#he will never have the prankster ability as i found him in the wild eating dirt but thats ok i love him

[mic-check-stims]

Stimboard of my son he has every disease

X-X-X X-X X-X-X

[master-sass-blast]

Found Family, Part One --Wade.

I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE. I HAVE BEEN PLANNING THIS PIECES FOR M O N T H S.

Summary: A brief look at yours and Wade’s siblingship, and all that it entails.

Rating: T for adult language, mentions of abuse/mental health issues/suicide, and mild angst.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader and Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson.

@marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie

Some say that the two of you together are a disaster. A cruel joke by the universe unfairly cast upon the rest of society. A recipe for total destruction.

You know better than to buy into what any of the bystanders and onlookers say. The two of you, while admittedly destructive, are like air to each other; without one another, neither of you would be able to survive.

Wade Wilson is your –adoptive—brother, you’re his –adoptive—sister, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The technical beginning of your wonderful sibling-ship with Wade Wilson starts when you help him prank Scott Summers in the dead of night, but that’s not where things really started. At least, not in your view of things.

No, they start the next day, when Wade knocks on your door half an hour before noon. He’s dressed in the most outrageous, neon pink and green Hawaiian shirt, orange camo jeggings, and bright, ‘fuck you’ blue Crocs.

“You eat lunch yet?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the way your eyes are blinking their protest at the amalgamation of colors he’s wearing.

“Uh… no?”

“Great!” He loops an arm around your shoulders and steers you down the hall. “Let’s go get some! I’m buying.”

Dopinder, as it turns out, is a sweet and gentle soul –despite his weird thirst for vengeance. He drives the two of you to a downtown diner –and takes Wade’s weirdness with considerable grace and stride, which isn’t something you’ve witnessed from anyone else yet—and drops you off with the promise to wait until the two of you are done eating.

“I’m pretty sure you’re shafting his ability to earn a livable income,” you say as a waitress seats you and Wade at a booth adjacent to a window.

Wade snorts. “As if. One, I tip him in chicken nuggets, which is more than anyone else ever does. B, I’m helping him get into the mercenary industry, which pays way better than driving a fucking taxi ever will. And four, he doesn’t mind.”

You open your menu, start scanning the options, then freeze.

There’s so many choices –fuck, you’ve never even eaten out at a proper restaurant before. Your parents were too focused on ‘keeping you safe’ to let you have a proper childhood, dammit.

“Don’t know what to do?” The corner of Wade’s mouth turns up when you give him a ‘deer in headlights’ look. “I figured you probably didn’t have much experience with this. Russell didn’t either. Consider today your crash course in ‘how the world works.’”

“…Thanks.” You look down at the menu quickly to hide the tears that are already blurring your vision. “Uh, what do I get?”

“Whatever you want! They do all day breakfast here, and –in my opinion—there’s no bad time to eat a pancake.”

You smile. Pancakes do sound good. You peruse the menu for a moment longer, and the waitress is back to take your orders.

Wade orders a mountain of food. If he notices the way the waitress’s eyes bug out while he rattles off his insanely long order, he doesn’t let it stop him. He just keeps going, and her pen keeps flying across the page of her little book.

When he finishes, she turns to you, looking somewhat shell-shocked. “And for you, sweetheart?”

You copy Wade’s method of ordering –but not the length of his order. “Pancakes, bacon on the side, extra maple syrup, please.”

The look of relief on her face is almost comical as she jots that down. She promises to have everything out “as quick as possible,” then takes your menus and walks away.

Wade grins at you. “Look at you. You’re a natural!”

You can’t help but grin back.

You spend the rest of the day with Wade –and Dopinder, since he has to drive the two of you around. Wade takes you to various stores, having you buy yourself something –a book, a movie, a scarf—at each place so you can get used to interacting with people and handling monetary transactions.

You’re touched in a way that you can’t begin to describe. Sure, Professor Xavier and his team of mutants can help you get your mutation-related abilities under control, but no one’s offered to help you integrate into the real world yet. It’s like Wade’s thrown you a life-line you didn’t realize you needed.

When Dopinder drops the two of you off at the mansion, Colossus is waiting for you on the front step, arms crossed over his massive chest and a disapproving frown set on his face. “Taking young ones of property without permission is not allowed, Wade. You know this.”

“Okay, first of all, she’s not a ‘young one;’ she’s over eighteen, which means she’s allowed to come and go as she pleases. Even I know enough law stuff to know that. Secondly—”

“We’ll try to give you a head’s up next time, Colossus,” you interject before things can too far out of hand. “Sorry for making you worry.”

