The snow crunched under their boots as Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson trudged deeper into the forest. The Canadian wilderness was as unforgiving as it was beautiful. Sam adjusted his goggles and scanned the area with his Redwing drone, its soft hum breaking the silence.
“This is the last place anyone would want to commit crimes,” Sam muttered, pulling his coat tighter around him. “Who wakes up and thinks, ‘Let’s set up a secret lab where it’s freezing 24/7’?”
“Criminals don’t usually think about heating bills,” Bucky replied, his voice dry. He carried his rifle loosely, eyes scanning the treeline. “Besides, it’s remote. Easy to hide stuff. Harder to find witnesses—or bodies.”
“That’s comforting,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes.
Before Bucky could respond, Redwing picked up a heat signature ahead. Sam frowned. “Hold up. We’ve got movement.”
The duo slowed, moving quietly through the snow-covered terrain until they reached a clearing. The first thing they noticed was the smell—metallic, sharp, and acrid. Then came the sight: a pile of scorched earth and broken trees, as if something—or someone—had carved through it with unrelenting force.
“Adamantium claw marks,” a low, gravelly voice growled from the shadows.
Both men spun around, weapons raised, as a figure stepped out of the treeline. Tall, muscular, and radiating danger, the man wore a battered leather jacket and had a cigar clamped between his teeth. His sharp, animal-like eyes sized them up.
“You must be Logan,” Bucky said, lowering his rifle slightly but keeping his metal arm tense.
“And you’re the idiots SHIELD sent to screw up my backyard,” Logan shot back. “Great. Just great.”
Sam raised his hands in mock surrender. “We’re just here to make sure the mutant faction doesn’t turn this into everyone’s backyard problem.”
Logan snorted but didn’t argue. Instead, he tilted his head toward the direction of the lab. “You’re already late. They’ve got at least half a dozen test subjects. Enhanced. Dangerous.”
“Then why are we standing around?” Bucky asked, shifting into a ready stance.
“Because,” Logan replied, sniffing the air, “we’ve got company.”
As if on cue, a bright red blur crashed into the clearing, accompanied by an explosion of snow and an overly enthusiastic voice.
“Did someone say ‘company’? Because I brought snacks!” Deadpool shouted, holding up a paper bag labeled Chimichangas. “Hi, I’m Deadpool, and I’ll be your third-wheel mercenary today. Don’t mind the swords—they’re mostly for decoration.”
Sam and Bucky exchanged a glance. “This is going to be a long day,” Sam muttered.
Logan sighed, popping his claws. “You have no idea.”
Deadpool adjusted the katanas strapped to his back and tossed the bag of chimichangas into the snow. “So, what are we hunting? Bears? Mutant bears? Mutant bears with laser eyes? Ooh, I hope it’s that last one.”
Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you even doing here, Wade?”
Deadpool gasped, feigning offense. “What am I doing here? What am I doing here? I’ll have you know I’m a very busy mercenary, balancing a jam-packed schedule of heroics, violence, and chimichangas. But today, I made time for you. You’re welcome.”
Logan growled, the sound deep and guttural. “He’s here because he doesn’t know how to mind his own damn business. Always sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
“And you love me for it,” Deadpool said, grinning beneath his mask. He turned to Sam, pointing finger guns at him. “And you must be the new Captain America! Love the wings. Big fan. Can I try them? Just once? I promise I’ll give them back... eventually.”
Sam took a deep breath, clearly regretting every decision that had led him to this moment. “No, you can’t try the wings. And if you make one more joke, I’m leaving you here.”
“That’s harsh, Cap,” Deadpool said, clutching his chest as if Sam had just stabbed him. “But fine, let’s get down to business.” He clapped his hands. “What’s the plan? Are we sneaking in? Going loud? Ooh, maybe Logan can go in first and do his ‘snikt-snikt’ thing!”
Logan’s claws gleamed in the dim light as he stepped closer to Deadpool. “Keep talking, Wade. Give me one good reason to use these on you.”
