Nurse Parker

Wade cursed.

It was five fucking times already that he had to dodge bullets coming to his direction. All of them should be avoidable if the police whom he supposed to work with was capable of aiming a fucking pistol. Wade twisted his body midair, delivering a triple headshot to three unlucky minions, but as he gracefully landed on his feet, another bullet again from the police’s bunker just scraped his spandex-clothed butt cheeks and gave him an annoying sizzling burn. Wade swiftly turned his full body toward them so he could do a proper yelling.

“You, doughnut dumpsters! Did you ever learn how to fucking aim?!” Wade glared at them, hoping that his mask could fully convey it to those officials in blue uniform. He really tempted to fire few bullets at them to further express his displeasure of their horrible skill.

“Sorry!” Some officers curtly shouted back.

“Aim at the minions next time! I know my beautiful red suit is an easier target than those goons’ dull black ones but you have to resist the urge, buddies. Today, Wadey couldn’t afford to get injuries!”

Just a moment that Wade took his eyes off his real opponents to finish his rant on the officers, the braver, or you could say stupider, goon attacked Wade with a combat knife in which he triumphantly stabbed it deep into the mercenary’s arm, all thanks to the distraction provided by the police. The goon’s joy over his small achievement, however, had a very brief existence because Deadpool just simply pulled it out, looking clearly unimpressed and bored. The disgustingly gushing sound of flesh and tender got brutally ripped off his arm made the goon gasped in horror and nausea. But before he could decide whether to puke, Deadpool plugged the knife back at its suicidal owner’s throat, precisely cut his Carotid artery, and kicked the goon away to bleed to death somewhere else that was not on Wade’s suit. With an irritated grunt, he inspected the slit wound left by the knife, glancing at the now dead goon on the dirty street with his white eyes unreadable.

“Give a lady something expensive! I don’t accept anything less than a sword crafted with the highest class of artistry and craftsmanship. Yours is cheap, peasant.” Wade flipped him the bird. Then, another bullet, this time from the enemy’s side, pierced through his inner thigh very close to the family jewels. Wade clenched his teeth and promptly dropped down to the ground, rummaging his now dirty backpack, and emerged back with several grenades. You couldn’t blame a guy for going to the extreme, especially when said guy used to experience getting shot down to the mainstream before. His beloved genitals which he liked most on his body got threatened here.

“Did I not make myself fucking clear? Stop shooting at me! I know it sounds ridiculous because we’re trying to kill each other and all but I cannot get injured – my love life is at stake, fuckers!”

The booming sound of the explosion soon echoed the area, debris flew everywhere and terrorists screamed. Amidst the smoke and fire, Wade didn’t even stop running his motor mouth, complaining about the wounds he recently acquired. Yup, never once in his life that he considered bombs were a bad idea. It was going to be hella difficult trying to explain it to his nurse.

Despite his maximum effort to not get injured, he ended up with gaping holes throughout his body and possibly broken ribs. A bomb was not really a good idea but at least, it finished the job. There were no more active terrorists now, most of them dead on the street which was painted red with blood and human’s body parts. Paramedics were all over the area checking on police officers and some incapacitated goons who managed to survive the carnage for their injuries. Wade was sitting on the pavement, secluded himself from the scene and breathing heavily. This was one thing that his mutation couldn’t help. His stamina was only slightly over that of human average and it took time for him to fully recover from the exhaustion, and his throat dried from dehydration. Wade also felt dizzy perhaps because he was still bleeding and not to begin with the fact that breathing through a mask helped so little in getting oxygen into his body.

Several groups of paramedics tried to persuade Wade to go to the hospital and have his injuries checked. It was amusing to see that they still approached him with caution and wariness. It was understandable given his tarnished reputation, he didn’t blame them a bit for not seeing him in a different light. Only one person so far who was truly glad to see someone like Deadpool.