His expression softens considerable as his gaze switches over to you. “That is reasonable. Did you have nice day out?”

You smile and nod. “Yeah. Wade showed me around New York. It was cool.”

“See? I’m cool. Relax, Chrome Dome. I know what I’m doing.”

Colossus shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “We will make X-Man of you yet, Wade.”

Wade’s full attention turns to you as the metal giant turns and heads back inside. “You were all smiles with him, huh?”

You narrow your eyes at Wade. “So what? Smiling is a normal human thing!”

“Sure,” Wade says, drawing out the ‘u.’ “You like him, don’t you?”

“Only as much as you like Cable!”

It’s Wade’s turn to narrow his eyes. “I do not like Cable. I merely have a ‘healthy fascination’ with him and his metal arm. And his awesome gun.”

You smile sweetly at Wade and step inside. “Glad we’ve got that all settled, then.”

Wade pretty well takes you under his wing after that. The two of you have the same penchant for wild mischief –and fucking with Scott Summers—so it’s no surprise that you get along like ducks and water.

But what no one else notices –which, admittedly, is probably because they’re so used to cleaning up after yours and Wade’s hijinks—is that Wade does more than just rope you into his nonsense.

The two of you need to run to a store to pick up supplies for your latest prankster endeavor? He has you make a list, estimate how much it’ll cost, keep track of the route on Dopinder’s GPS, and puts you in charge of navigating the store while you track down everything you need.

He gets bored of being cooped up in the mansion? He takes you out for an adventure, teaches you how to navigate streets and pick out safe places to duck into if you run into trouble.

He buys you your first laptop and cellphone, shows you how to customize everything for “maximum fun.” (And, when his knowledge runs out, he just sets you down in front of Ellie and has her teach you how to be safe on the Internet and how to avoid getting ten thousand viruses on your computer.)

The man makes sure you get a proper sex-ed course. Not one where he just cracks inappropriate jokes –though there are a lot of those going around—but a real one. The ins and outs of consent, how to avoid getting STDs, basic anatomy, how to spot cancer on both sets of genitals.

And it’s all of this that leaves you convinced that Wade Wilson is one of the smartest persons you’ve ever met.

It’s not hard to learn how to read Wade Wilson. Once you get past all the shock value of the jokes, vulgar language, and weird habits, he’s an open book that has its heart on its cover.

He’s lonely. Not the creepy, ‘I’m forty years old and I’m lonely so I spend a lot of time with people half my age’ lonely, mind you. He’s just… lonely. Sad, even.

He hates his skin. That much is obvious from all the long sleeves and layers he wears, even in the dead of summer. And while you don’t see anything wrong with the way he looks, he does, and that’s the only opinion that matters in his book.

Wade Wilson is also a man that wrestles with a lot of demons. His healing factor didn’t cure him of his cancer, so he faces excruciating pain on a daily basis. The loss of his girlfriend –who stuck with him after he got fucked over by Francis and turned into ‘an avocado that got fucked by an older avocado’—is a gaping hole in his chest that he doesn’t know how to plug. His self-loathing is a constant presence in his mind, and the amount of skin he covers is a decent giveaway for just how much he’s hating himself at a given moment.

He kills himself because he “can’t really die.”

And it’s when you watch Colossus and a few other X-Men deal with the aftermath of one of Wade’s “visits to Vanessa” that you decide that this crazy man might need you as much as you need him.

You happen to catch a glimpse of him in the hall a few days later, decked out in his Deadpool suit.

There’s only two reasons Wade wears that suit: he’s getting ready for a fight, or he’s in the pits of self-hatred (or both). But he doesn’t have his swords on him, which means he’s not gearing up for a fight—

You dart down the hall and latch onto one of his arms. “Hey, dude! I just had this great idea that we have to try.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting, Aang!” Wade chirps back –but his voice is heavily strained, and, yep, you were right about his mental state. “What do we just have to try?”

You don’t actually have an idea on hand, so you just blurt the first thing that pops into your head. “Dessert burritos.”

Wade cocks his head back and considers the idea for a moment. “Dessert… burritos. Holy shit, you’re a genius.”

You grin –his tone’s brighter, lighter, which means you’ve managed to pull him out of his funk a little.

He grabs your hand and starts skipping down the hallway. “To the kitchen!”

