Title: Mercs for Money: The Quest to Save Deadpool's Imaginary Boyfriend (Part 1) 

{The photo above is a picture of Madcap.}

So, first off, a few notes. I'm not quite sure where this story stands, to be honest. It's definitely after the Merc's for Money dumped Wade (in the 2016 Deadpool comics), so maybe a few months after that. Peter is this isn't necessarily the running Amazing Spider-Man comic Peter. Like, they look and act the same, but Peter's not a rich CEO. He works as a genetic engineer/scientist for Tony Stark. He gets pays a decent wage, so he's not living in the slumps, but he's not dead-beat poor either.

Also, I hope you guys are at least a little familiar with the Merc's for Money. But here's a list of them anyway:

Solo - He impersonated Deadpool and accidentally saved an important government figures life (kinda forgot who - maybe the president) to take jobs at Deadpool's pay rate, and piggybacked on the success it gave Wade. Solo's impersonation helped Deadpool become more popular, thus benefiting both mercs, and inspiring Wade to start his Deadpool franchise.

Terror - Terror is an eternal entity that absorbs the talents of others through their dismembered limbs...yeah, that's basically it.

Slapstick - He resembles an animated clown and has the abilities of a slapstick cartoon character, such as one from "Looney Tunes", including warping reality to match that of an animated cartoon. (I got this straight from wikipedia).

Fool Killer (the Gregory P. Salinger one) - takes of the mantle of the last Fool Killer, who basically kills people who are absolute idiots. While with the Mercs for Money, he got himself a psychiatric degree, because he wanted to help rehabilitate villains, and became Deadpool's reluctant therapist.

Stingray - "As soon as he gets out of the water, Stingray is useless. He's like this team's Aquaman, except he can't talk to fish." - Deadpool, from Deadpool (2016) Issue #7. (He was also a secret operative for Captain America to keep tabs on Deadpool - shhh, don't tell anyone.)

Masacre - He is a vigilante who only speaks Spanish. His first appearance was in Deadpool 2016. He's literally referred to as "The Deadpool of Mexico."

And MADCAP (who was also a member of the Mercs for Money at one point) - During an encounter with Deadpool (both of whom like to fight it out with each other because they both have regenerative healing abilities and can't die and are insane) and Thor, Thor's lightning hits them both and disintegrates them. But only Deadpool regenerates. As it turns out, Deadpool and Madcap regenerated together, resulting in Madcap being stuck inside Deadpool's mind (where he is tortured and mock continuously by Deadpool). Eventually, Deadpool's body gets torn in half, and one regenerates as Deadpool and the other as Madcap. Later, Madcap joins the Merc's for Money, feigning innocence (when really his time in Deadpool's mind completely screwed him up more than he was before). He ends up impersonating Deadpool in that time, attacking the other Mercs for Money and used his power to cause chaos and havoc in New York City in Deadpool's name. Deadpool stops him, but Madcap still hates him and wanted to completely and utterly ruin his life and cause him nothing but pain. :D

And, of course, Deadpool (and you all should know about him).

NOTE: THIS ONE-SHOT ARC WILL HAVE EXPLICIT LANGUAGE BECAUSE OF DEADPOOL AND THE MERC'S FOR MONEY. THEY DO SWEAR AND CURSE A LOT. 

Anywho, lesson over! Enjoy the beginning of this fic!

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Something's wrong.

Wade can feel it before he even opened the door.

To any outside eyes, there wouldn't be a problem. The door was closed and locked, and the faint hum of the tv inside playing the Golden Girls was still going since Wade left to go grocery shopping. But there was something off about...everything. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was the way the carpet was scuffed and dirty, and not the way it was when he left. Or the new scrapes and grooves on the inside of the door frame. Or the fact that Peter had yet to answer the door.

Wade sent him a message outside asking him to open the door for him when he got there. His arms were so overloaded with grocery bags he could hardly move, let alone grab his own key. Peter wouldn't have ignored him, especially since Wade happened to be carrying their dinner for tonight. And because he also bought a new box of condoms while he was out.

There was a chance Peter got caught up in his experiments again. Sometimes, he'd pop in his headphones and lose himself in his work to the extent that Wade literally had to drag him away to make sure he got the essentials for living. Like eating, sleeping, and seeing actual sunlight. A part of Wade wanted to believe that was the case. But something was off-kilter. Almost like Wade's own brand of spider-sense.

