade fought with a reckless intensity, testing his limits, pushing himself harder. The adrenaline coursing through him was like a drug, fueling his every move.
When the last mercenary fell, Wade stood amidst the wreckage, breathing heavily but feeling more alive than ever. He looked at his reattached arm as the holographic forms of the simulations disintegrated into pixels, and the once-intense battlefield morphed back into its default, sterile look.
With a grimace, he deliberately chopped off one of his thumbs. He watched the severed digit lying on the floor while the stump began to regrow. The pain was sharp, almost blinding, but he bore it with a stoic expression. The thumb's regrowing process t was a slow, painful process—he could feel the new flesh and bone stretching out, forming a small, baby thumb in place of the severed one.
He bent down to retrieve the severed thumb from the floor, wincing at the throbbing sensation that accompanied the regrowth. He pocketed the severed thumb, feeling a mix of satisfaction and discomfort as the new thumb continued to grow back.
(Eww, gross, but I guess our healing factor is more like Deadpool than Wolverine now?)
I guess this just another unexplainable plot-holes that the Author trying to cook up, still didn't made senses to me.
'Well, it made my life a lot easier and we could actually try to get near Magneto now. So, I couldn't really complain that much.'
Wade moved over to the control panel, quickly setting up the next scenario, not ready to stop yet. The room shifted around him, and he dove back into training, pushing himself harder with each round. It wasn't until the first light of dawn crept through the mansion that he finally called it quits, slipping quietly back into the room he shared with his siblings, careful not to wake them.
-
Two weeks later...
Logan woke in the dead of night, his instincts honed from years of battle kicking in as he sensed something was off. He glanced around the room and noticed the small bundle that was Wade's makeshift bed was empty. The boy had been sleeping peacefully just a few hours earlier, but now, his bed was cold and untouched.
Logan's instincts kicked in, and he followed Wade's scent through the winding corridors, a sense of unease gnawing at him. Since Wade had arrived, the kid had been a whirlwind—energetic, chaotic, and constantly in trouble. But lately, something felt different from him. The awkward conversations they'd had a few weeks ago still lingered in Logan's mind, especially when he recalled the haunted look in Wade's eyes. It was a shadow that spoke of nightmares and memories too dark for a child to bear—a look Logan had seen too many times in his own reflection. He tried to talk with his son of course, but somehow Wade always know how to change the subject every time and have excuses ready.
He followed the scent down to the basement levels, where the mansion's training facilities were located. As he neared the Danger Room, the faint sounds of combat reached his ears. He finally stopped outside the door to the Danger Room, the heavy metal door slightly ajar. Logan's brow furrowed in confusion. They hadn't told Wade about the X-Men, about their other life outside of being just his parents, teachers, and the secret basement place. How did he know about this place?
Quietly, Logan's hand hovering over the control panel, when he noticed that the room was already active. Logan pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was lit in a soft blue hue, the walls displaying various holographic landscapes. In the center, Wade was moving with a fluidity that took Logan's breath away. His son was a blur of motion—leaping, dodging, and attacking with a mix of claws, guns—where the fuck he got the fucking guns? —, and swords. It was a chaotic dance, blending deadly precision with a wild, almost suicidal fighting styles.
Logan watched, mesmerized and horrified at the same time. The way Wade fought was unlike anything he had seen before. It was as if Wade didn't care about his own safety, throwing himself into the fight with reckless courage, almost daring his opponents to land a hit. But beneath that chaos, there was a lethal efficiency. Every move was calculated, every strike designed to maximize damage, and to kill.
"What the hell did they do to you, kid?" Logan whispered to himself, his heart heavy with sorrow and anger watching how his son fought.
-
"For the hundredth times! I am not suicidal! I just had to get out of that nightmare somehow!" Wade's voice echoed, seemingly talking to himself.
