Ghosts of the Past

The cabin's fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the room. Exhausted from the day's training, Jade sat cross-legged on the floor, his claws retracted but his mind restless. Across from him, Logan and Deadpool sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Jade glanced at them, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. "You've both been through... things. Stuff I can't even imagine. How did you deal with it? How did you become... this?"

Logan exhaled, his gaze fixed on the fire. "Kid, my past isn't the kind of bedtime story you wanna hear."

Deadpool, however, leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet onto the table. "Oh, oh! Storytime! Let me guess—Logan's gonna growl about wars, tragedy, and heartbreak while I regale you with tales of tacos, chimichangas, and bad life choices. Spoiler alert: they're all connected."

Logan shot him a glare. "Not the time, Wade."

"Fine, fine," Deadpool muttered, twirling one of his katanas. "You go first, old man."

---

Logan's Story

Logan stared into the fire for a long moment before speaking. "I've been alive a long time. Too long. Fought in wars I barely remember. Watched friends die. Lost everything more times than I can count."

He flexed his hands, the firelight catching the faint scars where his claws emerged. "I wasn't born like this. The claws, the metal—they were forced on me. Experimented on, tortured. I was turned into a weapon before I even knew what it meant to be human."

Jade's brow furrowed. "But you escaped, right? You broke free."

Logan nodded slowly. "Yeah, but freedom doesn't mean peace. It just means you're on your own. I've been running ever since, trying to make up for the things I've done."

There was a pause before Logan added, his voice softer, "When you've lived as long as I have, you learn the hard way that power comes at a cost. You can't undo the past, but you can try to make the future less of a nightmare."

Deadpool clapped sarcastically. "Wow, Logan. That was... dark. Ten out of ten for the brooding antihero vibes."

Logan growled. "Your turn, Wade."

---

Deadpool's Story

Deadpool leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Okay, kid, buckle up. My life? Not as glamorous as it seems. Before I was this gorgeous, indestructible specimen, I was just a regular guy named Wade Wilson. A mercenary, sure, but I wasn't completely rotten. Mostly."

He gestured dramatically. "Then one day, I got cancer. The bad kind. All over. No hope, no cure. But then some shady government types offered me a deal—an experimental treatment that could save my life and give me powers. Naturally, I said, 'Sign me up!'"

Jade tilted his head. "And it worked?"

Deadpool chuckled darkly. "Oh, it worked, alright. They cured my cancer by making me basically unkillable. But they didn't bother to mention the side effects—like turning my face into a melted quesadilla."

He gestured to his mask. "Now I look like this underneath, but hey, I can't die, so... silver linings?"

Jade frowned. "But why do you... act the way you do?"

Deadpool's tone shifted, a rare note of sincerity creeping in. "Because if I don't laugh, I'll cry. And if I start crying... well, I'm not sure I'd ever stop."

The room fell silent. Even Logan seemed taken aback by Deadpool's honesty.

---

Jade's Response

Jade looked between them, his voice steady. "You've both been through hell. And somehow, you're still here. That's what matters, right? You didn't let it break you."

Logan gave a small nod. "You're tougher than you look, kid. If you stick with us, you'll need to be."

Deadpool grinned, his usual bravado returning. "Stick with us, and you'll also get a crash course in awesomeness. And tacos. Lots of tacos."

Jade allowed himself a small smile. Despite the weight of their stories, there was something comforting about their camaraderie. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel alone.

---

Meanwhile...

In Sinister's lab, the villain watched the trio on a surveillance feed, his expression unreadable.

"They grow closer," he mused. "Good. Their bonds will make the betrayal all the more satisfying."

A scientist approached, holding a datapad. "Sir, the Reavers are prepared for the next strike. And we've developed a countermeasure for the boy's abilities."

Sinister's smile widened, cruel and calculating. "Excellent. Let them believe they're safe. Let them train, bond, grow stronger. And when the time is right... we'll tear them apart...