A Spidey-sense.

Peter hadn't even been working on experiments when Wade left. After breaking his leg during a battle with one of his roques a few days ago, Wade had sentenced him to bedrest. He left Peter to reading a book on the couch this afternoon, while he took care of their shopping list. It was some super, nerdy science book that Peter's been gushing about for weeks, so there was no chance he stopped reading it to disobey Wade's doctor orders.

Slowly, Wade crouched and set down the plastic bags as quietly as possible, wincing when the loud crackle filled the empty hallway like a bass speaker. He grabbed the gun holstered to the back of his pants. Holding it confidently, he cautiously retrieved his key from his pocket, unlocked it, gently twisted the doorknob, and flung the door open fast enough that it slammed into the wall inside the apartment, with his gun aimed and ready to shoot.

There was no one inside at first glance, but Wade wasn't taking any chances. He moved swiftly inside, cautiously sidling along the wall.

"Peter?" He called, stepping over the sprawled mess of coats spilling from the hallway closet. When no one answer, he bee-lined for the living room. As soon as he set eyes on the room, his grip on the gun handle tightened. No one was there, but someone had made themselves on home while he was away. The tv was still going, but it had been knocked from its spot against the wall. The couch was on its back and it looked as though someone had flipped the armchair over. The coffee table was in splinters and the cups him and Peter used for coffee that morning were in shards across the floor. Pieces of them across the room, suggesting that they'd been thrown.

The blanket Peter had been curled in was strewn across the floor, and when Wade bent to pick it up, a dark splotch of red stain the front lingered on his fingers. Strangling the clothe, he lurched back to his feet. "Peter? Peter?"

He sprinted out of the living room, jumping over the mess scattered throughout the rest of their apartment, and kicked open the door to their room. It was empty. He searched the bathroom. The kitchen. Even the storage closet. All showed signs of a battle, but none held the person he was looking for.

Wade found himself back in the living room, still clutching the blood-stained blanket with the gun locked in a death-grip in his hand. Who could've done this? He hadn't been gone that long. Barely an hour.

Peter wasn't easy to sneak up on. Even Wade had a hard time catching him unaware. No one could've jumped him without his spider-sense speaking up about it. Whoever it was, Peter had obviously fought back. He could fight better than the average man, even with a broken leg, so whoever had done this knew what they were doing. Especially if they actually managed to take him down.

But where was he now? Who the fuck had the balls to come into Wade's apartment and fight his injured boyfriend? While he was out on a grocery run, no less?

With a furious growl, Wade threw the blanket on the floor and resisted the urge to shoot the entire load of his gun into the soft downy of the Avengers-themed fabric. He did kick a chunk of the table across the room though and would've probably punched a hole in the couch if not for the soft and pleasant ding of his phone, announcing that he had a text message.

Digging it out of his pocket, he looked at the screen to see who was messaging him. And scrambled to unlock it when he saw who it was from.

It was a message from Peter.

Baby Boii: Hello DP, nice to see you again. Like what I did with the place?

This...wasn't Peter. Not the person texting him at least. There was no familiarity in the way the message was crafted. Peter wasn't much of a grammar freak when it came to messages, and used just as many abbreviations as Wade did. Besides, the tense of the message suggested it was coming from an acquaintance.

'Nice to you again.' So someone Wade knew, not Peter. Someone he hadn't seen in a while.

U not bby boi. Who dis? Wade punched into the phone, doing his best not to crack the screen with the pressure of his fingers.

It took less than a minute for a new message to appear on the screen.

Baby Boiii: An old friend.

Baby Boiii: I have to say I'm surprised with you.

Baby Boiii: What are you doing with someone like this?

A picture followed and this time the screen did crack in Wade's grip.

It's Peter. The picture is dark and musty looking, and there's something familiar about his surroundings, but he'd know that mound of brown hair and determined eyes anywhere. He's in the same Deadpool shirt he was wearing this morning, only it's now crumpled, dirty, and stained with blood. His arms were bound above his head in a way that suggested he was hanging from someplace. A gruesome cut on his forehead left a large trail of blood down his face, where he was glaring fiercely at the camera with his mouth gagged.

Baby Boiii: What a beautiful creature.

Baby Boiii: Managed to snag a pretty one, didn't you DP. ;)

Wade has to take several deep breathes before the red in his vision clears. He had no mercy on the little buttons on his phone as he typed:

What do u want

The next message takes longer this time.