Deadpool leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Because you love me, and without me, this story gets way too serious.”
“Enough!” Sam interrupted, holding up a hand. “We don’t have time for this. There’s a lab full of mutants who need saving—or stopping—and every second we waste is another second they get stronger.”
Bucky nodded, already moving toward the treeline. “Logan, you know the area. Take point. Sam and I will cover the perimeter. And Wade... just try not to blow anything up until we need you to.”
Deadpool saluted dramatically. “Aye-aye, Sergeant Robocop!”
Logan muttered something under his breath about wishing he’d stayed home, but he motioned for the others to follow him. The group moved in relative silence, save for Deadpool occasionally humming what sounded suspiciously like the Mission Impossible theme.
As they neared the facility, the forest thinned, revealing a cold, metallic structure half-buried in the mountainside. Redwing buzzed above, feeding Sam a live feed of patrolling guards and automated turrets.
“Standard defenses,” Sam whispered. “But there’s a lot of activity inside. Whatever they’re working on, it’s big.”
Logan sniffed the air again, his expression darkening. “I smell blood. Lots of it.”
“And tacos,” Deadpool added. “Wait, no, that’s just me.”
Bucky ignored him, tightening his grip on his rifle. “Let’s move. Quietly.”
Deadpool raised his hand. “Define ‘quietly.’”
Logan growled. “I swear, if you—”
But before Logan could finish his sentence, an alarm blared from the facility. A spotlight swept the forest, locking onto their position.
Deadpool tilted his head. “Huh. I didn’t even do anything... yet.”
The sound of heavy boots and snarls echoed through the forest as a squad of enhanced mutants burst from the facility, their eyes glowing and their bodies bristling with raw power.
Sam spread his wings, taking to the air. “So much for quiet. Let’s go!”
Logan charged forward with a feral roar, claws slicing through the first wave of attackers. Bucky fired precise shots, his metal arm steady despite the chaos.
And Deadpool? Deadpool dove into the fray with an excited whoop, drawing his swords and shouting, “It’s taco time, baby!”
The battle had begun.
Sam swooped in from above, his wings slashing through the air as he plowed into the nearest mutant, sending it sprawling. “Okay, guys, focus! We’re here to stop these freaks, not to play around!”
Bucky shot a mutant advancing on Sam with his metal arm, the bullets piercing the creature’s flesh with a sickening crunch. “No promises,” Deadpool quipped, slicing through another with a swift swipe of his katana. “I mean, have you met us? ‘Focus’ is not really our strong suit.”
Logan ducked a swipe from a clawed mutant, countering with a vicious swipe of his own. “You two are making this a circus!” he snarled. “And you,” he pointed at Deadpool, “don’t even belong here.”
Deadpool shrugged. “Hey, I heard there were chimichangas. Besides, what’s life without a little chaos, right?”
Sam rolled his eyes, dodging a blast from another mutant. “Can you at least take this seriously for two seconds?”
Deadpool grinned behind his mask. “I’m serious. Seriously awesome!”
Bucky threw a punch, knocking a mutant back. “Can we just get through this without killing each other?”
Logan cut down another mutant with a snikt of his claws. “Easier said than done.”
The mutants were relentless, their bodies bulging with unnatural strength. But the team fought back, with Logan’s brute force, Sam’s precision, Bucky’s calculated shots, and Deadpool’s unpredictable antics creating a chaotic yet effective blend.
Deadpool spun, backflipping to avoid a swipe from one of the mutants. “Oh, come on! Do you guys even try to fight fair?”
“Fair?” Logan growled, hacking through another mutant. “This is war, Wade. There’s no such thing as fair.”
Bucky glanced around, his metal arm crackling with energy. “We need to find the source of all this. Let’s split up.”
“Split up?” Deadpool echoed. “Oh, no way. I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that’s a terrible idea.”