When another pair of paramedics approached, Wade inspected his bleeding wounds; they were still healing albeit slowly which meant he couldn’t face Peter yet. So, Wade gleefully declined their offer. “Sorry boys, I’ll stay here and get some fresh breeze.” There was no breeze and his surrounding smelled like a slaughter house. The paramedics shared with each other a concerned look. “The charge nurse wouldn’t be pleased to hear that,” They muttered among themselves but loud enough for Wade to overhear.

“Who?” Wade inquired.

“Me.” Peter chilly answered on the behalf of his team and Wade’s shoulder visibly sagged. Bad sign. With the exception of a thigh bandage and a patched cheek, the nurse looked well, just paler than usual. However, more importantly, he looked pissed. Quickly, Peter sent off his technicians to another area where few injured goons were waiting to be transferred to the hospital. Now, it was just the two of them left.

When Peter arrived back at the hospital and ensured that Captain Stacy was safe, his colleagues almost tied him onto the bed so he could rest. It took lots of begging so his fellows would let him work again but in exchange, Peter would not allow stepping a foot outside the gate. And here Peter was, promise broken because the mercenary denied to be taken care of and he had to come get the stubborn man himself. Peter crossed his arm, brows lifted; the body language in which he silently demanded Wade’s answer for why he refused to come to the hospital.

“I plan to visit when these—“Wade gestured the wounds all over his body, “are healed.” He finished in a small voice.

“The process could be faster if you let us apply disinfectant on them,” Peter stated matter-of-factly.

“I know! But I don’t want you to know that I failed to keep up to my promise,” Wade sulked. The mercenary was staring at the hole in his arm accusingly. “Won’t the balcony agreement be void? You asked me to be careful but I couldn’t fulfill my part.”

Peter blinked slowly.

Well, Peter would admit that it took him a full minute to comprehend Wade’s confusing explanation for his weirder than usual behavior. He was drugged with so many medicines they gave to ease off his pain when they patched him up in the medical tent. However, when he finally got the message, Peter couldn’t help but snort, and his amusing smile gradually adorned his tired face.

“You have various kind of bullets and debris embedded in your body and all you could think is that I won’t date you?” Wade pouted and huffed indignantly “Of course! The date is more important!”

“Wade, you’re unbelievable,” Peter informed him, shaking his head affectionately at the impossible man in front of him. And abruptly, Wade got swooped within Peter’s arm as the nurse proceeded to carry the mercenary, princess-style, toward the hospital. Wade squealed delightfully.

“My charming prince!”

“No, I’m an exhausted nurse.”

“Huh, a skinny nurse who could easily carry a 6’2” man whose weight around 210 lbs. like nothing? How did you manage to keep a secret on your true strength this far when you keep showing off like this?” Wade mildly commented, his eyes perceptive. Peter plastered his face with indifference, trying so hard to not let his smile show.

“What’re you talking about? It’s adrenaline. Besides, no one care even if I grew another pair of an arm as long as I could do my shifts.”

“I do care very much. Why not you show me your ‘ability’ perhaps later in a very private setting, for example, bedroom?” Wade whispered into Peter’s ears with his gravelly voice. It sent an immediate shiver through Peter’s body. Wade might not believe this but his cancerous scarred voice box did give the man the most unique and sensational voice which was so hoarse and deep. It secretly was Peter’s favorite sound in the world, second only to the merc’s own heartbeat. Oh god, Peter fell for the man so bad but he never planned to confess this secret to Wade very soon. Instead, he said,

“Wade. I’m going to drop you.”

Wade had been sitting in one of the medical tents for a while now, his wounds taken care of. Peter brought him water and even some candies of his own in which he ordered Wade to eat because Peter was too tired to feel hungry and Wade needed the energy to regain his strength. The nurse came to check on him constantly to make sure Wade was doing okay and didn’t do something reckless like attempting to escape. However, Peter couldn’t stay with him very long as he had to oversee the after-crisis works on the ground floor. The nurse was clearly busy and Wade had no idea why he insisted on checking on him, the mercenary shook his head, again perplexed by Peter's action.

