Wade Wilson woke up with a huge headache.
{We've got to stop waking up like this.}
[Well, unfortunately the author isn't a very creative writer and thinks she has to leave small cliffhangers at the end of every chapter.]
Wade rubbed his temples as he ignored the voices in his head. He tried to focus on the things around him but everything seemed blurry and gray. He managed to get up from the bed he was on and soon after getting up he had fallen. He tried to stand up again but he became dizzy and fell. Feeling nauseous, Wade reached his face in order to take off the mask...the mask? He felt his face, his scarred, messed-up face. Where was his mask?
{This is SOOOOOOO weird... I feel like we had a dream about this once.}
[When?]
{You know, when we found ourselves at this all you can eat tacos buffet and we ate all we could eat and then threw up...}
[...I don't remember this dream. Though I do remember we had this dream where we actually paid our taxes.]
{...Why would we dream about that?}
[We must dream different dreams, which seems logical since I am a mind of high intelligence while you are rather...]
"Shut up guys, I'm not feeling well 'nd you're only making it worse," Wade grumbled as he concentrated on regaining his balance. He got up, finally, and shuffled his way to the bed. He desperately looked of his mask but found nothing in the bed but a small needle. Wait, needle? Could that be why he felt so...
[Obviously]
Hey I thought I told you to shut up!" Wade muttered. He leaned his back on the wall and looked at the rest of the room. The king-sized bed from which Wade had woken on had dark red sheets and golden pillows. The walls around him were also golden and the carpet he was stepping on was dark red. There was a dresser in front of the bed with a small T.V. on top of it. To the left of the dresser was a small refrigerator. Next to the refrigerator was a door.
Wade made his way slowly to the door, his right hand went to the gun on his... shit. He looked down at his legs and saw he wasn't in his costume but instead in some crappy sweats and a white t-shirt. Wade took a deep breath as he proceeded to open the door. He turned on the lights and let out a sigh of relief as he saw the bathroom and a Holiday Inn card by the sink. He was at a hotel. Not in some underground lair or creepy graveyard.
Wade made his way to the dresser and opened up the top drawer.
{Please be our suit, please be our suit.}
Inside was, volia, his suit plus some new guns and his katanas. On top of the suit was a note. Wade set the note on the table as he got dressed. After loading the last gun and putting it in its appropriate holster, Wade read the note.
'Dear Deadpool, I don't know how the fuck you got in the Blackbird but DONT DO IT AGAIN BUB! I would have turned you into a fucking kebab if you weren't unconscious and beaten to a pulp. You are in a Vancouver Holiday Inn and are welcome to go to room 212 after you have recovered.
P.S. If it weren't for Professor X, you'd be waking up out in the middle of the forest! So don't go getting all cocky and arrogant about this you little piece of shit!
-Wolverine'
{Aw, Wolvey is so sweet.}
[...]
[He just called a piece of shit...and he said he would have left us in the middle of the forest if it weren't for Professor X... and he would have butchered us if we weren't already butchered.]
{Yeah, but he wrote us this note and it is the thought that counts.}
"Man, you're turning into Spidey," Wade chuckled as he heard the crazy voice... Spidey! Wade's eyes widened as he remembered his boyfriend. He folded the note and saw some kind of writing on the back. He quickly unfolded it and saw the words, 'Free breakfast served from 7 to 10 am'. He crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it in the trash. He locked the hotel door and got in the nearest elevator. He hovered his finger over the 2 button. 'Room 212'... Wade's eyes narrowed. He had to go save his Petey.
{Yeah, but first breakfast.}
'Yeah, first breakfast,' Wade thought as he pressed the 1 button.
YOU ARE READING
I Was Only Trying To Protect You
ФанфикWade Wilson aka Deadpool never needed anyone. He had always been able to get up after a fight even when he didn't have his legs. But as he walked down the street he felt lost; he felt empty; he felt... dead. "Stop it author! You're giving too much...