Baby Boiii: Damn, he is important isn't he. No threats. No promises of death. I'm surprised DP. I expected rage and all I get is cooperation. LOL. He has a nice and tight noose on your dick, I see. I bet he is nice and tight. ;) 3

"Imma kill 'em," Wade muttered. "Imma kill em' dead. All dead. Completely dead. So dead not even Death is gonna know what the fuck to do with im'."

Baby Boiii: Oh, that might be harder than you think. I'm kind of hard to kill. You should know.

Wade froze, feeling a dark tingle scratch up his spine.

Baby Boiii: That's right, I'm watching you DP. Look at you. You look so mad. So confused. It's been so long since I've seen your ugly face.

Baby Boiii: It reminds me of how much I hate you.

Wade straightened, looking around the room. Everything is such a mess, it wouldn't be hard to stash a camera here in the clutter. He didn't like being watched. Didn't like knowing he was being watched either. It rubbed him the wrong way. Like sandpaper on a dick.

When nothing stands out to him right away, he slowly turned back around, took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and typed.

WHAT do u want

Baby Boiii: Just your complete and utter pain. That's not too much to ask, is it?

Baby Boiii: Oh, and right off the bat, I wouldn't suggest contacting anyone.

Baby BoiIi: Not your Mercs for Money. Not your Avenger buddies. Not even the X-Men,

Baby Boiii: I'll know. I'm watching. And if you do, I won't hesitate cutting up this pretty little piece of ass you've snagged yourself and sending you back his remains.

Who the hell is this guy? Wade had a near endless list of people gunning for him, but he's been so below the radar lately, no one came to mind. Who'd he piss off recently? He's helped the Avengers with a few infiltration jobs, but he's spent most of his time patrolling with Peter and catching D-listers (none of whom had the skill to pull something like this off).

Who is this

Baby Boiii: I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet.

Baby Boiii: Anyway, I've got to go. Talk to you later, DP. ;)

Baby Boiii: Boop.

That's when Wade feels as though he just took a grenade to the chest. His lungs freeze as his eyes locked onto the last message.

Boop.

No. It couldn't be.

His phone dings again with a new picture.

There's a new person in this one, standing next to Peter. He's wearing a bright, flowy looking jumpsuit, half of it a painfully garish yellow and the other half pinstriped purple. The yellow mask molded to his face stretched gruesomely, almost cartoonishly, with a large, joker-esque smile reaching ear to ear. A pair of wild, sadistic-looking eyes stare at Wade through the screen. A purple cape hangs on their shoulders, topped off with a large, wide-brimmed purple hat. He has one arm cast over Peter, smooshing their faces close together, the psycho's lips pursed in a kissy-fashion, while the other holds the camera at a selfie angle. Peter's face is scrunched up and wincing like the angle is putting him in pain.

Baby Boiii: xoxoxoxo - Madcap.

That's when Wade throws his phone on the ground and shoots every bullet in his gun into the small device. It doesn't even get to three before it's in pieces, but Wade doesn't care and doesn't stop pulling the trigger till bullets don't come out anymore. When it clicks, he hurled the empty gun across the room.

"Dammit to fucking hell," he roared, kicking the couch out of his way as he stormed back to the bedroom. He threw open the closet and dug through the weapons stashed inside. He's in his suit before he even realized he had it in his hands and was strapping every possible weapon he could get his hands on onto his body.

His mind is in an upheaval, rolling up and down like turbulent waves, soaking the hard bone of his skull in bloodlust and rage. He thought he killed Madcap. That bastard was supposed to be dead. Gone. Ciao. Bye-bye! See you in hell, you garish motherfucker!

When did he come back? Why did he have to rope Peter into this? Why couldn't the lunatic come storming at Wade and blowing him to bits, like a good pyscho?

Because he was too much like Deadpool. That's why. He knows the best way to get under Wade's skin. Last time, he had completely poisoned Ellie, Preston, and her husband (and basically anyone Wade came in contact with), killed dozens of innocent people and sent Wade goose chase after goose chase just to mess with him. Of course, he couldn't stick to the rules.

His movements are quick and swift as he slammed a new magazine into the gun. Admittedly, Mad Cap's crazy schemes of revenge weren't all without fault. He had been stuck in Wade's mind for a while, and Wade hadn't exactly been nice to him while he was stuck in there.

