"We have to go," Logan announced briskly after he end the calls. he'd spotted movement in the far trees. He wasn't sure how, but they had been found. They needed to clear out before there was any chance of the troops destroying the house. Or worse, before the troops caught them.
Pyro jumped, nearly dropping the matches he was fidgeting with. "What? Why?"
"Why?" Jubilee echoed, her voice full of confusion.
"Dad, what's wrong?" Ken asked, his wide eyes darting from Logan to Wade, sensing the tension building in the air.
"We've been found," Wade is the one who answered, it seems he also spotted the movement. He's now standing beside Logan, narrowed his eyes toward the trees. He turned toward the others, his face uncharacteristically serious. "Follow my lead and Pops'."
Logan didn't wait for further questions. "Move." He pushed past the teens, leading them toward the front door as they dumbly stared after him, still processing the sudden shift. His claws popped out of his fists with a familiar snikt, the sound making Mrs. Drake yelp in surprise.
Logan stepped onto the porch, eyes locking with the police officers as their guns instantly trained on him. Great. This was just what they needed. Three squad cars, six officers, seems more are coming over and every single one of them looked ready to shoot first and ask questions later. Well, except for the woman on the left—she at least looked like she was considering not blowing his brains out.
"Fantastic," Logan muttered under his breath. They were too late. At least it wasn't Stryker's troops. Small victories he guess.
One of the officers, a younger man with wide eyes and a trembling hand, jumped out from the side of the squad car, his voice cracking as he shouted, "Drop the knives and put your hands in the air!"
Logan's claws glinted in the light as he turned his gaze toward the officer. The man was already sweating, his breath shallow and rapid, heart racing in his chest. Logan could smell the fear coming off him in waves. Great. A rookie. Just what they needed.
He shifted his eyes to the other side, where a woman stood. She was older, her face calm and composed compared to the rookie beside her. Her gun was steady, her eyes sharp, but Logan could tell—she was focused, calculating. Not exactly a better situation, but at least she wasn't about to shoot in panic.
"What the hell is all this?" Pyro demanded, stepping out from behind Logan, his eyes flashing with annoyance as he sized up the scene.
"Ronny…" Bobby hissed under his breath, realizing that his brother probably the one that call the cops. But it was too late to turn back now.
"Get back inside," Logan snapped over his shoulder. "All of you."
Pyro glared, but didn't move. "They're just cops," he muttered. "Why are we running from them? I thought we were dealing with Stryker's soldier!"
Wade rolled his eyes, nudging Pyro back. "Pyro, mate, I know this situation isn't as cinematic as you'd hoped, but those cops out there?" He pointed toward the squad cars. "They're still armed. And last time I checked, bullets hurt. A lot. Trust me."
Jubilee stepped up, her hands sparking slightly with light as she peered at the officers. "We can take them if we need to," she said, her voice unsure but defiant.
Logan clenched his jaw, glancing between the kids and the cops. They weren't going to listen. Not fully, at least. He needed to keep things under control without starting a war on the front lawn.
"Put the knives down slowly!" the rookie barked again, his voice firmer but still shaky. "Then down on your knees, cross your ankles, and raise your hands in the air. You kids do the same. Right now!"
Logan turned to the woman officer, keeping his voice as calm as possible, trying to defuse the situation. "Hey, this is just a misunderstanding." He really didn't want this to go where he knew it was about to go.
"PUT THE KNIVES DOWN!" the rookie screamed again, his voice almost cracking under the strain.
Logan glared at him, his patience officially gone. "I can't." He knew this was a gamble, but if the cops had been called to the house, then Ronny would have tipped them off that they were dealing with mutants, right? Right?
Logan thought about retracting his claws and trying to talk this out. Maybe—just maybe—they could explain things before someone pulled a trigger. Cops were supposed to protect and serve, after all.
But before he could even think about a response, he felt a gust of wind rush past him, barely perceptible.
"Wait, Wade! What are you—" Logan said as he see Wade burst past him, but it was too late. Wade had moved. Fast. Way too fast. Dammit kid.
Wade was already a blur of motion, like a whirlwind in sneakers, and the cops didn't stand a chance.
First up was the rookie. Wade darted behind him, silent as a shadow, and before the poor guy even registered what was happening, Wade's hand was on the back of his neck, a hard tap with his fingers. The cop's eyes rolled back immediately, body going limp as he collapsed to the ground, unconscious before he could even shout.
