The Adeventures of DeadPool (and Young Justice)

Project Mercenary, 15 Years In:

"Fire!"

The loud bangs of bullets firing from a pistol filled the room. Currently, the boy known simply as Project Mercenary was holding participating in his usual gun training. Today it was pistols and they were having him shoot moving targets, some that were shaped as humans and others just normal paper targets. Each shot fired from the weapon hit the targets spot on, whether it be a bullseye or a headshot.

Watching from the other room was Luthor and Desmond. The latter of the two looked on with a smile on his face while the former wore an impassive expression.

"As you can see Mr. Luthor, Project Mercenary's overall skill with most weapons is simply phenomenal. Most soldiers do not possess the accuracy average that this one does," Desmond spoke proudly, as if the scientist was responsible for all the skills the boy now possessed.

The bald headed was barely listening to the man ramble on. He knew that Desmond was full of shit. But his mind was full of scientific knowledge that was not found in many these days. He knew that Project Mercenary was becoming a highly skilled individual. He attributed to two reasons: the first would be the constant training and teaching that the boy had been receiving nonstop for the past 15 years. The second reason had to be because the boy was a clone of Deathstroke. The natural killer instinct and skill he possessed was found very much in the world's greatest assassin.

In a way, Project Mercenary was the ideal result of an individual that is created through both Nature and Nurture.

But Luthor was not interested in what he was seeing at the moment. "Any trained soldier can handle a pistol one handed and make his mark."

The scientist next to him nodded while saying, "That is very true Mr. Luthor. That is why I believe a show of two handed proficiency needs to be showed." Desmond then reached down and pressed a button attached to a microphone, before speaking into said microphone, "Project Mercenary, please move onto to the two handed program."

The scarred boy turned the glass window and simply nodded before picking up another pistol off the table. He then loaded it with the magazine before reloading his first pistol. Once more, the targets started to move all over the room. However, as soon as the program started, bullets began to fly through the air. Unlike the one handed exercise, the boy know possessed two weapons, making the program in a way easier as he did not have to aim with one gun for every target. The boy could simply shoot two targets at a time. What more, like the previous trial, each shot was a direct hit.

By the time all the targets had been shot, bullet cartridges were rolling around at the boy's feet. Without saying anything, the boy began to reload both pistols.

Now Luthor was impressed. Not only did the boy shoot all his targets, not once did he reload. That might be akin to having two pistols, but still, in a gun fight, killing your opponent before you have to reload is a necessity.

Whether or not it was showing on his face, Desmond picked up on the business man's delight. "As you can see, with one pistol, the results are good. But with two pistols on hand, Project Mercenary becomes something more like his 'father'."

"Indeed," Luthor replied back coolly, his voice not betraying his emotions. This kind of skill could only be seen in a few individuals, and one of them certainly was Slade Wilson. The business man then walked towards the door connecting the gun range and the room the two was in before placing his hand on the scanner. Once the door was opened, Luthor walked in and began to head to the young boy.

As Desmond saw this, his eyes widened. "Mr. Luthor, please wait!" He rushed out the room to catch up to Luthor. "Please don't go near Project Mercenary while he has guns! We have no idea what he would do!"

But Luthor ignore these warnings and continued towards the boy, clapping his hands slowly as he was closer. The boy, hearing the claps turned around and watched the bald head man walk towards him. After he was about a few feet away from the boy, Luthor stopped walking and looked down at the boy in front of him. For a couple of seconds, the two individuals observed each other.

If Luthor had to think about it, this was the closest he had been near the boy since meeting the child that floated in a tube fifteen years ago. But he smiled and acted as if he had been close to the boy for all these years. With his hands behind his back, Luthor said, "I am certainly impressed by your skills thus far Project Mercenary."

"…" The scarred boy did not reply or speak back to his 'creator' and benefactor. He only looked at the man in front of him.

Raising an eyebrow, Luthor continued to speak, "I can see that none of our time and resources has gone to waste with you."

Once more, the clone did not say anything. The only thing he did was give the man a tilted head of confusion, as if to say he had no idea what the man was speaking of."

Now, Luthor was getting frustrated. He knew the boy could speak. He had heard him speak before, specifically to one of the members of League of Assassins (he refused to call it the Shadows, because that was just stupid), so why was he now suddenly mute. Sighing, the business man tried to reign in his temper before saying, "I am allowing you to speak, so it would be very much appreciative if you would-"

"Why am I called that?"

