Rock, Scissor, and METAAAAAALLLLL!!!!

Wade stirred in the armchair, the worn leather creaking softly beneath him as he shifted. The unfamiliar softness of the mattress beneath him was a jarring contrast to the hard ground he was used to. He hadn't slept in a proper bed since they arrived at the mansion yesterday. Not that he was complaining—the armchair was comfortable enough, and he wasn't exactly the bed-and-pajamas type. Plus, there was a good reason for his makeshift sleeping arrangement.

He glanced down at his hands, the remnants of his gloves barely clinging to his fingers. His little stunt with the plane yesterday had shredded them beyond repair. While he got replacement clothes, he didn't get new gloves, which made him kind of nervous around his siblings. Normally, that wouldn't be a big deal, but his powers were… unpredictable, especially when it came to touch.

(Yeah, wonder why? You didn't seem to mind much when you picked them up even with your almost destroyed gloves.)

That's because they were fully clothed with their own clothes! They're in pajamas now, and shockingly, somehow Prof X didn't have any budget for a pair of gloves for a child.

(I thought that was one of the author's plot holes!)

He didn't fully understand how his powers worked yet, but he knew enough to keep his distance. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally absorb his siblings' souls while they slept. That would be awkward. And messy. Very messy.

(Yeah, not to mention his parents would skin him alive, kill him, resurrect him again, then skin—)

We fucking get it, Bracket!

Not to mention that he didn't actually hear many of the guys he absorbed until he needed them to assist him, which was a little bit concerning and a blessing, since he was pretty sure that if he did hear them all the time, he'd definitely be really insane. Heck, he was already almost insane with these two constant voices inside him.

(Uhm, actually, you are already insane since canonically all Deadpools who have powers have ADHD and Schizophrenia, except Nicepool since he's the only mentally healthy Deadpool there is.)

We are the ones that keep the other voices at bay; most of them keep to themselves until we forc—I mean, ask them to assist you.

'Ahhh, so that's why! One of the author's even lazier writing. I should have known!'

Wade's gaze drifted across the room to the other small bundles of blankets that covered his siblings, their tiny faces still lost in dreams. His heart tugged a little at the sight. They looked so peaceful, so innocent. A sharp contrast to the chaos that usually swirled around his life. But that's why they were here, right? To give them something better, something safe.

Wade shifted, carefully pushing himself up so as not to wake them. His claws itched to spring out, a reflex he'd been fighting off ever since they got here. No need to go all Freddy Krueger on the nice sheets. Save that for later, maybe when he finally thought of a way to fight Magneto with his claws. Fuck, he really didn't want to think about that right now.

He did remember that his claws came out as bone first before being cloaked with some metal substance. Maybe he still had normal bones? Not coated yet? Maybe he could try X-raying them and train them. Maybe some light snooping around was in need in this mansion. Well, there is near infinite resource right in front his face, would be a shame to not used it.

(Hey, do you think you could hack into the Danger Room? Imagine all the fun we could have there!)

You also need to remove the tracker in the back of your head and make it seem like you're running away from the mansion. Don't forget that!

'Do you think Fire Chicken holds grudges? I kinda antagonized her already. Maybe I should try to find Hank. Nah, the now Fire Chicken actually loves kids. Maybe I could sweet-talk her and make Cyke irritated?'

Speaking of which, he actually remembered some bits here and there about his time with his parents and when he was in the labs, also running some assassination errands for that bastard Stryker. He found out that he got his father's gift because of his abuse and torture and wanted his mother's gift to come out after Stryker found out his gift came out to protect him. Well, he didn't actually know it like that since he dreamed and had nightmares about the torture and connected it with the scientist's memory he absorbed as well as the files that he skimmed when he was trying to find his siblings and run away with them.

Wade's ears picked up on the soft footsteps coming down near the door, two sets. He recognized the wild scents of Logan and the lighter, still wild but more flowery scents of Rogue. Classic Mom and Pops, sneaking up like they thought he was in bed, just like when he was a kid. They didn't know he was usually up with the sunrise—or that he'd often spent nights standing guard when they were out in the wilderness, keeping an eye out for anyone who might come looking for them.

(I still miss Lassie. We should come back for her.)

'Maybe in the future, Bracket.'

Logan and Rogue were trying to be quiet, but Wade knew them too well. He stayed silent, staring at the rise and fall of his siblings' chests, the way their small bodies curled under the blankets. He loved his siblings. He actually wanted them to grow up normal—no, the healthy way, since it was not really too late for them.

