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Wade remembered finding a baby bird on the ground under a tree during recess. He’d run to find his teacher, the one who would ruffle his hair and give him extra snacks, and asked what to do. She’d patted his head gently and told him that even if he put it back in its nest, the parents would smell Wade on the bird and ignore it. It would die either way. She had apologized to him, and Wade didn’t get it. Wade wasn’t the one who was going to die.
Now, Wade was mature enough to know that adults weren’t as all-knowing as they liked to pretend, but the fact that there was absolutely nothing he could do was incredibly frustrating to the young boy. He had gone back and scooped up the baby bird, who barely moved in his hand. Its skin was like tissue paper, bones like matchsticks, like if Wade breathed wrong he would hurt the tiny creature.
Wade didn’t hurt it though. Even when the bell ending recess rang, Wade stayed there on the ground, cradling the baby bird to his chest, feeling it twitch and squirm and occasionally make a strangled chirping sound. The teachers were patient at first with him, explaining that he had to come inside. It was only after they threatened to call his parents and he snapped at them, repeating some curses he’d heard at home, that they huffed and stomped back inside.
It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, but eventually the baby bird’s breathing slowed, slowed, until it stopped completely. He stared for a minute, running a finger over the tiny, fragile body in his palm. Eventually, he dug a shallow hole with his hands in the dirt and buried the baby bird. He walked home, leaving his backpack at the school, knowing that the teachers would have called and his dad would be furious when he got home. He didn’t know what else to do though.
Wade had cried the whole way home.
Wade thought of that baby bird as he held his partner’s hand. The skin was thin and pulled taut against fragile-looking bones. There was a deceptive amount of strength in those hands, Wade knew. He’d laughed only a couple years ago when his lover could still pick him up and throw him around despite being less than half his size at the time. Now, though, the hand laying on the bed felt so breakable.
This was where Wade spent most of the time these days. His baby boy slept, and Wade kept vigil. When he was awake they’d talk, eat, watch TV, read, but most of their time was spent in silence. He was just catching up on all the sleep he’d missed out on when he was young, or so Wade liked to tell himself. It felt weird to not be chatting with his lover though. It seemed like just a year ago, silence was so rare in their home.
A month ago, when things were a bit better, the love of his life had looked seriously at Wade and given him permission to move on, to live a good life without him. Wade had a whole lifetime ahead of him, multiple even, and he didn’t need to waste it. Wade hadn’t talked to him for a whole day. When he apologized later, Wade had pleaded, begged for him to never say anything like that again. Even the thought of it was too cruel for Wade to bear.
Now, Wade thought he would gladly listen to those cruel words, daggers shoved in between his ribs, just for the chance to hear his voice. There was nothing he could do, no magic spell or alien artifact that would fix things, not the way they wanted. Just like the bird, there was nothing he could do, so he did the only thing he could think of.
Wade held his hand, cradled it like the precious thing it was, and stayed. It wasn’t enough, it hadn’t been last time, but it was all he could do. He kept his vigil, and he would until the bitter end.
“Hey, Dweebpool.”
“Hey, Negs. Came along for one last hurrah, huh?” Wade smiled at her, pulling her in for a tight hug. She patted him on the back in return.
“Nah, they enlisted me to make sure you don't break anything while you're in here,” she said with a good-natured glint in her eyes. “Logan's here too.”
“Heeeey, Wolvie, my pal!” Wade crowed as Ellie stepped aside, revealing the man shadowed in the doorway. When Wade pulled him into a hug, Logan didn't reciprocate, but he also didn't stab Wade, which was a testament to their friendship.
“Look at us, both like a couple of fine aged wines that didn't age at all.”
Logan just grunted at that, and Wade grinned. Ellie gestured towards the door and they all stepped into the X-Mansion.
“There were a lot of others who wanted to be here, you know. You didn't want a crowd, though.”
“Naaah, let ‘em remember me the right way, you know. Eating pizza and making wisecracks.”
“Isn't that those ninja turtles?”
“Oof! You hurt me good, Negasonic Old Lady Warhead,” Wade laughed. Ellie elbowed him, and they all stopped short at the main foyer. “Woah, what's with the welcoming party?”
“Shit, sorry, Pool. They're supposed to be in class,” Ellie said, leveling a glare at the gathering of young mutants in the lobby. Some of them shrunk back, but most of them were still curiously watching the group. “But I guess word spread that you were gonna be here.”
“Aww, they're here for lil ‘ol me? How could I be mad at that?” Wade said, a hand on his cheek.
“Yeah, you're kinda a hero to them or whatever,” Ellie grinned. She looked down as the smile faded. “A lot of them will mourn you.”
“Mourn me? Nah, no way. Now, my baby boy’s funeral, you shoulda seen that. Enough tears to raise the sea level, tip California underwater,” Wade said, dipping his head. The grin on his face was less bright but still fond.
“I did see it,” Ellie said quietly, placing a hand on Wade's shoulder. “We all did. We would have been there if you wanted.”
“I know, Negs. That was something I needed to do by myself, though.”
