Stryker! No Stryking!!!

The sound of rushing water echoed through the cold, industrial hallways as Logan and Wade moved swiftly through the facility. His claws were already out, slicing through the occasional door, but his mind was set on one thing—Stryker.

Beside him, Wade was unnaturally quiet, for once, a far cry from the usual stream of sarcastic banter Logan had begrudgingly grown accustomed to. Both of them were on edge, too aware of what this place represented.

Weapon X. Stryker. The old man's face had haunted Logan's nightmares for years, and now he had a chance to put an end to it.

"We're close," Logan growled, sniffing the air. Stryker's scent was faint but undeniable, like the ghost of a man he had never quite managed to kill.

But then… another scent hit him. Familiar. Dangerous. Metallic. His stomach twisted. It couldn't be.

They rounded the corner, and there he was—Stryker, standing in front of a massive tank filled with shimmering liquid adamantium. But Logan's attention shifted from him to the figure standing next to him.

Wade visibly stiffened next to him, his eyes widening beneath the mask. "Lady Deathstrike? Wait—what the actual fuck! how is she still standing? I killed her in the mansion. Like, triple-dead, no take-backs."

Logan's claws slid out with a snikt, his gaze narrowing. "I thought you said she was dead."

"Oh, trust me," Wade muttered, "she was. I made sure of it. I made sure to burn every cells of her body so she couldn't regenerated!"

Stryker's cold, smug voice interrupted their disbelief. "You didn't really think I'd put all my hopes on just one version of her, did you? The one you killed it just one of many."

"So, she basically also a discounted Jango Fett? Cih, how unoriginal! Okay, that's just smell like some bullshit that the author cook! Really butchered her character here!"

Logan's gut twisted. There's more than one? He felt like he was right back in the nightmare that was Weapon X. I hope there isn't a clone of him or for all of them sake, a clone of Wade running around here.

"Ehh, don't worry about a clone of us Dad, I made sure to destroy everything about us before I escaped. No one will clone us… Right? Author?"

Well, that's reassuring.

Before they could react, Lady Deathstrike lunged at them, her claws glinting under the facility's harsh lights. Logan barely had time to move as she went straight for Wade first, her movements quick and fluid.

"Wade, watch out!" Logan barked, already anticipating the fight that was coming.

"Goddammit! Not again!!!"

But Lady Deathstrike was faster than either of them expected. She blocked Wade's attempt to teleport, grabbing him mid-blink and tossing him across the room like he was nothing more than a ragdoll. He hit the wall with a solid thud and slid to the floor, groaning.

"Motherfucker!!!" Wade shouted as he scrambled to his feet. His eyes caught on Stryker who had started making his escape down the hall. "God fucking dammit! I'm not losing him again! I've got dibs on him!"

Logan didn't have time to worry about Wade. Lady Deathstrike's attention had shifted back to him, and now she stood still, eyeing him with cold precision. Her silence was eerie—there was nothing behind her eyes but a killer's instinct.

Logan flexed his claws, readying for what was about to happen. And then she did it.

Five claws—adamantium, just like his—slid out from each of her fingertips.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me," Logan muttered. She leaped at him, slashing across his face with expert precision. Pain flared instantly, but Logan wasn't new to this. He swiped back, their claws clashing with a sickening screech of metal on metal.

The fight was brutal. Every strike was met with one just as deadly, every slash returned. But Lady Deathstrike had the upper hand—she was faster, more precise, and utterly relentless. Well, Logan's healing factor wasn't struggling to keep up with the pace of her attacks either. As fun as it is, he need to catch up with Stryker and Wade as soon as possible. Maybe its time to test his new moves.

He then started to heat his claws.

With a growl, she grabbed him by the neck and threw him against the wall. Logan hit it hard, his breath leaving him in a rush. She was on him before he could even recover, claws poised to strike, and this time, she drove them into his gut.

Logan let out a pained snarl, but as she lifted him to strike again, he lashed out, his heated claws slicing into her abdomen. She recoiled, giving him a split-second advantage.

He took it.

Logan surged forward, driving his now hot claws into her stomach again and again. For a moment, it seemed like it was enough. Lady Deathstrike staggered back, her body trembling from the damage.

But then the wounds began to heal. Fast.

Her recovery was just as good as his. Better, even. Fuck. The hot claws is useless. So much for new moves. He really should stop listening to Wade more often.

Logan barely had time to move before she was on him again, this time lifting him and tossing him onto an iron platform hanging above the adamantium tank. His body hit the netting hard, but there was no time to catch his breath—she was already beneath him, her claws stabbing up through the net, slicing into his back, neck, anywhere she could reach.