The door creaked open slowly, just enough for them to peek inside. Wade could sense their hesitation, the way they were careful not to wake the kids. But he was already awake, had been for a while, lost in thought, in memories that he wished he could erase.

Logan's eyes swept over the room, landing on the beds before finally settling on Wade. He didn't move, didn't speak, just watched as his father's expression softened, a mixture of relief and something else—something Wade wasn't sure how to name.

Rogue stepped into the room, her gaze following Logan's, a small smile tugging at her lips when she saw Wade sitting there, quiet and still. "You're up early," she whispered, her voice gentle, as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace of the moment.

Wade didn't answer right away. He kept his eyes on his siblings, taking in their innocence, the simplicity of their world compared to his own. It was a strange thing, to feel both disconnected and fiercely protective at the same time. Finally, he turned his head slightly, acknowledging their presence without fully facing them.

"They're finally safe now," Wade murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. It wasn't a question, but a statement, a confirmation of something he needed to believe.

"Yeah," Logan replied, his voice rough but soft in the stillness of the room. "They're safe now, kid."

There was a moment of silence, thick with unspoken words. Wade could feel Rogue's eyes on him, could sense the concern that radiated off of her in waves. But he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze, not right now.

"We wanted to talk to you about something," Rogue said finally, breaking the silence with a gentle tone.

Wade glanced at her, curiosity piqued. Rogue hesitated, but then Logan stepped in, his voice gruff but oddly reassuring. "We've taken jobs here. Teaching."

That caught Wade off guard. His eyebrows shot up, and he finally turned to look at them fully. "Teaching? I could understand Mom. Before all of this went down, she actually taught art. But you?" He couldn't help the slight smirk that tugged at his lips. "You've got to be kidding me."

Rogue smiled softly, while Logan just shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Not kidding. I can't still believe it myself," Logan said. "I'm teaching history."

Wade blinked, then let out a low chuckle, the sound almost foreign in the quiet room. "History? Seriously? I mean, don't get me wrong, Pops, but that's… that's just too perfect." He shook his head, a small grin on his face, trying to hold the laughter inside. "You—teaching history—when you've probably lived through half of it but can't remember a damn thing. I've seen your files, y'know?"

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "I remember enough."

Wade leaned back in his chair, still chuckling softly. "Right. Because getting your memories wiped totally makes you an expert on world events. Did they give you a refresher course or something?"

Rogue stepped in, trying to keep the conversation light. "We remember world history, our skills, common sense—things like that. The memory wipes didn't take everything. It's the personal stuff we lost. It was… rough at first, knowing so much but nothing about ourselves."

Wade's smile faltered, the weight of their words sinking in. "Huh. Relatable," he muttered. "I didn't even remember my own name until I absorbed one of the bastards who kidnapped me. He's still in my head, though faint. But it makes sense, I guess. You two did start out as assassins, spies, and soldiers, right? Did a lot of recon, undercover missions, stuff like that. A lot of brainwashing too. Maybe that's why? Wonder if my brainwash was like that too! I mean, after you guys escaped, they kinda became short-staffed on super soldiers, so I became the next best choice. I do remember some bits about doing some missions here and there, but not much, lol! I think—well, hope—I only did it after you two escaped."

Logan and Rogue exchanged horrified looks at this revelation, but before they could react, Wade quickly shifted gears, his mind racing as he realized he might have said too much. The voices in his head weren't about to let him off the hook either. FUCK.

Nice going, genius. Way to spill the beans on the whole 'child soldier' thing. Real smooth.

(OH FUCK! Quick, change the subject! Talk about… the squirrels! Or why birds aren't real! Or that time you won against Sabertooth's pet ice bear! Anything but this!)

"You did missions too? But you're still a child!" Rogue's voice cracked with horror. Logan didn't look much better either; his face actually showed horror, regret, and guilt.

"Oh, look at the time!" Wade blurted out, desperate to change the subject. "Did you know the cafeteria here has the best breakfast? Like, seriously, Michelin-star worthy. We should totally check it out. Right now. Bye bye!"

Wade brushed it off, sliding out of the armchair as quietly as possible so as not to wake the kids. He had other things to worry about now. Like how his parents actually found out about him being a child soldier and that there was still a tracker Stryker installed near the back of his skull.