Because he just had to go making a fucking monster out of his own insanity. Good job, you motherfucking screw-up.

And now Peter was in the clutches of that pyscho. Oh, when Wade got his hands on Madcap again, that lunatic was going to wish he had stayed locked up in Wade's brain. Nobody snuck into his home and hurt his boyfriend like that. Nobody.

Slamming the closet shut again, he went to the nightstand next. He rummaged through an assortment of knives, spare web-shooters, and a few empty cartridges, before resurfacing with a new phone. This was one decorated with little bloodied stickers of knives, guns, and unicorns that, on a normal day, he would've found adorable. Today, it made him want to snap it in half. He flipped it open but his finger hovered over the contact button.

Wait. He couldn't do this. Not here at least. Madcap had bugged the living room, who's to say he didn't bug the bedroom while he was at it. This very minute he could be holding a knife to Peter's throat, waiting for Wade to press the call button and give him a reason to end the life of someone he loved.

With a growl, Wade tossed it back in the drawer. Looks like it was a solo mission. He couldn't bring in the rest of the Merc's, despite how he'd seriously appreciate a little back-up. Madcap was his to kill, but having a few extra bodies to shield Peter wouldn't have been bad.

But where to start? Wade wandered back to the living room and stopped in the middle of the clutter with his chin in his hand. It'd only be an hour since he left, and judging by the mess it left behind, it had taken some time to take down Peter (as it should be. Hell yeah, Baby Boy! Kick some ass with that beautifully casted leg!). So, Madcap couldn't have taken them far.

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have shot his phone dead. As much as those pictures made his blood boil, there could've been clues. Full on Scooby-Doo and the gang stylin' it. Madcap liked to play games. He enjoyed toying with Wade's mind and luring him to different places.

From what he could remember, Peter was somewhere dark. Kind of cold looking, if he were being honest. Peter was hanging from somewhere, arms bound with a bunch of silly looking ropes, so Madcap must've come prepared. It couldn't have been very high up, cause Madcap had been standing almost level with him too. Wade scrubbed at his chin and ran a hard hand over his face.

He just needed to calm down and think. The old Deadpool would've gone in a fritz, throwing a tantrum, and raging. That's what Madcap would want. But Wade's gotten better now. Been through whole characters development arcs. He could do this. He just needed to keep a cool head. Peter was counting on him.

"Okay, okay, okay," he muttered, massaging the temples of his head. "Come on you fucker, think. It has to be somewhere close by. It's gotta be dark, kinda cold, with plenty of short places to tie people up at." He stopped and slapped a hand over his face. "The basement, you idiot!"

He jumped over the upturned couch and sprinted out through the door, nearly tripping over the groceries still outside, and bolted down the hallway. He took the stairs down four at a time, fell and broke his ankle and wrist once, but kept going till he was charging in through the basement door. It was mostly dark, sans a single, flickering lightbulb from the ceiling, and chilly from the lack of the buildings attendants using the furnace.

Dark, almost nondistinct splatters of blood led him to a far corner near the back. Wade sped up when the bound form of a person appeared in the shadows, heart lifting. Only to fall back to Earth. His jaw clenched, teeth cracking, as he pulled a knife out of his boot and cut down the inflatable dummy hanging from the pipes. The plastic face had a patch of brown hair crudely drawn on it with a matching frowny face and a single tear running down its cheek. A piece of paper with the words: Oh, you just missed me, Wade! was taped to the chest.

On the ground, just beneath it, a single word was drawn on to the floor. Boop.

Wade blinked at it, then slammed the foot of his heel into it so hard, the bone rattled. He slammed it again and again and again until he heard a crack from inside his boot and the rest of the appendage brightened with crazy pain. He tossed the dummy to the side as he limped out of the room, fishing through his pockets just before he made it out of the door.

He retrieved the small black phone from his pouch. It's a good thing he had one stashed on his Deadpool suit too. At least Mad Cap saw him throw the other one away, so he thought Wade wasn't going to try and contact anyone. Unfortunately for Madcap, Wade had a few of his own tricks up his sleeve, and maybe a bit of back-up was a good idea after all.

He didn't hesitate to press the call button this time. Almost instantly, he got 6 different voice-mails. Wade sighed, thumping his head against the door frame. He waited until the phone beeped before he started his message.

