The group stood outside Harley's house, its familiar façade illuminated by the warm glow of the streetlights. Harley's heart raced. It was just as he remembered—every detail down to the cracked flower pot by the door.
"This is it," Harley whispered, his voice trembling.
Deadpool tilted his head. "Wow. You grew up in this? No offense, but I was expecting more lasers and booby traps. Where's the drama?"
Ignoring him, Harley fumbled for the key hidden under the doormat—a habit his mother had insisted on, though it rarely made sense in a city like Miami. He unlocked the door, and the creak of its hinges echoed through the quiet night.
The interior was unchanged: the familiar scent of lavender air freshener, the worn but comfortable couch, and the shelves of books and knick-knacks. Harley exhaled a shaky breath, the wave of nostalgia almost overwhelming.
"This… this is my home," he murmured.
Doctor Strange stepped inside cautiously. "Be careful. Just because it looks familiar doesn't mean it is."
Logan sniffed the air. "Smells lived-in. Someone's here."
Harley froze. "What do you mean someone's here?"
As if in answer, a sound came from upstairs—a door creaking open.
"What was that?" Harley hissed, his pulse quickening.
Deadpool pulled out his katanas, spinning them theatrically. "Probably just the ghost of bad decisions past. Let's go say hi!"
"Wait!" Harley whispered, but it was too late. Deadpool had already darted up the stairs.
The group followed reluctantly, each step creaking under their weight. At the top, Deadpool paused outside a bedroom door, motioning for silence before dramatically kicking it open.
The sight that greeted them made Harley's jaw drop.
A man sat bolt upright in bed, his face a mirror image of Harley's. The man blinked, first in confusion, then in terror, as he registered the armed strangers in his room.
"What the—?" he started, his voice rising to a panicked pitch.
"Oh, no you don't!" Deadpool exclaimed, lunging forward. In one swift motion, he tackled the man and whipped out a roll of duct tape, wrapping it around his mouth and wrists before he could scream.
"Deadpool!" Harley shouted. "What are you doing?"
"Saving us from the inevitable cops!" Deadpool replied, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "You're welcome."
The bound man stared at Harley, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
"Is that… me?" Harley asked, his voice barely audible.
"Looks like it," Logan said, crossing his arms. "Guess we've got your local doppelgänger."
Doctor Strange frowned. "This complicates things. Meeting an alternate version of oneself is a dangerous precedent. It could destabilize this universe further."
Harley waved his hands frantically. "Okay, but can someone please explain how I'm here? Like, another me? In my house?"
Deadpool shrugged. "Multiverse, baby. Infinite Harleys. Infinite bad life decisions." He leaned toward the tied-up version. "But you! You look like you've got your act together. What's your secret?"
The alternate Harley, muffled by the tape, glared at him.
"Deadpool, untie him!" Harley demanded.
Deadpool raised a hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Have you met you? What if this guy screams bloody murder, calls the cops, and suddenly we're on the six o'clock news as a gang of cosplaying home invaders?"
"He has a point," Logan muttered.
Harley pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine, but at least let him breathe!"
Deadpool sighed dramatically before ripping the tape off the alternate Harley's mouth.
"OW! What the hell is going on?!" the other Harley shouted, his voice hoarse. He squirmed against the bindings, glaring at his captors.
"Calm down," Harley said, stepping forward with his hands raised. "I can explain—well, maybe not explain, but I can try."
The other Harley's eyes widened as he looked him up and down. "You're… me?"
"Yeah," Harley replied nervously. "From another universe."
Deadpool clapped his hands. "And there it is! Multiverse plot twist, delivered fresh to your doorstep."
The alternate Harley stared at him, then at Logan, Strange, and Deadpool. "Oh my God. You're Deadpool. And Wolverine. And… Doctor Strange?"
Harley nodded. "Long story, but yeah. They're real."
The alternate Harley blinked several times, then slumped back against the headboard. "This can't be happening. I need coffee."
Deadpool snorted. "Your twin needs coffee to cope. Shocker."
As the group tried to untangle the confusion, Strange's expression grew grim. "We can't stay here long. The more we interact with this world, the greater the risk of unintended consequences."
"Yeah, no offense, but I'd prefer you didn't break my universe," the alternate Harley said, glaring at them.
Harley nodded reluctantly. "We'll figure this out. I promise."
Deadpool patted the alternate Harley on the head. "Don't worry, buddy. You're in good hands. Probably."
As tension hung thick in the air, Harley couldn't shake the unsettling thought that their presence here was just the beginning of a much larger problem.