“Are you saying you don’t trust me?” Sam shot back, hovering above them with wings spread.
Deadpool threw up his hands. “Trust? Ha! I barely trust myself!”
Logan was already moving toward the lab entrance. “Stop bickering and get moving. The longer we stand here, the more they’ll know we’re coming.”
Bucky nodded. “Sam, with me. Deadpool, go with Logan. Watch his back.”
“Watch his back?” Deadpool shot back, but he trailed after Logan, grumbling.
Sam floated beside Bucky, his wings keeping them out of reach. “This is crazy. Mutants, Deadpool, Logan... who thought our team would ever look like this?”
Bucky didn’t have an answer, focusing instead on their immediate mission. “Focus on the task, Sam. We’ve got bigger problems.”
The inside of the lab was a nightmare—a maze of cages, tanks, and metallic contraptions humming with energy. Mutants were housed in makeshift cells, some barely coherent, others snarling in rage. “What the hell are they doing in here?” Sam muttered, surveying the scene.
Deadpool snorted, peeking over Logan’s shoulder. “I don’t like it. Too many metal things. Reminds me of my last tax audit.”
Logan’s expression was as unreadable as ever. “This place reeks of weapons development. They’re creating monsters.”
Bucky nodded. “Then we’ve got to shut it down. Fast.”
Sam touched down beside them, scanning the area with his goggles. “There’s a control room through that hallway. We need to find a way in.”
Logan motioned for them to follow, his steps quiet and purposeful. Deadpool followed reluctantly, keeping an eye on the lab’s inhabitants. “So, what’s the plan, Stan?”
“Get in, disable the controls, and get out,” Bucky replied, voice low. “Simple.”
Deadpool snorted. “Simple for you, maybe. For me, it’s more like... whoopee cushion in an elevator simple.”
Logan shot him a glare. “Try to keep up.”
The group moved swiftly through the lab, avoiding the few guards they encountered. Sam took them down with ease, his shield reflecting blows and his wings knocking them out cold. Bucky covered their backs, his arm a blur as he took out guards from a distance.
Deadpool, however, seemed more interested in making jokes. “This reminds me of that time I crashed a bachelorette party. Ooh, bridal showers are nasty.”
“Stay focused, Wade,” Bucky snapped. “We’ve got a job to do.”
Deadpool saluted. “Yes, ma’am. Super serious mission ahead!”
They finally reached the control room. Sam hacked into the system while Bucky and Logan covered the door. “Okay, done!” Sam announced a few seconds later, pulling out a data stick. “The controls are offline. Whatever they’re planning, it’s stopped for now.”
“Good. Let’s get out of here before they figure out we’re in,” Bucky said, moving toward the exit.
Logan nodded. “Agreed. We’ve done enough damage for one day.”
Deadpool glanced around. “So... do we burn this place down or...?”
“Wade!” Logan growled, “You think I’m joking about leaving you behind, don’t you?”
Deadpool grinned. “I was kind of hoping you were.”
Sam shook his head, lifting off the ground. “Let’s go. The longer we stay, the worse it’ll get.”
—#—
As they flew out of the lab, the night sky above them flickered with the sound of distant alarms and the fading glow of a stolen experiment. Bucky looked over at Sam, then to Logan and Deadpool. “You know... maybe this isn’t the weirdest team-up we’ll ever do.”
Deadpool grinned. “Hey, who knows? Maybe we’ll do this again someday.”
Logan just snorted. “Not if I have a say in it.”
Bucky chuckled. “We’ll see. For now, let’s just keep our eyes on the road.”
The night air was crisp and biting as the four heroes hovered above the wreckage of the mutant lab. The city lights of a nearby town were barely visible in the distance. Bucky checked his watch, flicking a stray snowflake off the metal of his arm. “That’s the last of them,” he said, looking around at the others. “What’s next?”
Deadpool grinned behind his mask, adjusting his swords. “Now we celebrate! With chimichangas! I know a place that’s open 24/7—because tacos are the most important meal of the day.”
