I haven't done one for this series in a while, and Deadpool was requested...so yeah, angst warning.  

Following "Hired Help" in Book 2:  https://www.wattpad.com/395334112-imagine-if-you-assembled-the-avengers-volume-2

After the ridiculous meeting with Deadpool that had left you breaking and entering into the Avengers tower, where you met the equally ridiculous Hawkeye, you were coerced into working with the red-leather-clad mercenary on a few side jobs when he needed an extra set of hands, or just someone to appreciate his wit on a particularly good day. It began with a random job here and there, maybe once every few months; but then it became once a month, then once a week, and now you were seeing each other nearly every day. Despite the frequent interactions, however, you never spoke to each other about anything other than work and throwing the regular insults and sarcastic quips back and forth while getting your work done. You didn't want to know any more about the guy than absolutely necessary, and the sentiment seemed to be readily shared.

It wasn't for lack of trying in those first few weeks, however; he just wasn't as talkative as you had expected, but then again, neither were you. Scratch that; he talked incessantly, but about absolutely nothing. You liked him well enough, and you got along far too easily, but that was the extent of your partnership; it was work. At least that's what you both had thought, right up until the moment when it wasn't. Right up until the moment that Wade found himself uncharacteristically mute, staring at your eerily still form beneath faded and scratchy linens that smelled of sterility and hopelessness.

There's nothing we can do.

"That's bullshit," Wade scoffed softly under his breath, sitting otherwise numb at your hospital bedside, "there's always something. Until Infinity War came out, the good guys always made it to the end of the story one way or another. There's always a last-minute save because Marvel is a bunch of pussies. Just you watch, they weren't dusted...they just didn't moisturize and it was...windy..."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson, I wish I had better news." The doctor in the bland white coat that really needed a good bleaching turned away with his beady little eyes cast to the ground, his nervous hands wringing together out of...what? Fear? Fear of what this unmasked vigilante might do to him when he fully turned away. He was nothing of consequence, and he flashed through Wade's mind like a fleeting thought. He had given up, so he no longer mattered in any business that involved you. Wade wanted him nowhere near you now.

"I'll call Stark," Wade nodded to himself, once finding that he was alone in your room. "That guy can fix anything from what I've heard." He paused and reached out to take your limp hand, pulling back with fearful hesitation at the sensation he was about to have when you didn't respond to him. Taking a long breath, he steeled his resolve and grabbed your hand and held it in both of his, crushing it to his chest as he watched for any sign that you might come back to him. "I know that Stark and his Who's-Your-Daddy club aren't my biggest fans," he continued, "but I don't give a shit. If any of them can undo what I've done, then I'll crawl up to their doorstep and beg each and every one of them until they listen to me. They can turn their backs on me, (Y/N), but I won't let them turn their backs on you. This was my fault, and I'm gonna do whatever I've gotta do to un-fuck my fuck up."

~~~

"Alright, listen up close, here's the plan," Deadpool said quietly, the two of you peeking out from around a building and into a dark alley, waiting for your target to appear, "when you see that little pussy grabber come out of the theater, you take the east side of the building and I'll take the west. Whoever gets their hands on his perverted little micro-penis bearing carcass takes his face to the pavement, exfoliation style, you got it?"

"I'll wipe the face off his face," you nodded. "Remember that shitty movie, Face Off? With Cage and Travolta? Like that, only with actual talent and better CGI."

"Goddamn, if I've said it once, I've said it a million times...you're just never going to break a wall like I can, cinnamon buns, so keep those perfect lips closed for another time."

"Never gonna happen, Wilson, but you keep that dream alive."

~~~

And it never did happen. And Wade was struggling to find that dream to keep going.

"Yes...sir," Wade coughed out uncomfortably into the phone, "I understand. It was a long shot. Thank you for your time...Mr. Sir...S-stark, sir."

He closed the line, feeling more defeated than ever; even more so than the moment that he saw you fall limply at his feet when his own body was unable to protect you from this fate. He had given Tony every detail about every second that had passed that day; where you were struck, at what angle you were hit, how your body turned as it fell, the sound of your last breath, and the look in your eyes before they closed. He didn't need any of that information, of course, but the man had let Wade tell him all of it as if out of courtesy, or maybe pity, as the only solace he could offer. It was the first interaction with Stark that Wade had ever tried, and he came away from it only that much more hopeless. If Tony Stark, the futurist, the man who could solve any problem put in front of him had nothing to offer, where would he go now?

Wade tossed the phone aside, the loud bang of it bouncing across the bedside table echoing around the room meant to try to startle you, just to see what would happen. Of course, he got nothing in return.

"Well, (Y/N), that went about as well as we could expect," he began softly, leaning in closer to you, "but I had to give it a go, right? The two of us...we've been through our share of shit, haven't we? Hell, we've been through everyone's share, now that I look back. But in all of it, there's one thing that I just can't wrap my fucked-up, pepperoni flatbread, pop culture constipated head around. I can't understand why you stuck around so long. That night when we broke into the tower was the most fun I'd had in so long, but I expected that to be it, ya know? And then you came back, and we teamed up like there was nothing to it. It was like I realized just what I was missing for so long, and it was you. It was you! It was you, and that was so goddamn unfair of you to get me to see, because now look at me!" he screamed, jumping up from his chair and waving his arms wildly around the room. "Now look at me, (Y/N)! I called Tony Fucking Stark like he would give one of his gold-filled shits about me! Is that insane? You can say yes, by the way, because I am," he scoffed, "I'm certifiably insane!"

Wade sucked in a shaking breath and dropped himself back into the chair, his shoulders hunched in his fatigue, and before he could bring himself to take your hand in his again, he wiped his arm across his eyes to catch a few stray tears that found their way to his cheeks, his gaze being drawn to the words that had been on his arm since the day he finished the hell of puberty. They were the words of a soul mate that he never believed in, so he never paid them any attention. They were embarrassing for years, until he realized that they were describing a pretty great experience that he had been denied since that day.

Until now. Now, they incited terror that tore his chest apart with each breath.

I've got a really bad feeling about this

Wade gasped and reached down to yank your blankets away and to expose your arm, already knowing what he would find, and that the words emblazoned in your skin would match words that had passed through his lips on that very first day when you met. He had to stifle a laugh at the choice of phrase that the universe had cursed you with, until it fully struck him as to what he had just realized, and the pain that ripped him to shreds with it.

Lady with a fabulous boobs trampoline and an ass that I could ride off into the sunset

"No. No, no, no, baby, no, these can't be our first and last words, okay? They can't," he begged of you, standing up with a new urgency and a regenerated panic coursing through his veins. "I didn't know, I swear. If I knew that we....that you and I..." he paused, hanging his head to take a calming breath, "if I knew that we were supposed to be this...god, it would have been so different." Wade dropped to his knees, grabbing his head and rocking back and forth on his heels, "I would have loved you, (Y/N). I would have...I...I do, okay? Will that make you open your eyes now? Can you please open your eyes, or just give me something? Anything?"

Wade sat in silence, watching the rise and fall of your breaths, the stillness in your expression that turned his stomach, wishing for the smallest twitch of an eyelid or the curl of your lips to let him know that you had heard him. To let him know that you loved him back. When you finally appeased him, and when you answered his plea, he would have done anything to take it back, to deny your love for him and turn you away because it wasn't the answer he wanted, and it would have meant that he had more time to win you the way you both deserved but would never know.

Anything to make that piercing, endless, screaming tone stop.