(Still didn't know where that Professor got his money for that Michelin-star meals. There is no way his trust fund's that bottomless.)

Government aid for the disabled?

-

As he slipped into the hallway, Wade made sure to keep his steps light, practically gliding over the wooden floors as he headed toward the main part of the mansion. The mansion was still quiet, with most of the students and teachers still asleep, but he knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.

Wade rounded the corner toward the cafeteria, his mind more on food than on his surroundings, when he caught a scent—faint, but distinct. It was metallic, like a whiff of cold steel in the morning air. He paused, curiosity piqued. He could already guess who had the scent like metal.

As he reached the end of the hall, his question was answered in the form of a tall, blonde-haired boy stepping out of the corner, nearly colliding with him. HOLY FUCK! Wade instinctively stepped back, eyeing the kid up and down. The boy, who looked around 15, was built like a tank. With his bright blue eyes and almost bashful expression, he had that "just got out of the farm" look. The kind of guy you'd expect to be milking cows, not turning into a giant steel colossus—which, if Wade was guessing right, this kid definitely could do.

(OOWH THAT MOTHERFUCKING COLOSSUS! Non-CGI though, not comic accurate at all!)

That's his normal human state, you fucking idiot!

The kid blinked, surprised, before a wide smile spread across his face. "Izvinite, I am sorry," he said, his thick Russian accent wrapping around each word. "I did not see you either. Are you okay?"

Wade grinned and waved off the apology. "All good, big guy. No harm done. What's your name? I'm new here, just arrived yesterday, in fact!"

"Меня зовут Пётр Никола́евич Распу́тин," the boy replied, the name thick with Russian pronunciation. He extended a hand, which Wade noticed was strong but careful, like he was holding back. "But friends call me Peter. You are new, da?"

Wade shook the offered hand, noting the almost overwhelming strength in the grip, but also the restraint. "Wade. Wade Howlett. Yeah, new-ish. Just trying to figure out the lay of the land—and maybe score some breakfast while I'm at it."

And escaping the emotional conversations with our parents…

(We did kinda overshare too much with our parents and just ran away from it. Not really cool Dude!)

'I am still twelve! Fucking deal with it!'

Peter's smile widened, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Da, cafeteria iz right ahead. They haf very good food. I just finished my breakfast."

Wade gave Peter another once-over, taking in the kid's humble, almost bashful demeanor. "So, Pete, what's your story? You look like you could bench-press a bus, but you've got that whole 'aw, shucks' thing going on. You a student here?"

Peter chuckled, the sound more of a deep rumble with his accent. "Da, I am student. I come from farm in Russia, but now, I am here to learn… and to help."

"You know, Peter," he started, his tone dripping with exaggerated melancholy, "it's tough being the new guy. Feeling all alone and lonely. It's like everyone's already got their friends and routines, and I'm just here... trying to find my way."

Peter's gaze softened, his genuine kindness shining through. "But you are not alone, Wade. Eet is normal to feel zat way at first. I am new here too."

Wade perked up, seizing the chance. "Really? Well, in that case, you wouldn't mind keeping me company for breakfast, would you? I hear the food here is surprisingly good, but you know how it is—everything's better with a friend."

Peter chuckled, his Russian accent thickening. "I vould like zat. I already had breakfast, but I can join you for... what are they called? A second breakfast?"

"Exactly! Second breakfast! I knew a big guy like you would understand!" Wade grinned, relieved. "You're a lifesaver, Pete."

As they made their way to the cafeteria, Peter filled in some details about himself. "I actually only came three weeks ago. I come from Russia, where my family lives on a farm. Eet was a big adjustment to come here. Much different from farm life."

Wade nodded, finding a kindred spirit in Peter's story. "Oh, I get that. I'm from a rural area in Canada myself. We had our share of wild adventures—surviving in the wilderness, fighting off all sorts of critters. There was even this... well, it's a long story. Let's just say I had a rough start before I ended up here."

Peter's curiosity was piqued. "I relate to zat. I also had a rough start too. If you don't mind, what happened? I heard you crashed a plane yesterday."

Wade let out a dramatic sigh, weaving his tale with theatrical flair. "Ah, the plane crash. That's a story in itself. Some geeky group—totally not the X-Men, mind you—kidnapped my parents and left me with my siblings. We survived in the wilds of Canada for a while, evading all sorts of dangers. Almost got killed by my uncle's pet ice bear before we found a little plane to crash into the kidnapper's hideout. Turns out, the kidnapper's team was actually Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, and Jean Grey."

