How I Met Him (A Spideypool Fanfiction)

Chapter 9~ Wade's story

"Well, let's finish this as quickly as possible." I said. I looked at Peter, he had a hopeful look in his eyes. No escape.

>Do we HAVE to tell him?<
[look at his eyes. We have to. Look at him, he is curious as fuck]
'Alright. If we have to tell our complete life story, we're going to do it quick so we don't get too many fucking emotions and other shit'

"It all started when I was 13." I started.

Oh boy, here we go.

"One day, my parents were shot. It was just a regular day, I ate breakfast, then headed to school.
But when I came home, i saw a man beating up my father. He was screaming something in a language I didn't understand. Then the man noticed me standing in the doorway, and yelled in a thick accent: "Who is this?!" At my dad. My mom was yelling the answer before dad could. "It's our son! Don't hurt him! Wade! Stay there, don't move!"

But the truth was, I couldn't; I was in shock. The man saw it and decided that I wasn't a threat. He turned to my dad again, and then shot my parents. I ran away, something I shouldn't have done. Never. If I didn't, I might have been able to sent help, or chase that killer. But being the dumbass I am, I... I... I ran..."

I started shaking. Scenes of my dead parents flashed in my mind. "Shhh, calm down. It's okay." Peter said.
When I was calmed down a bit, I continued.

"I ran away, and it finally hit me; I was alone. I had to do it on my own. That's the moment shit went down. For real. I started stealing, fighting, and even though I was young, I joined a gang. They saw something in me. "A fighter" they said. They found me in an alley, beat me up, but I wasn't giving up. They asked me to join them, and I said yes.

It was the first time someone believed in me again. It was the boost I needed. It was a year after my parents died, so I was 14.

Let's say I was drowning in the web which led me to the wrong side. I got involved with the wrong people. The worst of town. But I didn't see that I was doing horrible things, because I felt useful, and believed in.
Something which I haven't felt since my parents died.

That moment, the gun, the bullet... I never felt more useless as at that exact moment.

I started to deal and use drugs, and started killing people when I found out I had cancer. Why not live my life without rules, when I didn't get to live long anyway? My cancer was developing fast, that's what a doctor told me.

The police arrested my gang, they found us. But I was already gone when they could even realize I was there.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Found me, and told me they had some kind of medicine which could slow the cancer down. "The cure? You can cure me?" I asked. They just said "no. But we can slow the disease down." Giving me more time, they said. But on one condition; I had to join S.H.I.E.L.D.

I said yes, and they trained me enough to make me able to handle myself. They taught me how to use a gun, and then I realized something. Why was I doing this? Isn't it much more fun to hurt those who hurt you? I dropped out of the program when I was 15.

When I was 16, the weapon X dudes found me. They could arrange a home, which I didn't have back there. So I said yes, again. They found out about the cancer, then offered me something big: they could completely cure me, with an experiment. It wasn't tested on humans yet, so I wasn't sure.

I asked how long I had left if I did nothing about the cells eating my body alive. The answer? Horrible. Terrifying..."

A tear slid down my cheek. Damn emotions....

"They told me I had 3 weeks left... I went crazy, and shot about everyone in the room. Except the doctor who was in charge of the Weapon X program. I pointed a gun at him growling: "do it. Cure me or kill me" i said.

I thought shit already went down when I joined that gang and to be honest, that wasn't even the start yet. The X program was the beginning of it all. They made me... Do it... The-the..." I took a deep breath.

"They made me a mercenary.
They cured me, or actually, they gave me a healing factor. The healing made as much cells as the cancer destroyed. I was stable.

They tought me how to fight, and asked me which weapon I liked and wanted to control. My answer was: "the katanas"

I love katanas, because they're unforgettable. You won't remember the face of a guy who walks in with a gun right? But when you interrupt your ex's wedding because you're walking in with two swords on your back... Then slice the wedding cake in half and leave... You would remember that guy's face right?" I chuckled.

"Wait!" Peter gasped. "You actually did that?" He asked.
"Yep. I did" I grinned.
"You're batshit crazy!" He laughed.
"Can't deny that" I said.

"Where was I again? Oh, yeah!
The thing is, training and curing wasn't it. This was the point where I lost control. They gave me a weird injection, and suddenly I couldn't control myself anymore. They gave a some sort of chip, which made them able to control me. The horrible thing is that I could see what I was doing, but I wasn't able to stop it.

They made me a mutant killer, Peter.
They made me kill mutants...
The last job I'd done was to kill Wolverine, but he was stronger than me and... Well... Decapitated me. It caused the chip to be destroyed: that was the point where I could control myself again.

I took some clothes, then looked in the mirror. I was scared as fuck! The face staring at me... It was MY reflection?
I used to be a normal dope, but now... I remembered someone saying when they woke me up during the operation the bonding process or some crazy shit like that wasn't done yet. It made me look like this.

I escaped, then got involved with the mercenary thing; it was the only job I could find with that crazy face of mine, and it made money. I created the Deadpool suit, got all the weapons I needed and my character was born. I found out I had voices in my head.
A smart one, the one which makes sense, and an asshole. One who wants to blow everything up and blow peoples brains out.

So, then I was a merc, people nicknamed me the Merc with a Mouth, people fear me now, and I became the biggest asshole you can imagine.
I just don't give a fuck anymore about what people think. I have gun. And swords. Rude people will be killed. Simple shit right?"
~~~~~~~~
So that was Wade's story! I added some X-Men Origins:Wolverine stuff, but made most off it up myself. Hope you liked this chapter! Don't forget to enter the contest! (2 chappies back is all the info you need)
-Moon