Both Luthor and Desmond were taken aback by the scarred boy's words. The fact that he even said anything to them was surprising, but the fact that he asked something like this shocked them.

Regaining his composure, Luthor asked, "I beg your pardon?"

"Why do you just call me Project Mercenary?" the boy asked in true confusion, "I mean, that is just the name of the program I am a part of, so why don't I have a name?"

Desmond was the first to speak up, "Project Mercenary, Mr. Luthor has neither the time nor the responsibility to answer that question. Your purpose is not to ask those kinds of-"

"If I want the opinion of a poor man's Baxter Stockman, I'll you doc," was the quick reply from the boy who did not even spare the doctor a sparing glance as he said this.

This statement alone caused the scientist to sputter and try to come up with a response to the rude words of the clone.

Luthor on the other was amused. It was obvious the clone was beginning to develop a personality far away from his origin's own. But this was something a bit different than what he expected. "Baxter…Stockman?"

"Yeah," the clone replied back quickly, "You know that scientist the evil villain keeps employing and taking body parts from every time he fails. Or the one that becomes some sort of human monster hybrid, sort of like Goldblum's movie, only better." He then stopped for a second before his facial expression changed from joy to pondering. "Well it's true. Not my fault the guy can barely act for shit."

Now Luthor had no idea what the clone was doing or even saying. But, he knew that this was going to be constantly brought up and he would be bugged every time he came to observe the project, so the best option was to snip it in the bud quickly. Smiling as kindly as he could, Luthor said, "My boy, you do indeed have a name."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Well," the boy said, tapping his foot and crossing his arms expectantly, "I'm waiting."

Before he even really thought about it, Luthor already had a name in mind for the clone. "Wade," he began, "Your name is Wade Wilson."

"Wade…Wilson…" the boy said, letting the words flow off his tongue, as if to see how the words sound to him.

"Yes, Wade Wilson," the business man continued, "You are Wade Wilson of Project Mercenary."

"Not a bad name Luthy!" the clone replied jubilantly.

"…Luthy?" Luthor asked while he furrowed an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I mean, doc here calls you 'Mr. Luthor', but I really can't say something that long, so I think you are best known as Luthy!"

The bald headed man mustered all the strength he could to prevent his eyebrow from twitching. Being called 'Luthy' reminded him of a certain insane clown in Gotham. Though if he had to say, this boy was much more sane than that lunatic. But still, he did not like being called 'Luthy'. But, he would play along. After all, if you want to control a child, you let them play their games. So, all Luthor did was smile before turning around and head for the door. However, before he left the gun range, he looked at the newly named Wade and said, "Do keep up the good work…Wade." With that final statement, Luthor left the room, with Desmond following behind him, muttering to himself as he did so.

As soon as they were out of sight of the clone, Luthor turned towards the scientist, sending him a cold look as he did so. "Would mind explaining why he is so outspoken Doctor?"

Shrinking under the glare that was second only to the Dark Knight's own glare, Desmond said, "W-well, you see sir, these past few years, Project Mercenary has been developing a personality that is bit too…rebellious. We fear that in a couple more, he will become too uncontrollable. What you saw just now was him being passive. He sometimes hits and even bites most people who stands that close to him or even touch him. And there was the fact that he had guns in his hands. That was what I was trying to warn you about. He is becoming…too unpredictable."

Luthor rubbed his chin in thought as he heard this. As he did this, a smirk appeared on his face. "Perhaps that is not all bad."

"What?" the scientist asked completely stupefied at what he just heard.

"Think about it doctor, if he becomes unpredictable, just think about how he fares against his opponents, especially one such as Deathstroke, who can predict one's next move. If…Wade becomes unpredictable in battle, his chances of success only increase."

"But…how would you be able to control him?"

"That is for you to figure out doctor. And do be warned," Luthor said, his voice turning cold as he loomed over the man, "If he cannot be controlled, then perhaps I will listen and do just what this 'villain' did to this Baxter Stockman. Understood?" His answer came in the form of a meek headshake. "Excellent. Do keep up the good work doctor. If you excuse me, I have matters to attend to." Luthor then turned around and began to walk away from the scientist.

As he watched the bald headed man leave, Desmond merely scowled at the man. 'One day Luthor,' he thought angrily, 'Once I finish the Blockbuster formula…then we will see who is Stockman-damn it! Now I'm saying it! I don't even know who that is!' Shaking his head in frustration, the scientist turned and walked in the opposite direction that Luthor walked, muttering to himself as he did so.

