Language, obviously.  

"What the shit, bro? Did you just hit her?" Deadpool yelled out in complete shock, quickly running his katana through the man he had been fighting only to turn to you and the guy who had the balls to actually strike back. "I know she's a girl, but come on, have some goddamn respect."

"She hit me first!"

"I don't care," he mocked, "you don't hit a woman. What the fuck kind of mother raised you?"

"Hey, let's not take this to mom town," you interrupted, "because we all know that bringing moms into the fight doesn't actually help the situation. I had to listen to Tony crying on my shoulder for months, and there's no way that I'm going through that again for you."

"That's just rude," Deadpool gasped, clutching his chest with his best attempt at being offended, "you don't have to be such a bitch about it."

"Okay, hold up," your assailant added, stopping with hands raised in question, "so let me get this straight. I can't hit her, but you can call her a bitch? That's what's completely rude, if you ask me."

"Well no one asked you, now did they?"

"Sorry, I just thought I'd help-"

"You're not helping," your friend huffed, turning his weapons on your target now that his was finished off. He easily ran his blades through the man and waited for him to slump down lifelessly on the ground at your feet before turning back to you. "There, I win."

With a loud huff, you returned your own weapons to their holsters, looking at him in complete disbelief, "what was that, Wade? I had him, you asshat."

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry!" he hurriedly apologized. He dropped his katana to the ground and scurried to the man, lifting him in his arms and holding in up in front of him, pretending to bring the poor man back to life by waving his limp hands back and forth as if to swing at you. "There! Get him now!"

"You're a jerk, you know that? Even Sam lets me take my own kills and you act like I can't handle myself. I don't need this, Wilson. I told you that I'd help you for a while, but I think it's time for me to tap out."

"No! No, no, no, no," he pleaded, dropping the man in a heap, "come on, (Y/N), pleeeeease? I don't want you to go, okay? I just wanted my best friend back, that's all! Ever since you went off to play with Captain Righteousness I never see you anymore. I thought we could bond a little over a few good murders, I swear. You know, like the good old days."

"In the good old days my kill ratio was higher than yours."

"It's been a slow few months, okay?" he groaned, resting his hands on his hips. "I haven't had much work to do, what with your crime fighting boy band all up in my business and that bald Heaven's Gate looking motherfucker on my back. You know, this used to never be a problem with us, this whole competition bullshit. It's almost like you're trying...too...hard..." he stopped, "wait! Are you not getting off now that Cap has you reigned in? Are your murder senses tingling in your Underoos and getting you all frustrated? Are you pent up with rage?"

"You're being ridiculous. I have plenty of work, thank you, and I'm nowhere near pent up."

"I could help you with that, you know."

"Back off, Pool, or I'll put you on my kill list and you'll see just how much I'm getting off."

"You. Wouldn't. Dare."

"Try me."

Deadpool stopped and held silent for a few minutes, bringing his hand up to rub over his chin thoughtfully, though you had every inclination that he wasn't thinking about anything at all and merely trying to stall. It was true that the man was one of your best friends and had been long before you were invited to join the Avengers, and though you wouldn't readily admit it to him, you were still a little mad that he hadn't come along with you. He knew how you felt, but the last thing that he wanted was to go legit when he found his new lifestyle as reckless vigilante much more his style, and if nothing else, he was all about style.

