Alina Shostakov is a Alexei Shostakov's daughter, trafficked to the Red Room with her siblings, Natasha and Yelena only she was there since birth, having no choice but to do as the said.
During a mission, she meets Wade Wilson, a mercenary with a l...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
- "I didn't." -
2013
Alina walked down the street to her apartment, a coat wrapped around her tightly as she held an umbrella over her head. Across the street, Wade watched her walk down the path, his hood up over his head.
Crossing the street, he started to follow behind Alina, making sure to keep his distance because if she heard him, she'd turn around in suspicion. A mother was bent over her baby's pram; calming the crying infant before she looked up, her smile falling at Wade's scarred face, "Come on, let's go."
People around the market eyed him with judgmental looks and he tried to turn away from them but another person would just have the same expression on their face. He stopped when Alina did to get something from a market stall.
"Oh, that must hurt." A woman whispered behind him.
"Thanks." Alina smiled at the woman who gave her one back.
She payed and turned to carry on back home. Wade squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to block out the chatter around him. He placed a hand on his head, adjusting his hood before following after her. A couple stopped laughing when they saw him, "God, he's so fucking gnarly."
"Look at his face." A woman mumbled to her friend as they stared at him.
"Oh, my God. Poor guy." A man said.
"Honey, don't stare." A woman told her child although she was staring too.
"Freak."
Wade breathed heavily, looking around frantically at the people who stated back at him in horror. He squeezed his eyes shut completely, tilting his head down as if it would stop the stares. He broke out of his panic at the sound of Alina's voice.
"You're early." The Widow stated.
"I know." Steve nodded, pushing himself up off the wall as Alina started to unlock the building door with her keys. "You took so long."
"I didn't." Alina scoffed.
"You agreed I come here at 4:30. What the time?"
"4:30."
"Yeah, half an hour ago it was."
Wade stared at his reflection in the door, Alina and Steve walking upstairs chatting. Glancing away he walked across the street again.
-
"No way. I'm not making her life as ugly as mine." Wade denied, now in Sister Margaret's with Weasel.
"Come on, Wade, it can't be that bad." Weasel replied.
"Ah, bullshit!" Wade exclaimed, walking closer to him. "I'm a monster inside and out. I belong in a fucking circus."
"Wade, Alina loves you and I'm pretty sure she'll have seen worse. She doesn't care what you- Oh!" Weasel grimaced as Wade pushed down his hood. "Oh."
"Do you like what you see?" Wade asked.
"No." Weasel responded straight away. "You look like an avocado had sex with an older, more disgusting avocado."
"Yeah." Wade agreed.
"Not gently. Like it was hate-fucking." Weasel continued. "There was something wrong with the relationship and that was the only catharsis that they could find without violence."
"And the only guy who can fix this fugly mug if the British shot stick who ran the mutant factory. And he's gone. Poof!" Wade explained, gesturing his arms outwards.
"Yeah, we gotta do something to remedy this cause as of now, you only have one course of action." Weasel told him.
"Damn straight. Find Francis-"
"Star in horror films." Weasel said at the same time.
"What?" Wade questioned.
"Star in your own horror films." Weasel repeated. "'Cause you look like Freddy Krueger face-fucked a topographical map of Utah."
Wade grabbed a chair and span it, sitting down on the backwards seat, "Here's what I'm actually gonna do. I'm gonna work through his crew until somebody gives up Francis, force him to fix this, then put a bullet in his skull and fuck the brain hole."
"I don't wanna see that or think of it again." Weasel mused. "But the douchebag does think you're dead, right?"
"Yeah." Wade nodded.
"That's good. You should keep it that way." Weasel advised.
"What, like, wear a mask?" Wade quizzed.
"Yes! A very thick mask. All the time." Weasel agreed. "I am sorry but you are haunting. Your face is the stuff of nightmares."
"Like a testicle with teeth." Wade mumbled.
"You will die alone. I mean, if you could die." Weasel continued. "Ideally, for others' sake."
"That'll do." Wade cut him off.
"All you need now is a suit and a nickname, like Wade the Wisecracker... or Scaredevil, Mr. Neverdie. Oh, shit." Weasel sighed.
"What?" Wade asked.
"I put all my money on you and now I just realised I'm never gonna win the, uh-"
"Dead pool." Wade cut him off. "Captain Deadpool... No, just... Just Deadpool."
"Yeah. To you, Mr. Pool. Deadpool. That sounds like a fixing franchise." Weasel said and they clinched their shot glasses.