Project Mercenary, 16 Years In:

"Say it."

"NEVER!"

"Just say it Wade."

"ONLY WHEN YOU KISS MY ASS!"

"I can stay here all day."

"SO CAN I!"

The assassin known as Chesire, real name Jade Nguyen, smirked as she watched the scarred boy struggle below her. Since they had first met in the brutal stealth killing exercise four years ago, she had been called in several times to help teach the clone more about hand to hand combat as well as other fighting skills. It made sense seeing as she was one of the Leagues' very best assassins; the only one better than her was…that man. The black haired girl scowled at the very thought of that man. Every time she thought he was out of her life, BAM, he's right there. But that was not what was important. What was important was savoring just how helpless the scarred boy was at the moment.

Currently, she was on top of him, with the clone lying on his face, while she held one of his arms up and prevented him from getting up. His other arm was flying all over the place, trying to grab her and get her off. However, she positioned herself in a spot where he could not reach her. Watching how desperately Wade tried to turn the tables on her reminded her of a mouse trying to get away from underneath a cat's paw. It was glorious.

Deciding to pile on the pressure, Chesire cranked the boy's arm, forcing the boy to scream out a little in pain. "Oh, does that hurt Wade? Maybe if you give up, I'll kiss it better."

After a few seconds of banging his head on the metal floor, the scarred boy cried out, "ALL RIGHT, UNCLE! UNCLE!"

Hearing the sounds of surrender, the assassin released her prey and got off him. The clone turned over to his butt and quickly cradled his arm and whimpered in pain. Chesire only rolled her eyes at this action. "Grow up Wade; you have suffered way worse than a hurt arm."

The boy looked up at the girl and glared at her before saying, "Yeah, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I'm not totally numb to all kinds of pain."

The girl merely shrugged at this statement. "Well maybe if you spent more time concentrating on the fight and not talking, you wouldn't be in this mess."

As he heard this, Wade began to chuckle to himself. "Oh, I was concentrating; just not on the fight."

Furrowing an eyebrow in interest, Chesire asked, "Oh, then what were you concentrating on?"

"Getting these!" the boy exclaimed, holding up a piece of clothing. Judging from the looks of it, it was a black lacy pair of panties. But where did he-

Her hand immediately went to her crotch and she began to pat before giving the smirking boy a deadpan stare. "How did you even get those-"

"Trade secret Jade!" the boy shouted jubilantly as he proceeded to put the article of clothing on his head like a hat.

While looking not at all amused by the clone's actions, on the inside, Chesire was smirking. The fact that he had spent more time focusing on a way to remove her panties without her knowing, while stupid, is rather impressive. If he only put that kind of thought and effort into his fighting, he'd be good and near unstoppable. Well, not unstoppable really, more like he would be one of the best. But, that was neither here nor there.

"Can I keep these?" Wade asked innocently while he pointed to the clothing on his head.

Shaking her head, the black haired girl walked over to the boy and yanked the panties off his head and proceeded to pocket them. Thankfully, she was wearing pants, so it was not an issue. Once she returned to HG, she would put them back on.

"Party pooper."

"Their mine so it's not really a party."

"What if there was cake?"

"Do you have cake?"

"No…the scientist say I am not allowed to eat cake. Makes me all crazy."

"More than you already are?"

This why I like her. She gets us!

Yes, but there is also the issue of whether or not we end on the same side or if she sees us in a romantic way.

"Guys, we are trying to have a moment here!" Wade shouted to the air, looking annoyed as he did so.

Hey, we are just trying to help.

Yeah, not like you're gonna get anything in your pants for a while with your situation!

"The voices and you arguing again?"

"Yep."

"What about this time?"

"Whether or not we are gonna hook up."

In the four years that she has known the boy, Chesire had come to learn that the boy possessed voices in his head. Now while most people would be creeped out by this, the black haired girl could honestly not care about this fact. She was not exactly the essence of sane herself, but then again, she did not talk to herself. Plus, it was funny watching him react when he spoke with his voices. The only thing she wished was that she could hear the other end of the conversation.

Lying on her back, Chesire looked up at the wall before saying, "I'm sure you've heard."

Following her lead, Wade leaned back as well as he replied, "Yep."

"This may be the last time for a long while that I see you."

"Yep."

