Ah, this is the life, I think to myself as I sink deeper into this ridiculously comfy couch. Seriously, who knew the Justice League stocked their secret hideout with furniture that feels like it's hugging you back? And these sweatpants? They're like a soft, fuzzy cloud wrapped around my legs. If I close my eyes, I can almost forget the last 17 years of torture. Almost.
I mean, just a few weeks ago, my "bed" was a cold slab of concrete, and my "blanket" was...well, nothing. Now? Now I've got a bowl of popcorn the size of my head, cartoons on a screen big enough to block out my nightmares, and the sweet, sweet sound of absolutely no one trying to kill me.
Maybe this is what normal people feel like. You know, minus the incessant voices in their heads and the occasional urge to break the fourth wall. Normal is overrated, anyway.
I glance over at the swords resting against the wall. They're just there, chilling, like they're on vacation too. No need to keep them strapped to my back every second of the day. No alarms blaring, no psychotic madmen trying to make me their pet assassin. Just...peace. It's weird. Like, really weird. But weird in a good way.
"Man, what do people even do when they're not constantly fighting for their lives?" I ask the empty room, half-expecting it to answer back. Do they just...sit around and watch TV all day? Eat snacks without checking them for poison? Laugh without wondering if it'll be their last?
What do I do with this? A part of me—the part that's been conditioned to expect the worst—is waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this to all be some elaborate trick. But the couch? The couch is whispering, "Relax, Wade. This is real."
And for once, I think I might actually believe it.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
relaxing on the couch at Mount Justice, life's looking pretty sweet. I'm basking in the comfort of my new routine when Kid Flash zips by, grabbing a bottle of milk from the fridge.
He's back in a flash, ready to enjoy his milk, when I can't help myself. I call out, 'That's not milk!'
He looks at me, puzzled. "What? you mean expired??"
'kinda~'
"then you should have thrown it in trash!"
deadpool looks offended. 'what father would i be if i did that?!'
(and you call me the pervert?)
'What could I do when my arms were broken~~'
'and you literally made a sperm bank back in x men !' wade says with a dead face
________________________________________________
Alright, so here's the deal. The team was all geared up to get a mission or something. Red Tornado, the big metallic dude with all the charm of a broken wind turbine, shows up and says, "Hey, not my job to hand out missions. But hey, goof around in the cave until Batman decides to bless you with his attention."
Which, honestly, sounds like a fancy way of saying, "Go play with the kids while I figure out if I'm supposed to be a robot or human that lived in a cave for all his life"
anyway~
what should i do now~i don't have my swords, nor my launcher
and it seems like these justice freaks won't allow me to kills who i want or take revenge...should i leave this dream and go all out mercenary?
(thats kinda what daddy lex wanted you to do ~)
'naaah ~pretty sure thats a cannon event~, you can't imagine deadpool not killing or being crazy.....we all know that nicepool isn't deadpool thou..... right?'
and since when was the voices in my head.....this sane
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
(hmmmmmmmmm)
A...are you perh-.
"wa-...wade!"
I snapped back to reality, where Aqualad was calling my name. Apparently, aunt Martian had offered us a ride on her tiny flying ship. I guess the universe is playing it nice today, and I'm supposed to go along with the gang, pretending like I'm not plotting my next grand escape.
But for now, it looks like I'm sticking around. It's just too tempting to see how this superhero gig plays out. And who knows? Maybe the universe is just giving me a break before the real craziness begins~