**??? ???-?, ?? ??? ???, ???, ???**
???
Ah, fuck.
He didn't know what had happened to him, but he was pretty sure the whole "waking up de-aged in a lab tube" package deal wasn't standard procedure. He had a fuzzy, distant memory of a life—something with a bar, a friend, and being a lot taller.
He glanced at his now small hands. Wait, that wasn't right.
'Am I a kid?.
Fuck!
He vaguely remembered having a life, something resembling normalcy, if the faint recollection of living outside this tank could be trusted.
The lingering scent of Daddy's cigar smoke and Mama's wildflower shampoo wrapped around him like a blanket as they tucked him in, her gloved fingers brushing his hair back, his rough knuckles tugging the covers up to his chin.
Was that his parents? He wonders. They look really familiar.
He glanced at the reflection from the glass, he was probably about 10 or 12 years old now.
It doesn't feel right.
He was sure he used to be a young adult. He had fuzzy memories of drinking in the bar with his friend with an adult body, celebrating great work after a bad day.
(Yep, definitely an adult before!)
/He was 21 years old at least./
Is he in those transmigrations or reincarnation fic? He hopes he isn't in one of the bad ones. Wait, how does he know this?
And why did he feel he had already done this before?
(That's because this is a rewrite)
/One that hopefully the author would complete, at least until the Avengers arc…/
It wasn't long until another memory hit him.
'Wait! I am not done ye-'
The scent of cordite and cheap whiskey hung heavy in the air as he put a bullet between the eyes of a Yakuza lieutenant in Tokyo. Blood sprayed across neon-lit puddles.
'Woaah, that's so cool!!!'
(Yep, we are cool!!! We did a number on that yakuza gang)
/Wait? WE???/
(The point is, I think we at least had been kidnapped and experimented on with our memory jumbled up! Maybe even de-aged!)
The point was, he'd been kidnapped. Experiment on. Probably. Oh he also hopes he isn't one of the test tubed babies!
(Don't repeat me! Have your own ideas!)
/Oh, yeah, I mean even an idiot would notice. One didn't naturally get into a tank afterall./
Well, that would be suck.
Another thing he was pretty certain of? The bubbling, feral thirst for blood that surged through him as he looked at the scientists staring back at him. Looking like they wanted to devour him.
/See, there is no way a patient would be looked at with those creepy eyes!/
(Hey! Stop looking ya bunch of pedo! Goddamit, we're probably on one of Epstein's islands!)
Fuck.
'Huh? Isn't that the famous wolverine's claws?'
He stared as sharp, metal claws emerged from his hands as his body reacted as the fluid from the tubes changed colors.
'It hurts…'
(Hey, that's new.)
They looked eerily similar to the Wolverine's claws, ones of his favorites comic book and movie characters.
'Wait—am I in X-23's body?'
(Let's see… Pre-teen?) /Check/.
'Bloodlust?' (Hell yeah, check.)
Feral tendencies? /Well, we did have some body hair despite being a pre-teen,/ (and his hair was really long for a boy). /That's a check./
Wolverine's claws? /Definitely a check./
(No dick?)
He glanced down.
/Still got a dick./ (Phew. Fortuna is with you today dude!)
Okay, maybe he was one of the experiments before X-23.
As he tried to piece things together, another barrage of faint memories hit him. He remembered being born—wait, how the hell did he have a memory of him being born but still being an amnesiac? What kind of lazy writing is this? It felt like a plot hole to him.
(Can I get a better fanfic writer, btw?)
And why did he even know about fanfic writing? Is he in some sickening fucked up fanfic story? Not even a transmigration/reincarnation fiction like a novel but a fanfic?!?!? FUCK!!!
/Well, a fuck up ones, but still a fanfic nevertheless./
(Double Fuck!)
Then another memory hit him.
Pancakes sizzled in the pan, the smells of cinnamon and maple syrup mixing with Daddy's leather jacket hanging by the door and Mama's chamomile tea steaming on the counter—his bare feet swinging under the kitchen table as thunder rumbled outside.
'Hey! Dad looked suspiciously like Hugh Jackman! Wait, he also has claws! My dad is Wolverine!!!'
(Peanut! Wonder what fanfic we are in. X-Men or Deadpool?)
/I hope we are not one of those Weapon XI./
'Fuck.'
(Fuck)
He hoped the Wolverine thought of him as lovingly as he did of Laura/X-23, and not Daken. Please God, Stan Lee, or whoever's the fucker who writing this, let him remember him even if he's also got amnesia.
/I don't think that's not how it works, bub./
'Please we are just a kid! A kid's Make-A-Wish usually comes through!'
/I though that only true for cancer kid?/
'God, if I am Deadpool, I'm gonna have cancer anyway! Am I Deadpool?'
/HE SAID IT FOLKS! HE SAID IT! HE SAID THE TITLE!/
(I wonder who the mom is, anyway?)
A flash of a certain brunette with a white streaks came to his mind.