"Fine, I'll back off," he finally relented, "but come on, I've got one more really great murder spree lined up and I'd love it if you joined me. You know that you look good in red...that dark bloody color that you've got on your cheek..." he paused, bringing his hand to your face to wipe a small drop away, "right there. That's my favorite color on you."

~~~

It took only two minutes and seventeen seconds exactly for you to realize that you and your merc friend were in too far over your heads in this fight and that one of you was guaranteed to die; with Mr. Infallible at your side, your personal odds weren't looking good. You had sent in the emergency call to Steve, but even with his super speed, time was dragging on and you could feel your body begin to falter.

"This was your worst idea ever!"

"I got that, thanks!" Deadpool yelled back to you. "You don't have to rub it in, smartass!"

"Steve's on his way-"

"Oh, son of a bitch, (Y/N), you didn't?! Why did you call him in?"

"Because we're losing!"

"I know exactly what I'm...doing..." he grunted, taking a solid hit to the side of his head, tipping him into you, "outta the way, hot stuff!"

"You ran into me," you argued, pushing him away firmly with your hip, but it weakened your stance, leaving your left side open to attack. A swift swipe of a wayward blade tore easily through the woven material that lined your suit, leaving a clean and rather impressive gash that ran nearly the full length from your shoulder blade and down around to your abdomen with an arguably artistic flair. The deep red of your own blood was running easily between your fingers as you tried to stop it while your friend watched on. "The shit is this? Are we fighting...Zorro now?" you hissed, dropping to your knees as the wind was sucked from your chest. "What are you just...standing there...ow, son of a bitch...KILL HIM, WADE!"

"Right! Totally!" He pushed himself up out of his shock and turned to meet the bastard who had felt brave enough to take you on when he stopped, completely aghast at the sight in front of him. "I...uh, (Y/N)? I don't think that I'm gonna have to do anything. Cap kinda lost his shit."

You looked up just as Steve struck his final hit against the man's head, knocking his body limply at his feet, though his hand still gripped the collar of the now dead man's shirt so that he could drag him along for apparent dramatic effect. "(Y/N)," the Captain growled, "I told you, that if you die, I'll resurrect you just so that I can kill you myself. What, exactly, do you think you're doing?"

"Currently? Bleeding to death. What's new with you?" you asked snidely, feeling your head growing heavy. "Besides...if I die...I'm haunting your ass...so hard..."

"Guys, if you don't mind," Deadpool pushed his way in between the two of you slyly, "I'm just gonna move her...just for a minute...stopping death, you know..."

"Stopping the haunting," you countered, wincing into a shrill gasp when he lifted you from the ground and up against him.

"Stopping the murder," Steve snapped back, leading the two of you towards the quinjet for a quick getaway before more of the enemy could catch up. Deadpool hurried in and set you gently over a small cot at the center of the cabin, but when he didn't make any steps to leave, Cap stood steady at the doorway with a hand extended. "Okay, thanks, I can take it from here."

"The fuck you can. I'll tell you exactly what you can take and where, and I can guarantee that you're not gonna like how far I can shove that idea up your ass before you scream my name."

"Guys."

"Hey, watch your language, if you don't mind."

"I sure as motherfuckin' do mind, you virgin-eared-hundred-goddamn-year-old-but-disturbingly-hot-as-shit-son-of-a-bitch. How's that for a sack of sweaty ball meat worth of language?"

"Wade, come on, man," you practically begged. "You're gonna give the old guy a stroke."

"This little pussy, give me a stroke?" Steve scoffed uncomfortably, clearly out of his league. "Please, (Y/N), I'm from Brooklyn and you all act like I'm such a tight ass."

Deadpool pulled up his mask very slowly, and when his face was revealed it showed his eyes wide and his lips curled back in an excited grin filled with pride. "That had to be so hard for you!  Holy shit, do you even realize what you just said? The innuendo...it's so...it's beautiful! I'm as proud as a Momma on the first day of school! You used tight, pussy, and stroke in the same breath! Did you hear that, (Y/N)?"

"Lovely, guys," you conceded, "but I'd like to keep just a little of my own blood if you don't mind." When you pulled your hand back from the wound gaping across your side, the blood wasn't running as freely, but it hadn't stopped enough for you to find comfort just yet. Wade knelt down next to you so that Steve could fly the jet, his hands hurrying through the first-aid kit that he happened to find under the seat.

"You are kind of a badass though, (Y/N). You've got huge balls to bleed all over Stark's quinjet like this. That's really getting deep into the grates...like this is gonna be dried up in those crevasses." He stopped and shook his head, taking one last glance at the mess before returning to his work. "I don't know...I can't wait for Stark to murder your ass just so I can see you haunt Cap. You can't buy this shit on cable."