The Adeventures of DeadPool (and Young Justice)

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Icicle Sr. POV

From my position in the corner of the prison yard, I watched the chaos unfold. Wade Wilson—Deadpool, as he so annoyingly liked to remind everyone—was causing yet another scene. He was wrestling Brick of all people, managing to turn a potentially deadly encounter into something resembling a slapstick comedy routine. And now the guards were dragging him away, a half-conscious smirk still plastered on his face after being hit with a sleeping dart.

A clown. A nuisance. A wild card.

But... undeniably dangerous.

It was almost amusing how he always seemed to brush off pain and injury, like his body was made of rubber instead of flesh and bone. Most of the inmates here gave him a wide berth, not because they respected him, but because they didn't know how to deal with someone like him. How do you fight someone who just keeps getting back up? I've seen him snap his own fingers back into place like it was nothing. I've seen him laugh in the face of pain that would cripple anyone else.

I wasn't interested in the theatrics, though. I had a plan—an escape plan. One I hadn't told a soul about. Not yet. I'd recruited a few here and there, those with brute strength or ice abilities that could assist when the time came. People who were reliable, predictable. People I could control.

But wade? He didn't fit into the categories I usually sought out. He wasn't a muscle head, nor was he with powers I could rely on.

The only use I could think of for him now was probably a distraction or... something.

He wasn't someone who followed orders, nor someone I could trust with precision tasks. But that was what made him a perfect diversion.

Wade Wilson was a walking distraction, an unpredictable force of chaos. I didn't need to tell him the plan, didn't even need him to know what was coming. All I had to do was make sure he was in the right place at the right time, causing just enough chaos to keep the guards and waller distracted.

And while they were watching him make a fool of himself, I could move quietly in the shadows, setting things up for the real mission.

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After the little fiasco in the yard, Wade had been dragged off to the punishment cell. Solitary confinement, the box—whatever they wanted to call it this week. It didn't matter

I waited a day, maybe two, just to let the guards think they had him under control. Let them believe their little punishment meant something, that it could actually keep someone like Wade in line. They had no idea.

Once I felt the time was right, I called in a favor. The kind of favor that got things done without questions. My connections in this place were strong, built on years of influence, bribes, and the right alliances. The guards knew better than to ask too many questions when I made requests.

This was one of those requests.

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.

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There I was, in the middle of some very important personal time. You know, a little "me time"—all alone, nothing but my imagination, because hey, what else are you supposed to do in solitary confinement? And just when things were really getting interesting, the door swung open.

"WWWWAAAAAIT A SECOND!" I yelled, scrambling like a cat caught in a bathtub. "Jeez, guys, ever heard of knocking? Privacy? I mean, come on! What if I was in the middle of...praying"

Icicle, his expression somewhere between awkward and uncomfortable, simply stood there for a moment, then muttered, "I... didn't see anything."

With that, he quickly closed the door, as if shutting it could erase the entire incident. The door clicked shut, but the damage was already done. I slumped down, my face buried in my hands, overwhelmed by the sheer level of humiliation.

"Noooooo," I whimpered, tears of embarrassment starting to form. "This can't be happening . Whyyyy !!"

From outside, I could hear the guard's voice, strained and uncertain. "Uh... should we let him out, or...?"

Icicle's voice came through the door, awkward and low. "Give him a moment. He'll be fine."

"Fine?! I'm never gonna be fine again!" I shouted through my hands, my voice cracking with tears. "This is the worst day ever!"

(A.N:wtf did I just wrote...)

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𝓐 𝓕𝓔𝓦 𝓜𝓞𝓜𝓔𝓝𝓣𝓢 𝓛𝓐𝓣𝓔𝓡

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. "Wilson, you're getting out. But know this, I'm doing you a favor now. You owe me one in the future."

I peeked through my fingers, still mortified. "A favor, huh? What exactly does that mean? Am I gonna have to save your cat from a tree or something?"

Icicle's tone was dry but firm. "No cats involved. Just remember this when you're out there."

I swallowed hard, still trying to compose myself. "Fine, fine. I get it. I owe you one. Just... let's never, ever talk about this again, okay?"

Icicle nodded, his expression serious but slightly less awkward. "Agreed. Now...come out."

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