Chapter Text
Four weeks. That’s how long it had been since Logan and Wade found a proper place to live. Wade had gifted him a calendar with a different picture of a cat for every month to put in his bedroom. Logan was now staring at it hung up on his wall, a painfully cute kitten staring back at him.
Empty bottles of whatever cheap liquor he could get his hands on littered the floor. The sheets on his bed were barely clinging to the corners of his mattress and the one blanket he used to sleep lay on the floor near the foot of his bed in a pile. He sat with his elbows on his knees, hands holding up his face as he counted the days over and over. It had only been four weeks, but it felt like months had passed. Months that he wasted away doing nothing for the one man who was willing to give him a second chance. All he wanted was to be useful and he managed to fuck that up too.
A knock at the door broke his focus, but he didn’t move to answer it.
“Logan? Are you still rotting away in there?” The familiar voice of his now roommate, Wade Wilson, came from the other side.
“So what if I am?” He replied flatly. Every time they spoke, he felt more and more like a piece of trash. He knew Wade wasn’t perfect, but he had a family, which was more than Logan could say. All he wanted was to be a part of it, but the only thing he could feel when they interacted was anger. Anger that he couldn’t be better, that he couldn’t be enough.
Wade frowned from the other side of the door, unsure of what to do next. He tried and tried to get through to him, to cheer him up in some way, but he was beginning to wonder if maybe Logan simply didn’t like him.
Nonetheless, he wasn’t going to give up so easily. He mattered more than that, he wanted him more than that. “If you are, I guess that means I’ll just have to go out on a patrol by myself!” he teased, pressing an ear to the smooth wooden door.
Logan grumbled, wiping a hand down his face. “Alright fine. I’ll go with you but only so you don’t get yourself or someone else killed.” This was always an excuse, but they both knew it was nearly impossible for Deadpool to get killed, and most of the time killing someone else was part of the job. Regardless, he picked himself up and kicked through the empty bottles on the floor. His hand rested on the doorknob but he paused for a moment. ‘It’s just a simple patrol, you can’t fuck this up.’ He thought to himself. ‘All you have to do is help.’
The door swung open, a disheveled Logan looking back at him from inside his room. He couldn’t tell if there were more bottles than the last time he was able to peak inside but he could definitely tell that the bags under his eyes looked darker. “You gonna suit up? You know, I think yellow brings out your eyes.” He grinned, jabbing a finger into his chest.
In response, the other man rolled his eyes, wordlessly snatching a leather jacket that hung on the wall near his door. “That suit was a one time deal. Stop asking.” He muttered as he shouldered the jacket on. “Let’s go.” He pushed passed him, avoiding eye contact as much as he could manage. Why was Wade like this? Always messing with him by complimenting him like that. It was bizarre.
The cheeky smile he had plastered on his face slowly disappeared as Logan’s footsteps faded behind him. He heard the front door open and firmly shut. He let out a long sigh, his posture deflating. “What am I doing wrong?” He said under his breath, shaking his head. Before he left he took a quick glance into Logan’s room, not wanting to pry, but unable to resist his curiosity. The state it was in made his chest tight, why was he choosing this for himself? Was he really this miserable living in the same place as him? Before his thoughts could spiral he gently closed the door, deciding it was better that he didn’t keep Logan waiting.