“Why go through this difficulty for just someone like me?” He mumbled to himself. However, coincidently Peter just return to the tent for a quick visit in time to hear his mercenary’s insecurity. The nurse was immediately at his side and sat down next to him. Wade carefully avoided Peter’s eyes. But Peter wouldn’t be going to make a mistake again, so he firmly clasped Wade’s hand and laced their fingers together.

“Because you’re important to me,” Peter whispered back the answer which had Wade cackled humorlessly.

“People would beg to differ. I’m a villain. As soon as everything settles the police would try to drag me to jail.”

“They can try,” Peter growled. Wade suddenly looked up at him in surprise, too stunned by the unlikely aggression the younger man exhibited.

“However, I don’t think that would be the scenario. You’re now a hero. You saved everyone here. You saved me. Thank you.” Peter smiled at him. It was beautiful. Wade was a grown man and he shouldn’t blush at the compliment sincerely given to him by the man he adored. But he did anyway.

Peter closed his eyes with a sigh, leaned his head on Wade’s shoulder. “Stay, Wade.” The hand gave him a firm squeeze in return and before he knew, Peter fell asleep from his exhaustion.

As far as he could remember, no one really cares for his well-being. No one ever thinks that Wade Wilson was worth saving.

Many years ago, he was born in Saskatchewan, Regina, to a family bonded together with alcohol and poverty. The mother, whose face he never remembered perished since he was young, her life too beaten up by the hand of her own husband and alcoholism. The old man who was Wade’s father cared nothing about another living being in the house, even said life was his own son. The reason he kept Wade was simple. As an asset, Wade was a useful excuse for the man to leech onto the social welfare for financial support. There was also another reason too. Sometimes, he would send Wade off during the cold winter night to get him some beer from the local store. It was freezing and dark out there but inside the store was surprisingly warm and bright with light and the aisle of candies and chocolate. The younger Wade always stared at them longingly, his hand clutched tightly on dirty banknotes.

One day, he made up his mind.

The boy spent all the money purchasing chocolate. Predictably, his dad beat the crap out of him before storming out to get his booze which was fortunate for Wade because the alcoholic bastard completely forgot about the existence of Wade and a bag of candies that scattered on the floor. Wade hurriedly crawled back to his tiny room so he could eat his hard-won prize, and paid none of his attention to the green and purple bruises that started to form on his body. Back then, violence was the only thing that his younger-self associated with human touch. It was the foundation of his reality, his world.

It didn’t change much as time passed by. In a few years later, Wade would run away and establish his life on the street where he learned how to fight and survive. His years of cultivating fighting skills paid back very well when they got him the position in the US army and Canadian special ops. Then, the dishonorable discharge and the beginning of mercenary career followed shortly. During those years, Wade had it all, money, booze, and women but the most consisting thing he never failed to accumulate was the pain: scars and wounds that no one cared. Wade tended to them only when it was necessary. However, the whole story of becoming the immortal Deadpool made him entirely discard the idea of caring for injuries. Why bother when he couldn’t die?

Then, he met him.

Peter, a man whose existence had Wade question his reality for the first time in his life, and made him wonder how someone this pure and beautiful could exist in the same world of the like of Wade. Peter was the name of the nurse who invited the most dangerous mercenary into his house and took care of his deformed body; kindness never dimmed from his big brown eyes when he looked at Wade’s cancerous scars and the delicate hands that touched him always with gentle and care.

At first, it confused him, leading him to visit the mysterious nurse, again and again, to solve the mystery why the man cared for a life that nobody gave a damn. Gradually, it stemmed into addiction as Wade began to crave Peter’s attention. He yearned the nurse’s touch and he loved his own reflection in Peter’s worrying eyes. They made him felt like he was lovable for once in his life. Before Wade ever realized, he was deeply in love with the person whom he clearly didn’t deserve.