Logan let out a strangled roar as the claws pierced him over and over again. He could feel his muscles straining to heal with each wound, but she wasn't letting up.

Think, dammit!

His claws sparked as they caught the metal of the platform. An idea flashed in his mind. He sliced through the poles holding up the platform, and with a screech of metal, it collapsed, sending him and the iron down on top of Lady Deathstrike.

The heavy platform pinned her to the ground, right by the adamantium tank. For a moment, there was silence. Logan panted, trying to get his bearings.

But it didn't last long.

Lady Deathstrike let out a guttural growl and leapt at him, claws aimed straight for his heart. Logan's eyes darted to the needles lying near the tank—filled with molten, liquefied adamantium.

Desperation fueled his next move. As she charged, Logan grabbed one of the needles and, with a grunt of effort, jammed it into her neck. The liquid metal surged through her veins.

Her eyes widened in shock, her mouth opening in a silent scream as the molten adamantium began to fill her body, destroying her from the inside out. Her healing factor couldn't keep up with the molten metal as it hardened, turning her insides into an immovable prison.

She thrashed, claws twitching in a final attempt to fight, but it was over.

Lady Deathstrike's body stiffened as the metal consumed her, leaving her frozen in place, trapped in her own skin. The tank became her tomb.

Logan staggered back, clutching his side as his body struggled to heal from the beating he had just taken. He stared down at what remained of Lady Deathstrike, his breath ragged.

It was done.

Now, to find Wade... and Stryker.

-

Cue the Mission Impossible theme, because it's Deadpool's time to shine, baby! Wade zipped through the narrow hallways of the facility, teleporting from one section to the next, faster than you could say "nostalgia bait."

And here we are, living the trope.

(Well, we never missed tho, always deliver! We peaked at the trilogy!)

Wade peeked around the corner. A couple of guards were stationed near a door should be marked "Top Secret: Definitely Not an Evil Laboratory." Something a mad scientist like Stryker would go, real subtle here.

He grinned under his mask, popping his knuckles like he was gearing up for a round of Street Fighter.

"Gentlemen!" Wade announced, teleporting right behind them. "Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior, me, The Marvel Jesus?"

The guards whipped around, but it was already too late. Wade teleported again, sweeping one's legs out from under him with his claws while stabbing the other in the gut. He then shoot them in the head to ensure their stay in the afterlife.

"Honestly, guys, have y'all not seen how my movies go? At least give me a challenge! You guys really a disappointment to your parent ah!" He dusted off his hands, stepping over the dead guards.

The door slid open, and there it was. The holy grail of evil lairs: an oversized control room filled with computers, flashing lights, and way too many unlabeled buttons.

"Why do bad guys always love buttons? It's like—oh wait. There's the big red one." Wade's eyes locked on the large, clearly important button smack dab in the middle of the console.

(PUSH IT!!!!)

Hey, focus! We need to find Stryker! Not playing with the explosion again!

(FUCK IT DUDE!!! PUSH IT!!! IT LITERALLY SCREAMING FOR US TO PUSH IT!)

'Ahh, temptation. You're evil and I hate you.'

But before he could go all Red Button Apocalypse, something else caught his attention—footsteps. Heavy ones. Wade pressed his back against the wall, his heart racing for a second. He peeked around the corner, and his eyes widened.

"Hi there, Francis!" Wade's voice rang out, cheerful as ever. "You really miss me, huh?"

Ajax unsheathed his weapon, the glint of the blade catching Wade's eye. "You're going to wish you stayed in that tube, kid."

Wade rolled his shoulders, his voice dropping to a dramatic tone. "Oh, Francis. I've got my hands full already with babysitting my siblings right now, not to mention I have family therapy to attend too! But if you wanna dance, I'll make time. Let's go."

Ajax didn't waste any time, rushing at Wade with the precision of a trained killer. Wade teleported just in time, appearing behind him.

"That's a nope!" Wade quipped, kicking him square in the back. "You really thought I'd just stand still and let you have your moment? Pfft. Amateur."

The fight was on. Ajax was relentless, but Wade was faster. Teleporting in and out, throwing punches and kicks with a flurry of sarcastic quips to match each hit.

"Seriously though," Wade panted, ducking under a swing, "did you... ngh... steal that outfit from a bargain bin? 'Cause it's really giving 'low-budget villain.' Honestly Francis, I REALLY DISSAPOINTED!"

Wade then caught the back Ajax's neck and bashing his head against the control panel, over and over again. Ugh, his ugly british mug face really started becoming worse and worse. Not that Wade will ever felt sorry for him.

"And this," Wade declared, pressing random buttons with Ajax head again, "is why you never let me near a technology."