Logan shot him a withering look. “Or we go our separate ways. I’ve got better things to do than hang out with a bunch of amateurs.”
Sam sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Logan, I swear, you’re like a grumpy old cat who just won’t come out from under the porch. We saved your hide back there. Least you can do is have a drink with us.”
Logan’s lips curled into a snarl, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned away, crossing his arms. “Not my problem. Go have your fun without me.”
Deadpool raised an eyebrow, looking from Logan to Sam and back again. “You guys seriously going to let him sulk alone like that?”
Bucky stepped closer to Logan, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Logan. We’re not asking for a heart-to-heart. Just a beer or two. You need to unwind.”
Logan’s expression softened slightly, his gruff exterior cracking just a bit. “Fine,” he grumbled, “but only because I don’t want to hear Deadpool’s terrible jokes all night.”
Deadpool’s face lit up. “Score! Let’s do this. I’m buying, by the way. I’m filthy rich, you know.”
As they descended toward the nearest town, Sam chuckled. “You know, this whole situation could’ve been a disaster, but somehow, it turned out... kind of fun.”
Bucky nodded, patting Sam on the back. “Yeah. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but having Deadpool around wasn’t so bad. It was... different.”
Deadpool shot them both a thumbs-up. “Glad I could be of service! Now, who’s up for karaoke?”
Logan grunted. “Not happening.”
Sam shook his head, smiling. “Let’s get a table. We’ve earned it.”
They settled into a cozy, dimly-lit bar with old-fashioned booths and Christmas lights strung up along the walls. Deadpool immediately flagged down a waitress, ordering pitchers of beer and a round of nachos. “On me! What? I have money, okay?” he said defensively.
Bucky chuckled, grabbing a menu. “You know, Wade, I’ve got to admit, you’re not all bad. For a guy who talks too much.”
Deadpool grinned. “Why thank you, Buck. I aim to please.”
Logan snorted. “I’m still not convinced I made the right choice coming here.”
Sam grinned, clinking his glass with Bucky’s. “Come on, Logan. You’re not really going to leave us hanging, are you?”
Logan looked at them, then down at his beer. “Fine,” he said gruffly. “But just one. Then I’m out.”
Deadpool raised his glass. “Cheers to that! Now, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever fought?”
Bucky smirked. “Well, once I took down a giant squid in the Hudson River. That was pretty weird.”
Sam chuckled. “I fought a swarm of robotic bees once. They were made by a crazy billionaire.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Amateurs. I once went up against a Sentinal. Now that’s weird.”
Deadpool leaned in, wide-eyed. “A Sentinal? Dude, that’s hardcore! Did it talk?”
Logan scowled. “Of course not. It just tried to kill me.”
Deadpool held up his beer. “Cheers to weird fights, then. And to weird team-ups.”
They clinked glasses, laughter filling the air. For a moment, it was just them—no missions, no fighting, no chaos. Just a bunch of weirdos sharing stories and beers.
—#—
The bar filled with laughter and friendly banter. Deadpool sang a hilariously off-key rendition of “My Heart Will Go On” while Bucky and Sam groaned in embarrassment. Logan just stared into his beer, shaking his head.
“I hate karaoke,” he muttered.
But even Logan couldn’t help but smile as Deadpool leapt up on a table, brandishing a plastic sword like a pirate. “Arrr! Join me, mateys! We’ll plunder the nachos!”
Sam laughed, tossing Logan a napkin. “Welcome to the weirdest team-up ever, Logan.”
Logan grunted. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get used to it.”
The bar’s jukebox crackled with an upbeat tune, and Deadpool, now slightly tipsy, grabbed Logan’s shoulder. “Okay, okay, I’ve got a good one! Why did Wolverine cross the road?”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know, Wade. Why?”
