Collateral Damage (DeadpoolxOC)

XIX - Dumpling Diplomacy

Wade walked through the grungy streets of New York like he owned the place, though technically he probably owed a lot of people around here something. Rent, for example. But hey, it's hard to evict a guy who'll put a katana through your skull for asking about late payments. 

Not that it was about the rent. Why would he even bother paying for that dump? The cockroaches had probably taken up permanent residence by now, and he wasn't living there anyway. He had Kate's place now—a Mr. Proper commercial come to life. Clean enough to make you wonder if she had a secret deal with a mop cult.

Should he go home? Nah, he was way too wired for that. The adrenaline was still buzzing in his veins like he'd just chugged a gallon of Monster energy. He could still smell the blood, feel the warm splatter against his skin. 

But with each step, there was a creeping void behind it—a hole where that satisfaction should be. He'd crossed a few names off his list, sure, but Karpov was still out there.

Where to go now? Kate was gonna kill him. Figuratively, of course. Maybe.

He smirked under his mask, ducking into one of his lesser-known safe houses. Definitely one he hadn't told Kate about yet. As the door creaked open, it hit him—he was keeping more secrets from her than she ever had from him. Huh, interesting.

With a click, the door slid open, and Wade slipped inside, breathing in the musty scent of neglect. He locked the door behind him, and pulled out his phone. Bad move.

The screen lit up like a Christmas tree. Forty-seven unread messages from Kate. With a sigh, he started reading them. One by one. The first few were relatively calm—"relatively" being the key word. 

A few sarcastic quips, some passive-aggressive remarks about his disappearing act. But as he scrolled further down, things escalated. Angry Kate noises intensify. 

He could practically hear the furious typing through the phone. Now she knew he'd read every single one.

He had been using his phone all this time—calling Adsit again, checking intel, even a few rounds of Candy Crush. But when it came to Kate's texts? Full-on ignore mode. 

Oh boy, this was gonna take some expert-level damage control. Maybe something involving a very expensive apology dinner, or hell, an apology nuke at this point.

"I mean, I was on a mission of vengeance. That's a good excuse, right?" he mused aloud. "No, no, you idiot, she's your partner. She's supposed to be with you for that."

But then again, ignoring Kate wasn't exactly on his to-do list—he simply had more pressing matters. It wasn't a full-scale operation—just a gathering of more intel. Not just to figure out Karpov's location, but to track down where Manning had slipped off to. 

Because if he were Manning, he'd already be halfway to some tropical island hideout. The tricky part? Deciding Manning's fate. If it turned out that slimeball had actually sold them out and not just looked the other way, well, Wade was saving him as a gift for Kate.

As he scrolled through his overstuffed inbox—so full that Google had started pestering him about buying extra Drive storage—one message from an hour ago caught his eye. It wasn't from Kate. Nope. This one was from Siryn.

"What the...?" Wade stared at the screen like it had just started singing Broadway show tunes. Siryn? Haven't-seen-her-in-years, punched-in-the-face-by-Vanessa Siryn? Oh, this was rich.

His brain whirred back to that glorious mess—Vanessa at the flower show, going full Mortal Kombat on Siryn's face because she thought they were having an affair. And sure, maybe he hadn't exactly squashed those lingering feelings for Siryn, but did it really matter now? Vanessa had died in his arms, bleeding out at the Bronx Zoo while pretending to be a gorilla. Fun times.