Nightmare

Confusion... Confusion Everywhere

(Still September 2009)
"So they sent your supply list. You start school next week," Tony says, sitting next to me, chewing a piece of gum. For breakfast.

I sigh. "Thank you."

"For what?" He asks.

"Everything," I reply, meeting him in the eyes for the first time.

He pats me on the back. "You don't need to thank me—Kid, have you been crying?"

"No," I lie instantly.

"Your eyes are all red," he points at me. "I know you don't trust me, but I trust you, and I want you to know that you can tell me anything, okay?"

I nod. "I texted my best friend last night, and when I couldn't tell her where I was and that I probably couldn't see her again, she blocked me. And now I have no way to ever talk to her again." I look down again.

I feel a pair of arms around me and I flinch away before realizing it's a hug. Tony doesn't notice, though, so I hug him back awkwardly.

He draws back. "Sorry I didn't ask."

"No, it's okay."

"Hey, I had an idea! What if we found your parents and you find them again in the future?" Tony brightens.

"I don't know my real parents, and I don't want to find the ones I had before," I mumble, feeling guilty even though it's true.

"We can do a DNA test," he replies.

DEAR GOD, WHAT DO I DO NOW?

"Can I decide later?" I ask casually, trying to contain my panic.

He nods.

I'm safe.

For now.

(+)

I read somewhere that if you say 'Deadpool' three times, he appears. I don't what is true and what isn't anymore, so I try it.

"Deadpool. Deadpool, Deadpool." I say, sitting on my bed.

Nothing.

I push my face into my pillow and I scream out of fear and frustration. I'll break my glasses if I press my face into the pillow too hard.

"Are you done?" I look up and see Deadpool leaning on the doorway of my room, playing with one of his swords. "Are you going to ask what the fuck I'm doing here or do you know already?"

"Nope," I tell him. "I need your help."

I explain Area 51, the doorway, my universe, and how Tony wants to do a DNA test with my DNA and how he might ask why if I say no.

Deadpool looks calm at all of this. "Here's what you're gonna do: if he asks, tell him yes. If he asks."

Are you fucking crazy—

"It's not fucking likely he'll fucking ask," Deadpool interrupts my thoughts.

"Well, what if he fucking does?" I demand.