With a loud whirring sound, alarms blared to life, and red lights began to flash across the room. Wade's eyes widened in mock surprise.

"Oops. Did I do that?"

Ajax's head snapped up, his face twisting in a sneer as he delivered a punch to Wade's gut and tried to get away from him quickly.

"Hey! That's tickles!"

"You think you're so clever, don't you? You'll never find him. He probably already gone by now!"

"Well, considering I can teleport, control shadows, and turn bad guys into headless meat puppets... yeah, I'll find him. Eventually."

He made a grand gesture, snapping at his own shadows, letting Ken and Laura finally uncloak behind him. "Oh, and did I mention? I also brought backups."

(Aww, family outing! Maybe we can grab ice cream after.)

Or decapitate someone. Either way, win-win.

Ajax cracked his knuckles, his eyes flicking between Wade and the mini-Wolverines behind him

"Ken, Laura, you know what to do! Go find our disney villain! He is late for our family therapy schedule!" Wade commanded his siblings as Ken and Laura ran pas Ajax to find Stryker, but not before clawing him in the face making him lost his balance.

"Arrrgh! Why you little—"

"Ah, ah, ah! Your fight is with me Francis! Come on! Pick someone your size, loser!!!"

Ajax charged again, but this time Wade didn't bother dragging the fight out. In one clean motion, his claws sliced through the air and, with a satisfying schwing, separated Ajax's head from his body. The head rolled across the floor, coming to rest at Wade's feet.

"Yup. That's about right."

Look at that. Should have done that earlier.

(Should we frame the head? You know, like a trophy.)

Wade gave a mock bow to the head on the floor. "Well, Francis, you've been a real pain in the ass, but I gotta say, decapitation is your best look yet. Very fitting for your name!"

Wade appeared near the helipad, and there he was—Stryker, looking far less smug than he had the last time they'd met. His siblings are torturing him right now and Wade had to give them credit: they'd done a fine job roughing him up. Stryker was bound, bruised, and bleeding like a pathetic old man he is.

(A family that tortures together stays together. Just looks at the Addams family!)

That's... actually pretty sweet. Someone did say that the best family bonding activities are torturing up your enemies together.

Stryker looked up at Wade with a mixture of fear and hatred. "Did you think... you've got me?"

"Well, seeing as how you're tied up, bleeding, and about to be tortured by children... yeah, I'd say we're ahead on points." Wade grinned down at him, twirling one of his katanas casually.

Ken and Laura stood beside him like they were ready for their big villain interrogation moment.

Wade had to admit, he was proud.

"Okay, let's make this last. Francis was super boring, I hope you didn't disappoint me, Stryker."

Stryker coughed weakly. "You... mutants... will never understand. You can't win. It's over already. Mutant are no more!"

"Oh, we don't need to win right now, that for the good guys. We are on our bad guys mode now and we just wanna have fun." Wade crouched down beside him, mockingly resting Stryker's chin on his fist. Two claws came out and startled Stryker, his eyes went wide on Wade.

Wade stood up, sighing dramatically. "You know, I'd love to keep chatting, but I'm a busy man. Plus, we've got the whole family therapy torture thing to get to." He glanced at Ken and Laura, who were practically vibrating with excitement. "Okay, kids. Let's make sure he remembers this moment before he forgets his head. First rule of torture! Only target his non-vital parts in the beginning before slowly went to his vital parts. Like this, an adult man had more bones in their hands than anywhere elses, let's start with those! So, if you crushed them first like this." Craaacckkk!

"Arrrrgggh!!!"

"You'll get the most painful and melodic scream from them! Okay, now it's your turn, have fun!"

Wade watched with a mix of satisfaction and proud as Laura started to kick Stryker in the his shoulder with her feet claw, eliciting a pained groan from the man. Ken is constantly scratching him in faces and sometimes the groin while contemplating where to make the next cut. "Where to stab, decision, decisions…"

"Remember! No vital parts before the fun parts! We didn't want our toys break so easily remember! It should be slow and painful! Slow! And Painful!"

Ken then crouched in front of Stryker, claws out, ready to stab anytime. He was dragging the blade slowly across Stryker's arm to his groin, not deep enough to cause significant damage, but enough to make him bleed and squirm in agony. Ken's eyes gleamed with the thrill of revenge, a darkness lurking beneath his usually playful exterior. "Now you know how a I felt when you tried that to me before."

Laura stood nearby, watching intently, her hand claws already unsheathed. She had nicked Stryker's cheek earlier, drawing a thin line of blood, but now she was waiting for the moment to go for something more vital. Without any warning, she stabbed his hips multiple times.