Operation “Dessert Burritos” ends in nothing short of a disaster. You and Wade try to make pancakes to act as tortillas, and since neither of you can cook anything other than instant noodles, you wind up burning every attempt at you make. Three flaming skillets get chucked out the back door and two more are doused under the kitchen sink faucet before the two of you decide to call it quits on the ‘pancake’ alley.

So, then, the next logical step seems to be ice cream sundaes –except that Wade is still stuck on the ‘burrito’ concept, so he tries to wrap ice cream in a regular tortilla, which winds up tasting terrible for obvious reason, so Wade spits it out in the trashcan, except he misses part of his target and winds up spraying the front of the can with half his mouthful of ice cream and tortilla.

And then the two of you wind up unpacking the fridge and most of the pantry to find “sundae appropriate toppings” because Colossus is a health nut who keeps the kitchen stocked with healthy things—

And then Wade wants to try microwaving Gushers because why not, and you’ve never been one to say no to an opportunity to do something you’ve never done before—

And thus is all the chaos Colossus walks in on when he pops his head into the kitchen to see what the two of you are up to.

You’re eating fudge ripple ice cream straight out of the carton with a serving spoon, perched on the kitchen. You wave at him with the spoon as his face goes slack with shock. “Hey, dude! What’s up?”

Wade’s swearing up a storm while he tries to get molten Gusher remains off his face –he’d opted to take his mask off while he ate, and you’re suspecting that he’s regretting that decision now.

Colossus covers his face with both his hands and groans. “Wade—”

“Hey, man,” you interject before he can lambaste your honorary sibling too badly. “This was one hundred percent my idea. Don’t worry, we’ll get it all cleaned up. It’ll be like it never happened, I promise.” You pause, then add “Well, the gushers in the microwave was Wade’s idea. He’s on his own for that.”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Hey, I told you not to stick your face into the microwave, but no, Pikachu knows everything!”

Colossus just sighs and shakes his head. “You two are destructive.”

“Hey, at least we didn’t short circuit the microwave this time!” You offer him an impish smile. “We’re doing better than we usually do.”

He puts his hands on his hips, looking every bit the stern father –but the corner of his mouth turns up as he shakes his head again. “I suppose you are correct.”

“Yupp. Like I said, don’t worry. We’ll totally handle the clean up and everything.”

He casts a concerned, appraising look around the kitchen, but still favors you with a small smile when his gaze finally settles on you again. “Well, I suppose I leave you both to it, then.”

The two of you have to spend the rest of the day cleaning and scrubbing to get the kitchen back in order. Wade’s none too happy about it, but you do your best to make it bearable for him –music, banter, the works.

And, bonus, cleaning with him means he has to stay with you, which means he can’t wallow in self-loathing. He’s not his bright, bubbly self, but he’s not falling apart either, which is a win in your book.

It’s dark out by the time the two of you finish getting everything put away. Normally, you’d just call it a day, but it’s not hard to see the darkness swimming behind Wade’s eyes—

“Hey, man, you wanna have a sleepover in the rec room tonight?”

Wade gasps, and his eyes genuinely light up. “Sleepovers are my favorite!”

You grin. “They’re my favorite, too! Come on, go get changed and I’ll meet you there. You still need to catch me up on all the reality TV stuff.”

The two of you are getting the rec room set up for the night when you hear Colossus’s heavy footsteps in the hall.

You pat Wade’s shoulder before hopping over the couch. “I’ll deal with him. Pick out something for us to watch. I’ll be back in five, ten minutes max.”

The metal giant himself is in the kitchen, checking up on everything before he goes to bed, it would seem.

You watch him for a couple moments –you don’t miss the surprised expression on his face at the orderly state of the kitchen, either—before making your presence known. “Making sure we held up our end of things?”

The expression on his face is guilty when he looks over his shoulder at you.

“It’s fine,” you chuckle as you step into the kitchen, holding up your hands in a disarming gesture. “I would if I were you, too.”

He ducks his head a little, but he’s smiling. “I do not wish to seem judgmental.” He looks past you –or, rather, over you—and frowns at the glow of the TV. “You two are still up?”

You glance over your shoulder, then step closer to the man of metal and lower your voice. “Wade’s had a rough day today. I just… I don’t want to leave him alone, you know?”

Understanding settles on Colossus’s steel features; he nods. “Da.”

“We’re just gonna hang out for the night, have a sleepover,” you add. “No more kitchen adventures –speaking of which, one of the skillets was not salvageable.”

Colossus huffs out a gentle laugh, crosses his arms over his massive chest, and shakes his head. “Somehow, I am not surprised.”

“You gotta admit, it’s better than our usual levels of collateral damage.”

