CyberPool 20XX (Male!Deadpool Reader )

Chapter4: Make Way To Start The Revolution

Guilty by association. That's what I am! Because when I woke up this morning, I didn't expect David, of all people, to knock on my door and ask me—me, of all people!—to walk with him to school. Whatever the reason was, I'd find out eventually. For now, I'd just let the current take me wherever it wanted.

We walked down the street, past the parked police cars, the weirdos watching unspeakable things in public, and up some stairs where you'd hope not to catch a disease just by being near them. The school looked plainer than I'd imagined. For something sponsored by a multi-billion dollar company, you'd think they'd throw in some pizzazz.

David: Wait here, choom. I'll be right back...

David walked through the door, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught the red stains on the back of his mom's yellow medic jacket. My mind fought against it. It couldn't be his blood. It just couldn't be...

I didn't want it to be...

(Yesterday Afternoon)

You and your two friends walked into the apartment, tossing your weapons and shoes to the floor. You could've kept the jokes going, but today felt different—a more serious moment in your reel of gags. You sank into the couch, laying your head back against the channel. The room was eerily quiet, and you hated it. You couldn't stand the silence.

Y/N: So! Anybody want to know the complete process to make Texas Roadhouse bread? I memorized it after they ran out that one time I was there.

James: Pft. Texas Roadhouse doesn't run out of bread, Y/N.

Y/N: They did after I kept ordering more.

James called you an idiot and a liar right to your face. You'd never been more emotionally wounded in your life. But that little exchange was enough to loosen the tension in the room, and you could feel the atmosphere finally letting go of your throat.

James: I had a chat with the kid.

Wendy: How'd that go?

James: About as well as it could've. No need to worry about him running off. Hating his mom's not on the table, so we can scratch that. I think he's just upset about his situation.

Y/N: Situation?

James: Yeah. The kid and his mom have been on the edge of being destitute for a while. Or close enough. Did you know most of the money you've been throwing at him was spent on essentials? He's never spent any of it on himself. Just help his mom pay the rent.
That's it.

Wendy: He's a good kid. That's more than most people can say in this city.

James: Yeah, but I don't think he's gonna keep it up for long. Heck, he's probably already given up.

You and Wendy shared a look, both of you confused.

Y/N: What? Given up on what?

James: On fitting into the mold his mom set for him. He's pushing his limits.

Wendy: He's about to fall off the edge.

James: ... Yeah... I guess that's a good way to put it. I talked to him about it. You know, I told him that he's got a choice in life. Every decision leads somewhere, and every choice has its consequences. He can either walk the straight line society wants him to—keep his head down, play by the rules—or he can push back, go against the grain. But that path... it comes with more sacrifices than most people are willing to make. Told him it's not easy. I don't know what was going through his head, but from the way he looked... it was like he was already halfway down that road. Like he's about to make some bad choices.

Y/N: Should've hit him with the Professor X speech, man. For some reason, those always work.

James: Yeah, but that's only 'cause of Charles' "Love Me" mind field or whatever. Think about it—what sane person would willingly follow a bald guy to some mansion in the middle of nowhere, New York, surrounded by a bunch of random kids? That's just weird when you break it down.