Stryker was a bloody mess—bruised, battered, and humiliated, his once powerful figure reduced to a trembling wreck on the floor near the helicopter.

"Kids, I gotta say," Wade chimed in with a twisted grin, "I'm impressed. Stryker's not gonna be winning any beauty contests after this, but hey, who needs a face when you've got... whatever it is he's got."

Stryker's breathing was ragged, his eyes wild as he looked between the three of them. His shirt was torn, and his skin was covered in cuts and bruises, each wound a message from Wade and his siblings.

Wade watched as Laura sinking her claws into Stryker's thigh, twisting them just enough to elicit a scream of pain. "Oops, did that hurt?" she asked innocently, her voice a sweet, dangerous melody.

She yanked her claws out, blood spraying onto the floor. "Good."

Wade crouched down, flicking Stryker's forehead with two fingers. "You always knew I had a thing for creative expression, right? And what's more expressive than..." He jabbed a thumb—Stryker's thumb—at Laura, who was raising her claws to add another 'artistic flourish' to Stryker's leg, "...this masterpiece we've got going on here?"

Stryker gritted his teeth, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but Wade could see the cracks forming. "My brother always used to say you were tough and dangerous, Stryker," Ken mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "But I'm starting to think you're more of a... squishy kind of guy."

Ken kicked Stryker in the ribs, sending him sprawling onto his back with a groan. He grinned at Wade, almost like he was asking for permission to keep going. Which Wade was happily giving.

"You know," Laura said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I think that finger's also starting to loose." She twisted his pinky a little more, just enough to make Stryker's scream echo through the dam.

(Oh, look at her. She's growing up so fast.)

Warms the heart, doesn't it?

"Alright, alright," Wade said, stepping forward. "Let's not ruin the fun all at once. Save some of him for me." He knelt down beside Stryker, twirling one of his katanas. "Now, here's the thing, Stryker. My sibs here? They take after our dad. Well, mostly." He looks like he nodded toward Logan, wherever he was, before leaning closer to Stryker. "But me? I take after my mom the most."

With a quick motion, Wade drove his katana into Stryker's front shoulder almost hitting his chest, pinning him to the ground. Stryker screamed again, blood pouring from the wound, but Wade just grinned. "Oops. That wasn't supposed to be fatal... yet."

Rogue and Logan arrived, breathless, Rogue's eyes immediately locking onto her children. "What in the hell are y'all doin'? I thought I told you to wait for us in the jet!"

Logan's eyes locked onto Stryker with a feral intensity, but his gaze snapped to Wade when he saw

Laura and Ken. "Wade!" he growled, his claws extending with a snikt. "Why the hell you bring them here? I told you to make them wait at the Jet!"

Rogue's expression was a mix of disbelief and anger, her Southern drawl dripping with frustration.

"What the hell were ya thinkin', bringin' your brother and sister into this mess?"

"Guys, come on," Wade scratched his head with his katana handle, giving them a sheepish smile.

"This is a healing process for us. Closure, if you will! You know, the kind of stuff they talk about in therapy. 'Let go of your past,' 'embrace your inner child,' or in our case, embrace your inner sociopath and torture your abuser."

Nothing says 'closure' like slow, torturous revenge.

(We're practically doing a family free therapy session!)

Logan clenched his fists, but instead of telling his kids to stop, he stepped closer to Stryker, two claws fully extended leaving the middle behind. He put it right below Stryker's chin. "You took everything from us. You took our lives... and for what? Talk fast!"

Rogue followed close behind him, her own eyes burning with hatred as she stared at Stryker. "You're gonna give us some answers, Stryker, and Ah suggest you start talkin' before Ah start carvin'." She crouched down in front of him, her voice low and dangerous. "Why did you take us??? My memory ain't right right now, but Ah know Ah and Logan resigned peacefully at that time! Why did you take us? What did we do to you?"

(Technically, the author did this to you, for the plot...)

The Author did that so that we and our siblings could be born.

'Why authors like to torture his own characters? Oh yeah, because the reader need to keep entertained, I kinda relate with the Deadpool from Deadpool killed Marvel Universe now'

(Ruh roh, be carefull now author!)

Rest in peace...

Stryker coughed weakly, blood dripping from his mouth as he tried to laugh. "You... You think I'm afraid of some failed experiment and their… kids? You're both just one of many failed experiments of me. That's include your kids as well!"

Wade's grin widened. "Oh, Stryker, buddy, you have no idea who you're dealing with. These aren't just some kids. These are the future nightmares you'll see in your last moments." He gave Ken and Laura a nod. "Have at it, guys."