Peter's eyes widened, clearly fascinated. "Eet sounds like quite the adventure. And your parents, zey are now...?"

Wade chuckled, shaking his head. "They are okay, they're actually teaching here now. Can you believe it? My dad's teaching history, and my mom's teaching art. 'The kidnapper' actually tried to recruit them. They should've researched that my parents actually have kids, y'know. But hey, I forgive them. I mean, their team kinda leader only has one eye, so..."

Peter blinked, his innocent curiosity coming through. "Mr. Summers only has one eye? I heard zere was a story behind it."

Wade grinned mischievously. He had successfully poisoned the mind of his new friend about their stuck-up teacher; now he just needed to find the resident gossipers for his plan to work perfectly. As they finally arrived at the cafeteria and found their seats after picking the breakfast menu, Wade asked Peter again about his past.

"So, Russia, huh? And a farm kid, no less. That's pretty epic. Bet you've got some wild stories from the land of bears and vodka. I mean, Russia's gotta be bigger than Canada, right? You must've seen some serious action."

Peter's face lit up with a sheepish smile, his blue eyes glinting with a mixture of pride and modesty. "Something like zat. I am… how you say… different from others. My family, they are simple people. We lived on a farm, worked hard. But I am happy to be here now. Eet is a good place, with good people. Professor Xavier came to my farm to help me and my sister escape from some bad guys after my powers, after something bad happened to my parents and older brother."

Peter extended his arm and flexed his muscles. With a soft grunt, his skin began to shimmer, and a metallic sheen spread across his entire form. The transformation was subtle but striking—his skin took on a reflective, silvery quality, reminiscent of polished steel.

"This," Peter explained, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and humility, "is what I can do. I can turn my body into organic metal. Not just a little metal—strong, nearly indestructible. It helps me to protect others, to fight, and to work. It is quite useful, but also..."

He let the transformation fade, returning to his normal, human appearance. "It is a burden sometimes. Being different, it makes it hard to fit in, to be just… Peter."

Wade's eyes widened, genuinely impressed. "Damn, that's pretty cool. You're like a human tank, only shinier. And definitely less prone to rust. Must come in handy when things get messy."

Peter nodded, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Yes, eet is useful. And... I can also lift very heavy things and... well, withstand quite a lot. Sometimes, it feels like being in a living suit of armor."

Wade grinned, "You know, with that backstory and your powers, it's kinda like some mainstream superheroes' backstories. Strong, noble, with a humble beginning. 'Cause seriously, you've got the whole 'farm boy turned hero' vibe going on."

Peter chuckled, a light blush creeping up his cheeks. "Superhero? Eet is flattering, but I think zat is a bit of exaggeration. I just try to help, to do what is right."

Wade's grin widened, though he had a nagging feeling he might regret the joke later. "Yeah, yeah, modesty. I get it. But hey, superhero or not, you're already doing a great job here. Y'know you are already my hero with the way you're helping me, dude!"

Peter laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made Wade feel even more at ease. "I try my best. And you, Wade, what is your story? Any superpowers or is it all just plane crashes and bear fights?"

Before Wade could answer Peter, a voice cut through from his right.

"Hey, you're that new kid who made the grand entrance, right?"

Wade turned to see a 13-year-old Asian girl with short, spiky hair approaching their table. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes and a knowing smile tugging at her lips. Wade recognized her from the X-Men comics and animations, where she only had small roles and cameos in the movies—Jubilee, a.k.a. Jubilation Lee, the school's resident firecracker and, from what he'd heard, a master at keeping tabs on everyone's business.

(Talk about discriminations am I right? I love her!)

Not to mentions they always changes her actress in every X-Men movies, better hope this one didn't change her face tomorrow!

'I don't think that's how it works in a fanfics.'

"I'm Jubilee. What's this I hear about you crashing planes? Trying to escape from someone?"

"That'd be me," Wade replied, flashing a grin. "Why, what've you heard?"

Jubilee leaned in slightly, her eyes gleaming with interest. "Oh, just a little something about a plane crash. Not every day someone shows up like that. But the details are a bit fuzzy. Care to fill me in?"