Nevertheless, Peter scared Wade more than any puny torture at the Weapon X facility. Peter shed tears for his pain, simply as that it broke Wade. He was angry at himself for putting Peter in that situation but moreover, he was afraid to change. There were too many uncertainties that he didn’t know. How could he make sense of his crumbling reality now? What if he had nothing left to feel? What if this was just another cruel illusion that never lasts long? Hence, it should be better this way if Wade made himself scarce for Peter’s sake.

But it was so hard staying away from the best thing in his life. Even more, the problem wasn’t fixed and both of their hearts ached because of the separation.
For a week that Wade has silently watched over Peter and whenever the nurse fell asleep on the balcony, Wade would climb up to see the sleeping nurse. Unlike many rumors, he could be quiet if he wanted but Wade just normally preferred the grand opening with guns and bombs. He would quietly observe the nurse’s face. Up close, Peter looked ever younger with his baby face and long eyelashes, his brows furrowed even in his slumber and Wade knew it was his fault. Carefully, he scooped the younger man in his arms and carried him to his bedroom so Peter could at least sleep better in a warm and comfortable bed than a cold hard floor. Wade would linger around, and moved strands of hair out of his face.

“Why are you so stubborn, Peter? You don’t know me. Heck, you never ever see my hideous face.” Every night when he put Peter in his bed, Wade would repeat his unsolvable bafflement. Still, he always returned to Peter’s side.

When Peter woke up again, he was alone in the tent. Wade disappeared. However, this time Peter knew everything was going to be okay.

A few day later, Peter was gluing himself on his couch, watching the TV in his apartment, the news about the New York incident still playing on every channels and analyst giving their perspectives on the attack. He was given days off due to his injuries and Peter was already bored. He did what any single adult given a day off would do: open the TV, play with his phone and eat high sugary snacks instead of getting himself real and nutritional food because he was too lazy to move his body. A quick thought, Peter should do laundry too but no he would do that later. Peter’s body automatically emitted a groan when someone rang his doorbell.

Slowly, he waddled to open the door.

There was a familiar stranger standing outside. Of course, Peter never ‘really’ saw him before. He wore a worn black jean and a pair of military boots. His red hoodie was pull up to cover his face even though he already had a cap. They created a shadow on his face, but it wasn’t sufficient enough in hiding his fascinating scars or his vibrant blue eyes. Peter couldn’t believe that Wade hid this beautiful pair of eyes from him all the time. He should be mad but later.

The man lifted his takeout bag with his familiar grin, his eyes dancing with mischief, “I bought us some Mexican.”

“Welcome back, Wade Wilson,” Peter said with his equally brightest smile.

At night, they cuddled on the couch watching a program which currently paid a tribute to the superheroes who rescued New York. Wade was giving his comment and critiques here and there. Meanwhile, Peter comfortably adjusted his head under Wade’s chin and his back on Wade’s warm chest. He didn’t comment anything, just happily munching on his Kit Kat Chunky and contented in Wade’s rumbling.

“These heroes are there for them just for a brief moment but takes all the glory from the people who has worked tirelessly day and night, before, throughout and after every crisis to ensure the wellbeing of everyone. You know what—you and the nurses, every professional even those police with a horrible aim are the true heroes,” Wade said fervently before he murmured into Peter’s ears, “You’re my hero.” And Peter was so touched with Wade’s sincerity, he almost kissed him. But he didn’t because his mouth was still full with Kit Kat, so Peter hummed, closing his eyes.

Then, Wade changed the topic.

“How about Nurse Parker?” he asked out of the blue and Peter forced his heavy eyelids to open.

“What?”

“Your super name, Petey. Have you even listened?”

“No. Why do I need a super name?”

“Because you’re one of the heroes. Heroes have super names.” Wade explained. “How Florence Nightingale sounds to you?”

“That a ‘female’ name of the late founder of modern nursing, Wade.”

“Still a good name for a super alias. How about—“

Peter did the most reasonable thing in this situation to stop Wade ruining their mood. He put his half-eating Kit Kat Chunky into Wade’s jabbering mouth and sealed it with a kiss.