(Southern Gal huh? We are part cowboy! Coool!)
/Wait a minute… is our mother the motherfucking Rogue?/
(Oh, Wolvie, the FBI's gonna be looking for you! Yer better hide bub!)
/She is 30 years old! you sick fuck!/
He frowned.
/To think so many public figures coming as a pedo this day, what a time to live huh?/
(Release the motherfucking epstein files!!!)
Yeah, he probably had to kill his father when he got out after he got to burn this place down.
Fuck, fight against the Wolverine, the guy probably gonna kill him first.
(But we are unkillable anyway!)
/The other bad news is that he is also unkillable, unless we got that sword…/
But they did look so lovingly at him and each other.
It is possible after all that they got together when his mom was already an adult, like in the comics when she was raised by Mystique in the Brotherhood?
/Oi! Your Ma had been groomed! I'm telling ya bub!/
(But she looks like she's in her early 30s or late 20s, though. Did Logan actually wait that long? What if they did meet when she was of age? Like in the comics? Are you sure we are in the movie's universe? Seems like a different universe to me!)
/Okay, so maybe this is her comic counterpart, even if Wolverine looks like his movie actor. Rogue doesn't look like her actress, though./
He pondered.
/Again, this is a fanfic. They could've met when my mom was an adult./
(But isn't that still wrong? Even if Wolverine looks like he's in his early to mid-30s, he's still, like, a bazillion years old! No matter what those on BookTok or in young adult vampire books might say!)
'How did I know all this but not my own name, I fucking hate the author. What self-discoveries? What love and family?'
He cursed.
'If I didn't know any better, I really do think I'm fucking Deadpool with all this fourth-wall breaking. At least I don't have multiple voices or speech bubbles or boxes that only I can see.'
/Hmm, are you sure about that?/
(Oh, hey! Yeah, we're here. You're not hallucinating. Unless you are. In which case, oops.)
'FUCK, I thought you guys just my thought!'
/We are…/
Great. Now he had Deadpool-style internal monologues.
(Identity theft is no joke, Jim! Millions of families suffer every year…)
'Just shut up and let me think how to escape from here!'
Before he could spiral further, the lab doors hissed open. A smug, silver-haired bastard in a military uniform strode in, William Stryker.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Stryker's grin was all teeth as he examined the tank, especially his claws. "Remarkable. Natural adamantium bonding, just like his father. To think he already mastered how to naturally coat his claws." He turned to a nervous scientist. "And the mother's ability?"
"Affirmartive, sir. The subject is successfully able to fully utilize its victim's power after touching them. Fortunately unlike its mother, because of our experiment, it actually is able to fully control its skin unlike its mother who is only able to touch its father even after the experiment we did with her."
"Good, very good." Stryker's eyes gleamed. "Prep Weapon XI for mission."
Weapon XI? That was Deadpool's fucked-up experiment name. Was he seriously some twisted hybrid of Wolverine, Rogue, and Deadpool's abomination?
'Ew, am I actually that abomination? The author is a sick fuck if he thinks he can make that thing good!'
/I agree, but that could mean we really are a Deadpool variant, though. Wolverine and Rogue's son variant. I guess he wanted us to be Rogue's son so he could write how you got multiple superpowers at once without having the surgeries that could stitch your mouth shut./
("Congrats, kid. You're a fanfic writer's wet dream.")
'I hate my life.'
Heavy doors hissed open, and two guards came wheeled in some kind of a rig. It kinda reminds him of the brainwashing rig they used on Wolverine in X-Men Apocalypse movie, just more sleek and kid size.
Right, he is a kid now.
Fuck.
What to do, what to do...
A steel chair was being bolted to the floor, cuffs waiting for wrists and ankles, cranial brace wired to a cluster of humming machines.
'I am fuck, they gonna brainwashed me!!! This is different from before!!! Where is my power up!'
(FUcK! FuCK! FUUUCK! Are we gonna uncontrollably murder the entire universe again!?!?! It did not go well last time!)
/AGAIN?!?!?/
They strapped him down. Head pinned. Chest tight. Needles slid home into his arms, cool fire spreading through his veins. His body jerked once, then sagged like a puppet on strings.
'They even did drugs on me!!! Not the good one either! I can't do anything! Goddamit! Author! Where the hell is my plot armor!!!'
(Wait, why are they just staring at us? Like the procedure has already been done?)
/I think the drugs that are supposed to brainwash us in the tubes only makes us paralyzed for a while. I think these are our plot armor./
'You are right, I could finally feel my finger again, in that case…'
On the outside, he went still. His eyes glazed over, his face went slack, and he slumped just enough to make it convincing.
Behind the glass, the techs leaned closer.
"The subject is stabilizing."
"Brain patterns are… inconsistent, but compliant enough."
"Maybe because of its age. Weapon X and Subject Zero destabilized under full rig, but he's adapting cleanly."
Stryker's thin smile carved across the window.
'Ugh, gross'