"That means that we won't be seeing each other for a long time."

"I know that."

"So why are you so calm?"

"Because," the boy began sitting up a little, "I know that the failed Doc Brown is not happy with me being 'uncontrollable'. I understand that his little parasites don't control me like he hopes."

Man, those things were annoying too!

Quite, not to mention rude.

"And I know that he is focusing on pitching some other project. I know that. Hell, they know that. But, what they don't know but that I do is that I'm not going to be in here for long."

Sitting up to meet the boy face to face, Chesire raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I can't say much, but just know I'm going to be celebrating my independence day come next year." He then laid back down again, his expression turning serious, a rare sight to see in the boy. "So yeah, they might not focus on me anymore, but that will be there biggest mistake since they decided to make me. I may not know what my true purpose is, but like hell am I going to stay here and wait for it to come to me."

Chesire honestly wanted to say something at the boy's words. But what could she say. His words alone were a bit too cryptic. The only thing she understood from them was that Wade was planning on busting out of Cadmus come next year. Now, normally, she would tell her master about this. After all, he is one of the biggest investors in Wade's development and for him to lose the future assassin would be a huge blow. But…

"I won't tell if you don't."

If she was never asked about what he said, then she never heard it at all.

Looking over to the black haired girl, the heavily scarred boy smiled at her. "Thanks Jade," he replied. He then looked down before focusing on the girl again. "You know, since this is the last time I will see for a while, I am going to do something stupid."

Chesire furrowed her eyebrows at this statement. "Oh, and what woul-MMPH?!"

Before the black haired assassin could finish speaking, Wade kissed her right on the lips. It was short, but effective. While only their lips touched, Wade was skipping for joy on the inside. 'All right, first base!' A few seconds later, the clone pulled back and gave a cheeky grin to the girl before saying, "OK, you can hit me now." He then closed his eyes and braced for the attack. But it never came. Opening one eye, he saw that the girl was giving him a sly look.

Uh oh.

Uh oh.

'Uh oh.'

The girl then grabbed the scarred and hairless head of the boy before bring it in and crashing her lip on his this time around. Honestly, while Wade should have been jumping for joy even more, he was honestly surprised he had not lost his nutsack or even gotten his head punted off. 'Wait a minute…does this mean…?'

A few seconds later, Chesire pulled back herself and stood up, giving her the boy a coy look as she did so. She then turned around and began to walk away, sashaying her hips as she did so. The girl then looked over her shoulder before saying, "Hope that lasts you until we meet again." With that said, the girl continued her walk out of the room, leaving a gob smocked boy behind.

Dude! She wants us!

While I most normally disagreeing with you, I do agree she indeed wants us.

Wade only just had a dreamy expression as he watched the girl leave. That may be the only kiss that the two would ever share, but it was one he was happy to get and share with her. But for now, his new goal was to simply wait.

Project Mercenary, 17 Years In, July 4, 2010:

As the boy known as Wade Wilson, codenamed Project Mercenary sat on his bed, he looked at the calendar he had been given for his 'birthday'. He uses quotes for that word as it was less a birthday and more of a reminder of how much Desmond hated him. That fine, Luthy gave him just what he wanted: a calendar that had unicorns on it. Most would think that would be the stupidest gift, but for Wade, it was perfect. It was a way to keep track of the days. A way to keep track of time. It was a way to let him know that today was finally the day.

For today was his "Independence Day".

Finally, after 17 years of being stuck in this hell hole of a lab, he would be free. He'd be free to do anything and everything he desired. He'd go to amusement parks, play video games, and find some actual food!

But, he also had one goal that mattered above: find Deathstroke. However, while he was happy that the day he had hoped for all these years had come at last, he first needed to get out of his cell to get out. Then, he would need to get some…'tools' to get out. After all, you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.

Uh…I thought we were gonna kill everyone here?

Yes, we are. However that last line was meant as a metaphor. Something you rarely know of.

"Guys, do you mind?" Wade asked the voices that swam in his head. "I'm trying to be all dramatic."

Well then 'Mister Thespian', how do you even plan to get out in the first place?

Yeah, Desmond has this place, especially your cell, on high alert lock down. So how you gonna get out?

Before he could answer, the blaring sounds of an alarm rang through the boy's room.

"INTRUDER ALERT INTRUDER ALERT! ALL PERSONAL ON STANDBY!"

All Wade did was smirk as he heard this. "That's how."