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Of all the ways Wade Wilson pictured his life, somehow this wasn't his dream scenario: living with Blind Al while he made plans for revenge.
He told himself he only stayed for two reasons: one, Al couldn't tell how fucked up he looked (and everybody else could), and two, she needed him around because she was blind.
“Wade, pass me the phone,” Al requested from her seat beside him on the sofa. “I need to tell the landlord the rent'll be late.”
“What's his number? I'll dial for you,” Wade offered.
Al huffed. “I don't need you to dial for me. I need you to pass me the damn phone, motherfucker.”
“Jesus Christ,” Wade complained. “Alright. Just trying to help.”
“I don't need your help,” Al said with an air of ebbing patience. “I managed to dress myself, make a living, and pay the bills before your dumb ass came along. Phone, Wade.”
“Fine,” Wade grumbled, handing it to her.
Watching Al press those buttons was slow as hell and he itched with the need to help, but she managed just fine. So maybe she didn't exactly need his help with that one thing, but she did need him… right?