"Hey, Merc's o' mine. Long time no kill. So, I know you're all still super pissed at me, and for good reason, but I'm politely asking you to toss that shit aside for one second. See, I kinda landed myself in a pickle. You all remember Madcap right? Super weirdo with a cheese face to match my own. So, turns out he's back and he's still not over his grudge - can you imagine? We all know how much he sucked last time and you all know how irresistibly charming I am." the phone beeped, signaling that his message would be coming to a close. "So, um, call me. We can all do a little mission together, for old times sake, and..." he tapered off and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Look, guys, I don't expect much help. I don't deserve it. But...he - he came out of nowhere. I wasn't even expecting it. He broke into my apartment, and..." Wade swallowed, "Alright, so, thing is, he kidnapped my boyfriend. I'm not even joking. I know you're probably laughing at that Slapstick, but yes, I do have a boyfriend and he's gone. Madcap has him, and...I don't think I can get him back without your guys' help. Please...I - I don't want to lose him. He's one of the last few goods things I have in my life...please..." the phone beeped, assured him that his message was recorded, and Wade dropped his arm. He thumped his head more insistently into the door frame, getting rougher and rougher the more seconds ticked on.

Of course, they weren't going to help him. He hardly deserved it thanks to the way he treated them. They had every right to ignore him and his request. "A true testament to the shit-pile you are," Wade muttered savagely to himself. "Good job fucking up everything in your life."

He had no idea where to look now. Madcap was good at covering his tracks. He learned from the best, after all. Wade wouldn't get any clues unless Madcap gave them to him. And he couldn't reach out to many people. For one, Madcap was watching. The phone call he just made, alone, was a risky move. Besides, it's not like the Avengers were still chummy with him. Same with the X-Men. They held a mild tolerance, at best, but if he came within a mile proximity of either group, Madcap would put a bullet in Peter's head.

Peter was injured too. He couldn't fight to the best of his abilities. Then again, there's a chance Madcap didn't know Peter was Spider-Man. That could be an advantage. Then again, if Peter fought back, it'd have to be a calculated move. If he was caught again by Madcap, mid-escape-attempt, things could look worse for him. Madcap was an absolute nut-job, there's no telling what he would do.

Ugh, Wade hated feeling like this. For years, he suffered mental trauma, holes in his memories, and uncertainty for who he was. He's stumbled around in a blind haze killing and maiming anyone who got close until finally getting his act together and going global with his Deadpool franchise. But the feeling that he was teetering on a thin wire never quite left him. One small breeze could tip him over and he'd be falling.

Plummeting back into his old life. Another piece of shit in an otherwise shitty world. Just when things were looking up. Just when he found a person who brought something akin to life back to his human-husk of death and blood.

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Wade almost didn't notice it when the phone started buzzing. He froze, head mid-thump, and slowly looked down. The phone rushed so quickly to his ear, it was pretty sure he strained something. But he also couldn't care less. "Yes? Yes? Hello?"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU HAD A BOYFRIEND?" Fool Killer demanded over the receiver, and Wade nearly wept with relief.

Like a domino effect, more lines connected to their joint call and more voices filled Wade's ear.

"You're lying," Slapstick's irritatingly high voice accused, "I want picture proof! Who'd ever date you? It's a scam!"

"It is unlikely that you'd find someone who could handle...well, you." Terror agreed.

"Pero sí que sonaba tan serio en su mensaje," Masacre pointed out.

"But he didn't sound pretty sincere, I guess," Stingray said.

"Eso es lo que dije."

"Yeah, it's weird," Solo grumbled. "And for the record, I'm only calling back because I'm curious about this boyfriend. I mean, who the hell would willingly put up with Deadpool?"

"I WANT PICTURE PROOF!" Slapstick screeched.

"Shaddup, Slapstick, you're giving me a headache already." Terror snapped.

"Make me you Walking-Dead-extra wannabe!"

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME YOU CARTOON BASTARD?!"

Wade was grinning so wide, he was pretty sure he split his cheeks. He ran a hand over his face, leaning his head against the frame. "You beautiful sons' of bitches. Yes. Even you Slapstick, you freakish looney-toon, you."

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And done! This book was supposed to be one one-shot, but I ended up making more with no place to put them, so voila. Now I have a Spideypool one-shot book. This is gonna be great. 

I'm kinda excited to write the dynamic between the Mercs for Money. Like, I'm worried I'll write them wrong, but I'm also excited to try it out.

Anywho, hoped you like! See you next chapter!