Without breaking stride, Wade zipped to the next officer, a grizzled man who barely had time to blink before Wade delivered a precise jab to a pressure point in his side. The man let out a confused grunt and slumped to the ground, gun slipping from his fingers as he fell into the waiting arms of sleep.
Two down. Four to go.
Wade moved like liquid—every step seems miscalculated but every of his movement are smooth and fast. He ducked under a hastily fired shot from one of the remaining cops, slipping around him like a ghost. His hand lashed out, fingers brushing the back of the woman's neck in that same exact spot, and—thud—down he went, crumpling to the pavement like a sack of potatoes.
By now, the last three cops had started to realize something was very, very wrong. They began shouting, fumbling for their radios, trying to call for backup, but Wade wasn't giving them a chance. He teleported in a flash of shadow and smoke, reappearing behind another officer just as she raised her gun.
With a grin, Wade caught her wrist, twisting her arm hard, throwing her off balance. "Sorry, ma'am, but guns are a no-no." He then tapped her neck, and she was out cold before her gun even hit the ground.
Two left.
Logan barely had time to react before Wade teleported again, this time reappearing in front of the final two officers. They both fired, but Wade was already moving, spinning out of the way with a graceful twist but the bullets already when through him, not that it'll do anything to him. In the same motion, he reached out, grabbed the first officer's shoulder, and delivered a hard tap to his collarbone.
"Fuck! That's hurt! Like a lot! See this is what I mean!"
The cop's eyes went wide, his body seizing for a split second before he crumpled to the ground like the others.
The last officer, the woman Logan had pegged as the calmest of the group, stood frozen, staring at Wade in stunned disbelief. Before she could even think about what to do next, Wade gave her a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry about this, but I promise, you'll wake up feeling like you just had the best nap of your life."
Then, with a quick flick of his wrist, he delivered that same hand chop to the back of her neck, and she slumped to the ground, unconscious like the rest.
And just like that. Six cops. All down. All asleep. Under a minute. And Wade hadn't even broken a sweat—though he was definitely starting to look a little pale.
Logan stared, his claws retracted slowly, as Wade wobbled on his feet, clearly exhausted from the effort.
"Yeah…" Wade muttered, his voice a little shaky, hand clutching his stomach. "I, uh, may have overestimated my teleporting stamina since yesterday. Yep! No more 'zipping or spoofing for a while." He swayed slightly but managed to stay on his feet.
Logan, eyes narrowing, took a step toward him. "Wade. What the hell did you just do?"
Wade grinned, the cocky swagger back despite the wobble. "Relax, Dad. I just gave them a little nudge into sleepy-sleep land. You know, real peaceful-like." He pointed at the unconscious cops scattered around the lawn. "No harm, no foul. They'll be back on their feet in no time. Think of it as an unscheduled nap. Cops could always use one, anyway."
Jubilee, standing nearby with wide eyes, whispered, "That… was kinda awesome."
"Yeah, I know," Wade replied, trying—and failing—to look humble. "But, you know… no big deal. Just your unfriendly neighborhood Deadpool knocking out cops with a chop." He swayed again, this time catching himself with a groan. "Though I could really use a juice box or a bourbon—whatever came first—right now…"
Logan gave him a long, hard look, torn between exasperation and mild admiration. "You good to move?"
Wade perked up slightly, nodding. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just need to not do any more teleporting for… sometimes."
Logan grunted and glanced toward the sky. The Blackbird was finally descending, its engines humming softly as it prepared to land nearby. They were cutting it close, but Wade had bought them the time they needed.
"We gotta go," Logan ordered, retracting his claws as he waved the others toward the jet. "Now."
Wade, still looking a little pale but determined as ever, scooped Ken to his shoulders. "Let's go, little dude. Time to hitch a ride in the big bird."
Ken protested but still clinging to Wade as they rushed toward the Blackbird's ramp, which had lowered with a mechanical hiss. Wade paused for just a second, casting one last look at the unconscious cops strewn across the front yard. "Wait! I forgot the pizza!!!"
"Wade!" Logan barked, already halfway up the ramp.
"Right, right. I'm coming!" Wade jogged up the ramp after the others, "Dammit, my 20 dollars wasted just like that! I got the one with the good crust too! CURSE YOU BOBBY'S LIL BRO!!!