Ken stepped forward and cut a jagged line down Stryker's chest while Laura twisted her claws into his thigh. Stryker's screams echoed in the room, but Wade only sighed contently.

Ah, sweet music. Who needs a soundtrack from famous band when you've got this?

(Is it too much to ask for some popcorn while we watch this unfold?)

Logan's jaw was clenched tight, but instead of pulling his kids back, he stepped in closer, his voice a low growl. "You took my life, my wife, my kids... You cut me open, made me into this. You sick bastard!"

Stryker's eyes flickered with a twisted satisfaction as he locked onto Logan. "You were always an animal, Logan. All I did was give you claws. You were an animal then, and you're still an animal now. Always a killer. Urghh!" He spat blood on the ground. "You think you're better than me? You're not. But you'll be always my animals, my pet and tools to do my job!"

Rogue stepped in, her eyes blazing with fury. "We ain't yours no more," she hissed. She grabbed Stryker by his collar and slammed him into the ground. "Ah'll make sure you don't die fast."

"See, I told you I take from her more!!!"

Stryker coughed, trying to maintain that sadistic smirk. "I didn't make you what you are, Rogue. You were always a killer, just like him and now them." Stryker's lips twisted into a weak smile. "You... were nothing more than a tool to be used. You think you're special? You think you're free? You only needed for your power and womb! A breeding bitch for wolverine! Hahahaahah!." He wheezed a laugh. "You're still a bitch for me to get my own super soldier army! Now or then!"

Logan's claws twitched, but he kept himself steady, his eyes narrowing. "You sick fucker! Don't you dare say anything about my family ever again! We never will be yours! Go fuck yourself!" He then pull out the middle claws, stabbing Stryker in the neck before pulling out and stab him again in the same place. Over and over again. Ah, Wade is so proud!!!

"You messed with the wrong family, Stryker." She grabbed his collar, pulling him up to face her, her claws only barely held back to stab him in the groins. "My husband. My children. You'll don't get to walk away from this. Not for me!"

Stryker grimaced, but there was still that glint in his eyes—like he was holding onto something, refusing to give them the satisfaction to kill him yet. "You think... this changed anything? You think you can escape what you are? You'll always be what you are! HAHAHAHAHA!!!"

Rogue's claws tightened around his groins, and she shook him violently. "Ah'll show ya just how wrong you are."

(Can we just cut his head off already? He's so annoying.)

For real. Like, get to the part where we chop, chop, chop his heart.

Wade stepped in front of Stryker, twirling his katana playfully. "Blah, blah, blah. We've heard this speech before. 'You were an animal, you still are, yawn, whatever.' We're done with your monologues, Strikes. And, spoiler alert—you're not getting out of this one."

Ken stepped back, his claws dripping blood. "He's weak now. He won't last much longer."

Wade glanced at Logan and Rogue. "So, you two wanna do the honors? Or should I?"

Stryker coughed, blood bubbling from his lips as he smirked. "You'll never change, Wolverine. People like you... you're born killers. You're just an animal with claws."

Logan knelt beside Stryker, his face inches from the man who had haunted his past. "You think you know who I am? I'm not your weapon anymore. You are wrong, I've changed... But not for you."

Logan's claws shot out again with a snikt, and in one fluid motion, he sliced across Stryker's throat.

Blood sprayed from the wound, and Stryker's smile faltered as he clutched at his neck, gurgling.

But before he could collapse, Rogue took a step forward and kicked him in the ribs, sending him sprawling onto the floor. She loomed over him, watching with cold eyes as the life drained from his body. "He deserved worse than this," she muttered.

Wade whistled, impressed. "Well, that was... educational. And honestly, therapeutic. Anyone else feel better?"

I'd feel better if we'd made him suffer longer.

(Yeah, that was too quick. But, it still a free family therapy session!)

Wade grinned as he sheathed his katana. "Well, kiddos, looks like family tortu—therapy's session over. A+ for the effort." He patted Ken and Laura on the back. "And a solid B+ for the execution. We'll work on making it more... dramatic and more gore next time."

They walked out, leaving Stryker's lifeless body behind, and the dam alarms blared in the distance, signaling the impending flood. Wade glanced over at Logan, who was brooding as usual. "So... tacos? I feel like we deserve tacos after that."

Logan retracted his claws and turned to Wade, finally letting out a long breath. "Let's get outta here."

Rogue didn't even look back at Stryker as she turned to leave with Logan, her face unreadable but her posture rigid with lingering anger.

"I could use some Tacos," Ken finally said to Wade as he follows their parent to the jet with Laura.

Wade grinned and follows them while putting both of his arm into Ken and Laura shoulder. "Taco Bell it is."