"That's fine! Chucks would never do that to young mutants! Well, even if he did, it's still a win for me because I could finally prove he's not so noble! I wonder if there's a Legion somewhere in here…"
"Nah, it's fine! Pops understand! Probably, beside I'm just letting off some steam, no harm done! It's Cyke who's gonna explode because we did crank up the difficulties a little bit! But we've been doing it since we arrived here, and they didn't even notice! Honestly, for a secret hero organization, their security's really lax. It's a wonder why no younger student accidentally stumbled in here, LOL. Eh,"
Wade finished off the last of the holographic enemies, panting as he wiped the sweat from his brow. With a mischievous grin, he turned around and looked straight into his dad's face. "Welp, guess we're caught now! Enjoying the show, Pops?" he quipped, clearly unfazed by Logan's presence.
"You have good forms, but really bad fighting style, but I guess with our healing factor it is not needed." Logan replied, stepping forward. "Why aren't you in bed?"
Wade shrugged, trying to play it off. "Just needed to blow off some steam. Had a nightmare, didn't want to wake the others."
Logan's gaze softened, seeing the vulnerability in Wade's eyes. "You didn't have to sneak off to do this. You could've come to me or your mom."
Wade looked away, his bravado slipping. "I didn't want to… worry you guys. I can handle it. I also didn't want to get pitied."
Logan sighed, stepping closer. "What they did to you, Wade, it ain't right. You don't have to keep fighting like this. You got us now. You could still be a child not a soldier or assassin anymore."
Wade's grin faltered, revealing the pain beneath. "Yeah, Sure. But that doesn't mean I can just forget what I learned. Or what I am."
"You're not a weapon, Wade. You're my son. A child. I am sorry that we are not really there when you needed us the most. From now on, you could relax again, be a kid again, just let us grown up worry about other things."
Wade's gaze softened as he looked up at Logan. "Thanks, Pops. But if I'm being honest… I don't really know how to act normal, attend classes, do what every twelve-year-old usually does."
Logan crouched down to Wade's eye level, his heart aching. "Kid, I get it. You've been through things no one should have to. And yeah, it's gonna be tough adjusting to all this—school, a normal life. Hell, I ain't exactly the poster boy for normal either."
Wade let out a small, dry chuckle. "Yeah, I guess we're both pretty screwed up, huh?"
"Maybe. But that doesn't mean we can't make something better out of it. You just gotta be you—whatever that means. And we'll figure it out together."
Wade looked up at Logan. "Yeah… I hope so, Pops. I really do."
"You won't mess it up, Wade. And even if things don't go perfectly, that's okay. We're all in this together, and we're not going anywhere. You're not alone in this."
Wade nodded slowly, the fear in his eyes giving way to a flicker of hope. "Alright… I'll try. No promises, though. I might still blow something up or try to steal the professor's chair again."
Logan chuckled, relieved to see the spark of mischief returning to Wade's eyes. "How about we blow off some steam together? Spar with me."
Wade's eyes lit up, bouncing on his heels with excitement. "Really? REALLLY? WE CAN DO THAT! OH YEAH BABY! LET'S FUCKING GO!!!"
Logan smirked, stepping back to clear a space. The Danger Room shifted into a barren wasteland, perfect for a bout. "Alright then. Show me what you've got."
Wade drew his katanas with a flourish, his energy practically vibrating. "Prepare yourself, Pops! I'm gonna make you wish you'd stayed in bed!"
Logan unsheathed his claws with a snikt, his gaze intense. "Bring it on."
Logan and Wade squared off in the barren wasteland of the Danger Room, the simulated sun beating down on them, casting long shadows across the desolate landscape. The air between them crackled with tension, a perfect setting for the intense sparring session that was about to unfold.
Wade's eyes gleamed with excitement, his grin wide as he spun his katanas effortlessly in his hands. "You ready for this, old man? I've been practicing some new moves. Gonna wipe the floor with you!"
Logan's smirk was pure confidence, his claws gleaming menacingly as they slid out with a sharp snikt. "We'll see about that, kid."
Without another word, Wade launched himself at Logan with blinding speed, his katanas flashing in a dizzying array of slashes and strikes. Logan met him head-on, parrying the blows with his claws, each impact sending sparks flying. The sound of metal against metal rang out like gunfire, echoing through the empty wasteland.