“Because he heard there were chimichangas on the other side!” Deadpool howled with laughter, collapsing into his seat. “Get it? ‘Cause you’re always eating chimichangas!”
Bucky and Sam exchanged amused glances, sharing a chuckle at Deadpool’s antics. “Man, I don’t know how you do it, Wade,” Sam said, shaking his head. “You’re like a one-man sideshow.”
Deadpool grinned, raising his beer. “I’m just here to bring the fun! And maybe some tacos. Seriously, though, thanks for letting me crash your little party. Even Logan here.” He winked at the grumpy mutant, who just grunted in response.
Logan snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get used to it, Wade.”
Bucky leaned back in his booth, nursing his beer. “You know, I never thought I’d be sharing a drink with you guys. But... this isn’t so bad.”
Sam clinked his glass with Bucky’s. “Yeah. Who would’ve thought? A fugitive assassin, a former airman, a merc with a mouth, and a guy with metal parts walk into a bar...”
Deadpool’s eyes widened. “Whoa, that sounds like the start of a really terrible joke.”
Bucky chuckled. “Guess we’re the punchline.”
Logan finished his beer in one long gulp. “Well, we can’t stay here forever. Tomorrow, we’ll all go our separate ways again.”
Deadpool held up a finger. “Not so fast, Logan! We should do this again! You know, like a regular... mutant and super soldier support group! We could call it ‘The Misfits’ or something.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “The Misfits? Really?”
Deadpool nodded seriously. “Yeah! And every meeting, we could have a different theme! Super strength one week, super healing the next. And maybe, just maybe, we could invite someone else next time... like Spider-Man.”
Bucky smirked. “Or Black Widow. Imagine the look on her face if she had to put up with you two jokers.”
Logan snorted. “Yeah, good luck getting her to show up.”
Deadpool’s eyes lit up. “Challenge accepted! I’ll text her right now. ‘Hey, Nat, you wanna come get drunk with us? Oh, and there’s free nachos.’” He pulled out his phone, typing furiously.
Sam snorted. “You’re nuts, Wade. But... I guess it could be fun.”
Bucky raised his glass. “To the Misfits, then. And whatever weird adventures come our way.”
Logan just shook his head but couldn’t help a small smile as he clinked his bottle with theirs. “Don’t get all mushy. Next time, we’re going to a different bar.”
Deadpool grinned. “Deal! Just make sure they have chimichangas. And chimichangas are basically my love language, okay?”
As the night wore on, they laughed, told stories, and even sang a few ridiculous songs with Deadpool somehow managing to get them all to join in. The bar’s patrons watched in bewilderment, and the group didn’t care—here, for a few hours, they were just four guys having a good time.
When the sun began to rise, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, they stumbled out of the bar, the night’s shenanigans finally catching up with them. “I think I need a nap,” Deadpool mumbled, stumbling over his own feet. “Ugh, too many chimichangas.”
Sam chuckled, slinging an arm around Wade’s shoulders. “Come on, Wade. Let’s get you home.”
Logan shook his head, but there was a hint of approval in his eyes. “This was stupid, but... maybe I’ll see you clowns around again.”
Bucky clapped Logan on the back. “We’ll make sure of it, grumpy.”
The sun was fully up by the time they finally parted ways, each heading to their respective hideouts and safe houses. Deadpool staggered home, still singing softly to himself, while Sam and Bucky flew off into the morning sky, their wings catching the first light of dawn.
Logan watched them go, a strange feeling stirring in his chest. Maybe there was a place for him among this motley crew after all. Maybe... he wasn’t as alone as he thought.
As they disappeared into the distance, Deadpool’s parting words echoed in his head. “Catch you later, Misfits. Let’s make this a regular thing!”
Logan grunted, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel quite so... isolated. Maybe this was what he needed—a little chaos, a little laughter, and a lot of chimichangas.
And as the day began anew, the world seemed just a bit brighter, a bit less lonely. Because sometimes, even the oddest team-ups could lead to the best friendships.