The funeral had been a worldwide event, streamed live in almost every country. Thousands of people wept as their hero was lowered into the ground, but there were only a few select people there in person.
“Excuse me, Mr. Deadpool?” A young voice piped up, and Ellie sent them a real glare this time.
“Put the death glare away, it's fine. What's up, pipsqueak?”
“I know you haven't really been out in the field for a long time, but we've all heard the stories and seen videos of you fighting. You're like, unstoppable! And you're like Wolverine, right? You don't age? You could still do so much good by being out there, doing hero work, don't you think?”
Logan growled at this, taking a menacing step forward, and the kid shrunk behind one of their friends. Noticeably, many of the others were also shooting dirty looks at the loudmouth.
“Now, now,” Wade said, patting Logan's chest. “Kid, let Daddy Deadpool give ya some advice. First of all, I don't owe the world shit, and neither do you. Yeah, I did my heroing, but just because I still physically can doesn't mean I have to. That's what you little whippersnappers are for! And…”
Wade trailed off, glancing at his friends before focusing on the kid again. “And I knew pretty much as soon as I met him that I'd follow wherever he went. That's all I'm doing. When he… I mean, now that he's not here, I know it's my time. I've done plenty of good for the world and he did so much more. I'm ready to rest. That good enough for you, buckaroo?”
The kid had tears shining in their eyes, fists tightly balled as they nodded. Wade returned the nod and cleared his throat.
“Alright, shall we get this show on the road? Can't be late for my very important date.”
“Right, let's go,” Ellie said, voice a little rougher than normal. Wade very graciously didn't make fun of her for it.
Wade stepped into a random bathroom at the X-Men's mansion and locked the door, trusting that no one would bother him based on his explicit instructions. He'd told his baby boy he was visiting a friend, not to wait up for him. It wasn't technically a lie.
Hands shaking, he lifted a pistol to his head in a way he hadn't in decades. Death didn't always visit him when he died, but he knew she would come to him this time.
Wade squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the trigger.
Darkness surrounded him, harsh and oppressive, then it softened out. Darkness like welcoming hands enveloped him, cradled him, and he opened his eyes to see her sitting before him.
“It's been a while, Wade.”
“I know. I think all my frequent flyer points expired, huh?” Wade joked halfheartedly. She looked the same as she always had, beautiful. Her skull gleamed like pearl, otherworldly and terrifying, her eyes a serene lake at night.
“Ages ago, I'm afraid,” Death said dryly.
Wade felt a sharp pang. Even humor felt difficult nowadays, every joke reminding him so much of his baby boy. Without warning, Wade gracelessly fell to his knees before her, pressing his head into the cold marble with all the humility he could muster.
“Mistress Death, my lover will be with you soon. Please, I beg you, take care of him. I plan to join him, but if I can't, please take care of him. I don't know what I can give you, what I can do for you, but whatever I can–”
Wade was cut off by a hand on his head, the ridges of her bony fingers harsh but her touch gentle. He looked up, eyes blurry, at the visage of death. At a familiar face.
“Shh, Wade. I know, I have seen it.” Death straightened again, regal on her throne, and looked away. “Whenever you came to me, you brought with you so much life. Pain and emotion, blood and humor. It was always fresh and exciting. And when you took your lover, when you made an effort to stop visiting my domain as much, I can't deny that I was saddened.”
Death tilted her head in a way Wade always associated with a smile. “But I watched you two. I saw how much life you lived together, how different it was from what you would bring me. I am no longer sad, Wade. Instead, I am happy for my friend who has experienced such beautiful life.”
“Death…” Wade murmured. He shut his eyes and tears leaked out, the first tears he had allowed himself to shed in a long time. Opening his eyes, he saw a bony finger beckoning him closer, and he shuffled forward on his knees. Wade did not resist when Death placed a hand on his head and guided it to her lap.
“You have given me enough, my friend. It will be okay, for both of you,” she said, and Wade started crying in earnest.
“He deserves, he deserves to go to a good place,” Wade choked through a clenched throat. Death tilted her head once more.
“I know. He's a hero, isn't he? As are you.”
Wade pressed his face into her black robe, and wept, letting himself experience every bit of grief he'd been suppressing. He had to be brave for his lover, but here, he let himself sob like a child.
“You know how important promises are to me, and I promise you this: it will be okay. I swear it, to both of you, you will be okay.”
Tears kept pouring from his eyes, never-ending, the grief as powerful as the love he felt. And yet, surrounded by the comfort of his old friend, he felt for the first time that it would be okay.
Wade whistled as he walked into the room.
“So, this is the place? I was expecting a little more evil science lab, less swanky living room.” In fact, Wade was relatively certain it was a living room. It was a simple space, well-decorated, with a few comfy-looking chairs and a plush red couch in the middle.
“Yeah, figured you'd prefer the therapy couch to a lab bench or a hospital bed,” Ellie said, looking around the room as well.
“Ya know me too well, Ellie Belly.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Get comfy, they'll be here in a sec. By the way, is that what you're wearing?”