Wade's movements were erratic and unpredictable, his wild style keeping Logan on the defensive. He was everywhere at once, flipping and twisting in mid-air, his strikes coming from impossible angles. But Logan was unyielding, his years of experience and raw strength allowing him to counter each of Wade's frenzied attacks with calculated precision.
"You've gotten faster," Logan growled between blows, impressed by the boy's agility.
"Damn right!" Wade shot back, his voice brimming with the thrill of the fight. "I'm like a ninja, but way cooler! BELIEVE IT-ttebayo!!!" He suddenly leaped into the air, executing a mid-air spin that sent both his katanas arcing toward Logan's head.
Logan anticipated the move and countered with a powerful swipe of his claws, forcing Wade to backflip away. Wade landed lightly on his feet, but his movements were more cautious now. The two circled each other, their eyes locked in a fierce challenge.
Wade grinned, darting toward a rock formation to use it for a high-flying attack. He launched himself into the air, aiming to come down on Logan with both katanas. Logan's claws were ready, and with a swift, decisive motion, he slashed out, striking one of Wade's katanas and sending it flying from his grip.
Wade's eyes widened in surprise as the katana spun through the air, skidding across the ground several feet away. "Whoa, hey!" he exclaimed, momentarily off-balance.
Logan seized the opportunity, advancing with a quick swipe that knocked the other katana from Wade's hand. The weapon tumbled away, and Wade was left with nothing but his bare hands.
Wade's grin widened, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "Guess I'll have to improvise!" He drew his hands up, revealing his own claws with a dramatic flourish. The claws extended with a sharp snikt, matching Logan's own, but with the middle claw longer than the other.
Wade then launched himself at Logan with inhuman speed. The two of them clashed in a whirlwind of movement. Wade's claws, though not as refined as Logan's, were quick and deadly. He struck with wild precision, his attacks a blur of flashing steel.
Logan countered with controlled power, parrying Wade's strikes with skillful deflections. The Danger Room's environment shifted, adding hazards like bursts of fire and crumbling debris, making the fight even more intense.
Wade used his agility to his advantage, darting around and using the environment for unexpected angles of attack. He leapt onto a rocky outcrop, using it to gain the high ground. From there, he lunged down with his claws extended, aiming for Logan's back.
Logan spun around in time to deflect Wade's attack, their claws clashing with a shower of sparks. The two fighters engaged in a dynamic dance of aggression and defense, each strike and counter showcasing their skills and determination.
"Not bad, kid," Logan grunted, using his superior strength to push Wade back, his muscles straining as he forced the boy to give ground. "But you're still a bit too reckless."
Wade landed lightly on his feet, his grin undeterred. "Reckless is my middle name, Pops! You should know that by now!"
Logan couldn't help but chuckle, the sound deep and rumbling as he readied himself for the next attack. "No, your middle name is Wilson. Remember, you said I named you?"
Wade laughed, the sound loud and wild as he charged forward again, his katanas spinning in a deadly dance. "Details, details!"
Logan couldn't help but chuckle, the sound deep and rumbling. Despite everything, seeing Wade like this—alive, full of energy, and eager to fight—was a reminder of the strength the boy had. The fight continued, each of them giving their all, but it was clear that the battle was less about winning and more about the connection they shared.
Eventually, after a particularly intense exchange, both fighters stood panting, staring each other down with respect in their eyes. They stay like that until Wade legs giving up on him, he dropped down on the floor, laughing even though he lost. His claws retracted back to where they belong.
Wade wiped the sweat from his brow, still grinning. "Okay, okay, you win this round, Pops. But don't get used to it!"
Logan sheathed his claws with a satisfied nod. "You've got potential, Wade. Just keep your head on straight and remember what I said. You're more than what they made you."
Wade's grin softened into a genuine smile, one that reached his eyes. "Yeah… I know. Thanks, Dad."
Logan clapped a hand on Wade's shoulder, the two of them sharing a rare moment of quiet understanding. "C'mon, let's get outta here before someone notices we've been messing with the Danger Room settings."
Wade laughed, the sound bright and free. "Don't worry about that, I've been messing with it since I found it!"
Logan rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile as he found a new found respect and pride for his oldest kid. "Let's fucking go, kid."