Wade chuckled, sensing her hunger for the full story. "Fuzzy, huh? Well, let's clear things up. Picture this: The names is Howlett, Wade Wilson Howlett, I got stuck in the middle of nowhere in Canada with my family, surviving off the land. We're talking the full wilderness experience—bears, moose, wolves, ye knew the works. I almost got killed by my uncle's pet bear once, mind you! Then, just when things seem like they can't get any crazier, our parents disappear after a fight with my crazy uncle—ye knew, the one with the bear! Leaving us stranded in the Canadian wilderness! Fortunately, me and my siblings stumble across this small plane. Naturally, we decide it's our ticket out of there and to find our parents."

Jubilee's eyes widened slightly, her expression giving away her anticipation. "And then?"

Wade leaned back, drawing out the suspense. "Then we decide to make our grand entrance by crash-landing it right into the hideout of some seriously unprofessional kidnappers who'd taken my parents. But here's where it gets interesting—the kidnappers turn out to be Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, and Jean Grey. They were actually trying to recruit my parents as teachers, but they didn't do their homework and just picked my unconscious parents up, leaving me with my siblings and our unconscious uncle. Didn't even realize my parents had kids. They need to work on their recruitment strategy. But I don't blame them—I mean, one of them only has one eye after all, practically blind! I mean, really, depth perception is important."

Peter, who had been quietly listening, raised an eyebrow, trying to keep up. Jubilee, on the other hand, seemed to be absorbing every word like it was gold.

"Really irresponsible of them, y'know! But I can't really blame them—I don't think they got the responsibility talk from their dying uncles yet!"

"Your uncle died?" Jubilee gasped, her eyes widening with shock.

"Eh? No, he's alright. He's probably already out and running, maybe training more ice bears for revenge! You see, our family mutant powers are actually kinda similar to one another—we've got super-healing powers that make us semi-immortal, and our aging is slowed down."

"Ah, so that is your power," Peter said, finally chiming in. "My power is quite different from my siblings'. It's kinda nice to have someone with similar abilities."

Wade, deciding to give them a little more of a show, held up his hand. "Yeah, but there's a bit more to it than just that." With a dramatic pause, he slowly extended his claws, the metallic snikt echoing through the cafeteria as three razor-sharp blades slid out from between his knuckles. The sheen of the metal caught the light, drawing both Peter and Jubilee's full attention.

Peter's eyes widened in awe. "Whoa… That is incredible! Does it... does it hurt?"

Wade, never one to miss an opportunity for a bit of flair, blinked rapidly, pretending to wipe away a tear as he tried to imitate Hugh Jackman's iconic response from the movies. His voice dropped into a gruff, gravelly tone. "Every time."

Peter's expression shifted from awe to concern. "That must be very painful, Wade. I cannot imagine…"

The moment hung in the air. Wade's usual bravado faltered for a moment as the weight of the truth settled over the table. Peter's expression shifted from awe to genuine concern.

"It really hurts?" Peter asked, his voice soft, a mix of sympathy and disbelief.

Wade, caught off guard by the sincerity, let out a small sigh, retracting the claws with another snikt. "Yeah, it does. Every time." He tried to mask the admission with a grin, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "But, y'know, comes with the territory. I mean, what's a little pain when you get to look this cool, right?"

Wade paused, noticing the genuine concerned look in Peter's eyes, and then added, "No one's actually said that to me before, other than my mom to my dad, but that's their cheesy love story. One where the author cannot recreate!"

(It turned out to be another Twilight incarnated, I actually really ashamed of what he wrote in chapter 10)

He never actually fallen in love in the first sight! How the hell did he thinks he could write stuff like that! What the hell he thinks he is! Shakespear?

'He even went AWOL for like a week! I knew he got real life problems! But we actually stuck here y'know! Very unprofessional! I told you we need to find another author! Preferably good ones!'

Peter and Jubilee exchanged confused glances, clearly trying to piece together what Wade was talking about. Their expressions were a mix of bewilderment and curiosity, not entirely sure if he was joking or being serious.

Wade caught their looks and couldn't help but chuckle. "Don't worry about it, guys. Just me being me—saying things that don't make sense unless you're in my head. Which, trust me, you really don't wanna be."

Peter scratched his head, still looking a bit lost. "Uh, right. Well, if you say so…"

Wade grinned at his new friends, maybe his time in this school wouldn't be so bad after all. Beside he could keep Cyclops irritated and finally get that damn wheelchair!