Not A Chance

Chapter 11 - Just Business

Wade looked at his reflection in the mirror and studied the scars all over his body as he always did. He used to be disgusted every time he'd looked at them but he was used to their appearance by now, he was still embarrassed of them though. But whether he liked it or not they would always be a part of him, so he'd have to learn to love them at some point...or at least tolerate them. That wasn't what he was focusing on right now though.

While only wearing his Captain America pajama pants he traced his fingertips across the name engraved on his chest. Maybe his skin was damaged but the name had always remained intact, thank whatever god was out there. His soulmate's name had always been something he cherished, and for a man who didn't care for much, not even his life, that meant a lot.

———

Wade woke up. Everything around him had been burnt to ashes but him. He pinched himself to make sure he was indeed still alive and not in the fucking limbo or something.

He was looking around, quite disoriented. It took him a couple moments to remember.

'My soulmark.'

He looked down at his chest, but only perceived a faint trace of gold over the scarred tissue. Wade frantically looked around for a shard of glass, a window, anything. He needed to see, he needed to make sure it was still there.

He grabbed a piece of what used to be a mirror and held it up, trying to see his soulmark. He sighed relieved. It was still there.

'Peter Benjamin'

———

"At least he has a nice name."

"Love the alliteration."

"You think he's hot?"

"Even if he wasn't we cannot get too picky, can we?" Wade kept staring at the gold ink. Since Weapon X a few more letters had appeared. "Peter Benjamin Par." He read out loud, yellow was right, it was a nice name...so far.

"When do you think we'll meet him? I'm tired of waiting!"

"Does it matter? The moment he looks at our face he's gonna run away and we'll never see him again." Ah and there's White's positive comment of the day. "The whole soulmate thing is trash in my opinion."

"Literally no one cares about your opinion."

"Literally." Wade turned around and walked to his closet, he needed to find a clean shirt, at least one that wasn't covered in blood nor Cheeto dust. "Who's to say he's not into more exotic looking men?"

"Oh so we're not ugly but exotic? Since when?!"

"Since I started to embrace the texturized dildo look." Wade took a red shirt and put it on, it smelled okay. At least it didn't smell of death. Wait, was it actually red?

"He's our soulmate for a reason, he has to like us!"

"He won't."

"He better fucking like me otherwise it's gonna be embarrassing." Wade chuckled. The boxes had finally shut up when his phone rang and silence was replaced by the theme song of My Little Pony. He picked up. "Hello, Wade's killer murder business. You name 'em we end 'em. How may I help you?"

"Killer? Seriously?" Asked the voice on the other end.

"I do offer a killer service if i must say so myself." Wade said, chuckling at his own joke because the bastard thought he was just that funny.