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Deadpool hasn’t been right in the head since the day he was born, and ever since he became immortal he’s stopped caring.
As far as bad days go, Deadpool’s had a bad life, as cliche as it sounds.
But then he met her, watching from the roof of some nameless building with a gun to his head under the glare of the moon.
She was standing on the ledge of a roof, just a quick run and jump would be all it takes to get to her.
He watched her as she stared up at the sky, her hair flying around as the wind brushed through it.
"Trust me, baby, it’s not as satisfying as you think it’ll be.” He called out, startling her.
She swayed on the ledge and for a second he thought she would fall. But then her feet were once again firmly placed on the roof, far from the edge.
“I…I wasn’t going to…”
“I know.”
Deadpool made his way to her, jumping across the divide like a tiger cornering its prey.
He watched her scurry away, looking into her fearful eyes.
Then he sat down in front of her, crossing his legs and resting his cheek in his hand.
“So, tell me, pretty lady. What’s wrong?”
(Y/N)’s throat went dry, her eyes watering.
God this was not how this night was supposed to go. She wasn’t going to jump, really that wasn’t the plan.
She just…she just needed some time alone. Some time to look up at the stars and let the moon judge her sins.
“You misunderstood, I wasn’t going to jump. I was just looking at the moon.”
“From the ledge? Yeah, I’ve been there. Now stop lying and tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s nothing.” She insisted, curling into herself.
Deadpool didn’t move, he just watched her, waiting for her to break.
The silence stretched on, awkward and deafening to her ears.
“Shut up, she’s hurting.” Deadpool was mumbling to himself, now looking away from her and towards the edge.
You’re such an idiot, she’s not going to talk to you. And why should she? It’s not like you’re one to talk.
You should just show her what it’s like to die, she’ll see it’s not worth it.
“Deadpool?” She asked, leaning forward.
Of course, she knew who he was, his bright red spandex unmistakable.
“Wade.” He responded, reaching out and brushing her hair out of her face.
“Call me Wade. What’s your name?”
“(Y/N).”
“Why do you want to jump? You’re leaving the world too early.”
“Not like anyone would even care.”
(Y/N) couldn’t help her snort, the absurdity of her situation catching up to her.
“I would.”
It was a simple response, but it meant so much more than just two little words.
“Why?”
“Because a pretty lady like you deserves to be here, living and breathing and blessing the people around her.”
She couldn’t tell if Wade was being serious or not, so she stayed quiet, evaluating him.
“You really think I’m pretty?”
Damn, her insecurities were getting the best of her.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, perfect really. Don’t sell yourself short. If you were a prostitute you’d be worth all my money and more.”
Wade took out a wad of cash and tossed it at her. (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh, holding the thick roll of twenties.
It was watery, the tears in her eyes scrunching up her face and making her bottom lip wobble.
“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet. Tell you what, we go get some slushies and you can tell me all about why my pretty lady wants to unalive.”
His voice was high-pitched as if he was being funny. But something told (Y/N) he was completely serious.
“You don’t even know me.” She whispered, hanging her head.
“Then let's get to know each other. Come on, what do you say? We’ve just met, so don’t go somewhere I can’t follow.”
That was the faithful moment when two worlds collided, when dreams bloomed between them and the stars aligned.
He loved her, even if she couldn’t love herself.
And she loved him, even when he blew his head off.
But no matter how hard it got, she never jumped to a place Wade couldn’t follow.
She felt whole with him and hasn’t looked up at the moon from a ledge since.