Wade looked down at his attire and shrugged as he sat on the couch. “Yeah? I figured the Deadpool suit worked well enough. Sans the mask, of course. That way, I'm a lil bit ‘Pool and a lil bit Wade.”
“Sappy as hell,” Ellie grinned, punching his arm lightly. “I like it.”
“Yeah, well. Thought he might like it too,” Wade said, rubbing his exposed head.
“I know he will.”
They are interrupted by a gentle knock on the door, followed by the entrance of a woman with a clipboard and two others pushing a cart. Notably, none of them are wearing lab coats or scrubs, and Wade knew he had either Ellie or Logan to thank for that.
“We meet again, Mr. Deadpool. Are you ready to begin, or would you like a few moments?”
“No time like the present, that's what ol’ Pa always said! Probably. Someone's Pa said that at least,” Wade said, sprawling out on the couch. “How do you want me, doc? Kate Winslet style?”
“Laying on your back would likely be easier, but we can work with whatever you feel most comfortable with,” the doctor said, not missing a beat at Wade's antics. They'd met a few times now, and Wade hadn't been able to get a good reaction from her since the first meeting.
“I live to please,” Wade quipped as he lay on his back, wiggling a bit to get comfy. “Now, doc, you're sure this is gonna work, right? Cause if not there's still the flamethrower thing.”
“Wade, for the last time, we're not doing your flamethrower idea. Your boo-boo would find a way to kick our asses from the great beyond if we even thought about it,” Ellie said, nose scrunched up in disgust.
Wade shrugged again. He thought it was a good idea, at least.
The doctor cleared her throat. “Mr. Deadpool, I am almost 100% certain this will work. Yes, this method was originally designed for Wolverine, but it has been modified to fit you exactly. We've been testing it for over 30 years now, and I've personally worked on it for almost 10 years.”
She paused, and a slight smile softened her sharp features. “I guarantee you, it will work. You have no need to worry.”
“Alrighty then, I'm putting my life in your hands. HA! Get it?”
“Yes, I get it. Gentlemen?” She said, gesturing to the two standing by the cart. They pull off a square device with very thin fibers emitting from the sides. Logan watched them with wariness, while Ellie locked eyes with Wade and gave him a firm nod.
“We will be placing this on your chest, so it might feel a bit heavy. Once we begin, it shouldn't take longer than a few minutes to take effect, so you can let me know when you're ready.”
“Ready as I'll ever be, doc. Oh, shit, actually. You guys, do me a favor?” Wade said, head raising to look at Ellie and Logan. “Make sure I'm buried next to him? I know it's just bodies at that point, but you know. It's romantic, or whatever.”
“We will,” Logan said gruffly. It was the first thing he'd said to Wade, but it was enough. Wade knew he'd follow through, so he closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
“Thank you, both of you. I, uh. Guess I’ll see you on the other side?”
“Yeah, we’ll throw a party when we see you,” Ellie said. Her voice sounded a bit watery, and Wade couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and look at her.
“Alright. Alright, okay, doc. Beam me up.” Wade kept his eyes squeezed shut as he listened to people shuffle around and the doctor said something too low for him to catch. He felt a slight weight on his chest, vibrating, and after a moment everything started feeling warm. Cozy, almost. Everything felt hazy, almost like he was drunk, something he hadn’t been in a long time.
Through the haze, he heard his friends speak one last time.
“Wade, I’m gonna miss you so, so fucking much, but I’ll see you again. Go get your boy, okay?”
“Rest up, Wilson. You deserve it.”
Warmth flooded his heart, spreading through his body, like he could feel every cell in his body heating up, expanding and relaxing all at once, and just when it started to feel like too much–
The absence of any bodily sensation wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to Wade, having experienced death countless times. This, though, was lasting longer than normal. Slowly, he began to feel air surrounding him, a light wind blowing through him. He floated in nothingness, untethered, for what felt like a very long time.
Suddenly, he felt a hard yank on his core, and Wade blinked open his eyes. All at once, he was in his body and in a familiar place, one he'd visited not long ago. Before him stood his old friend, her head tilted and eyes fixed on him.
“Wade,” she said, voice warm. “Welcome home, my friend.”
“So, I'm guessing it worked? For realsies this time?” Wade croaked. His body relaxed, the tight set of his shoulders slumping, not having realized he was so tense until then.
“Yes, for realsies,” Death chuckled, then turned her empty eyes to something behind Wade. “Someone has been waiting for you.”
“Wade.” The voice rang out from behind him, familiar in the most painful way. He hadn't heard that voice like that in so long, unburdened by pain and fatigue. Beautiful, bright, smiling, it sent shivers throughout Wade's body, it felt like a shock to the brain. He knew that voice better than his own.
“Baby boy,” Wade sighed like air was returning to his lungs for the first time in months, his heart beating like it wanted to escape his chest, to return to its rightful owner. He swallowed against the sobs climbing their way up his throat, blinked the tears out of his eyes, and turned around.
“Peter.”