“I suppose.” He smiles softly at you for a moment before clearing his throat and looking away. “Well, I leave you both to it.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Colossus.”

“Rest well, Y/N.”

You watch him go for a minute –watch the way the muscles in his back and shoulders ripple as he walks—before you shake yourself out of the daze Colossus never fails to put you in and head back to Wade. “All taken care of. We’re free to poison our brains with reality TV drama all we want!”

Wade doesn’t look up at you when you walk in. He’s seated on the middle of the couch, jaw tight and lips pursed as he stares ahead at the TV screen. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

You blink, shocked by the sudden outburst and his surly mood. It doesn’t take much to put together that he probably heard your conversation in the kitchen –Colossus’s voice always carries—but even if he didn’t it’s not too far out of Wade’s “normal” for him to assume that he’s only getting the scraps of what decent treatment he deserves.

Either way, you’re not having this argument. Not now, not ever.

You put your hands on your hips and fix him with a stern look. “Good, because I’m not giving you any.”

Your sharp tone makes his eyes widen, and he actually looks away from the glowing screen to stare at you.

“I don’t know if you noticed, dumbass,” you continue, tossing in a mild insult to help him figure out you’re serious, “but I care about you. You’re the one person in this mansion that made sure I’d be able to function in the real world if I had to, and I’ll be damned if I’m just gonna let you flounder when you’re feeling down. And that’s not pity, jackass. It’s called being a decent fucking human being. Got it?”

“Pretty sure it’s pity when the person isn’t obligated to care about you,” Wade throws back, smiling bitterly.

And you understand where he’s coming from. After Vanessa died, all the help he’s been getting has come from the X-Men, and how can it not look like a pity handout when the people helping you have their lives and themselves so extraordinarily put together?

You’ve felt the same way about it on more than one sleepless night.

You let out an irritated huff and cross your arms over your chest. “Fine. I’m hereby adopting you as my brother. Now, as your new sister, I’m obligated to care about you. Are we doing this sleepover or what?”

Wade blinks at you, then grins. It’s tired, and it’s worn down, but it’s not bitter.

You’ll take it.

“Hell yeah we are.” He scoots over so you can sit next to him. “These are reruns of ‘Say Yes to the Dress.’ This one’s the ‘Bridezilla’ edition.”

“Sweet.” You plop down on the couch just in time to see a particularly distraught bride-to-be throw a fascinator at her mother. “Holy shit.”

“Just wait,” Wade says, all too gleeful. “It gets better.”

You wake up in the gray pre-dawn of the next day and nearly smack your head into Wade’s.

The two of you had taken half the couch each, with heads in the middle so you could hear each other talk and avoid kicking each other in the middle of the night.

Wade’s still asleep, one hand holding onto one of yours.

The sight makes you smile, makes you feel a little less despair over the state of the world.

You squeeze his hand, then nudge his head when he doesn’t stir. “Wake up, idiot.”

Wade groans. “Too early.”

“Yeah, which is why I’m putting you back to bed.” You tug him off the couch and walk him towards the main staircase. “Come on. Your ancient back needs a proper mattress.”

“Not ancient.”

“Yes, you are, you geriatric motherfucker.”

You manage to get him up the stairs and to his room without incident. He drops into his bed with a grunt, and you tuck a blanket around him and wait for him to start snoring again.

And then you get to work.

It takes a couple minutes, but you manage to find all the guns and knives Wade keeps on him while at the Institute. You tuck the numerous weapons into your arms, then pad out of his room.

Colossus is in the hall –already dressed for the day, the morning bird. He frowns, concerned, when he sees your armload of weaponry. “What—”

“Don’t worry,” you toss over your shoulder as you walk precisely one door to the left. “I’m not using them.” You kick the door a couple times with your foot, then step back and wait.

Nathan Summers, alias Cable, opens the door a few seconds later. He takes one good look at the guns and knives in your arms, then raises an eyebrow at you as if to say ‘what the fuck do you want me to do with those?’

“Wade’s been in a mood,” you say, as if that explains everything –which, technically, it does. “And you actually know how to store these properly.”

He sighs, but doesn’t look too put-out about it, and opens the door more. “Bring them in.”

You dump the arsenal on his bed when he motions for you to do so, watch as he puts gunlocks on the various firearms and tucks the knives and other bladed weapons into the top drawer of his nightstand.

Colossus watches from the hall, hovering nervously in a way that should not be possible for someone of his side.

“If you’re cool with it, I’m gonna leave a note for Wade to let him know to see you if he wants his shit back,” you say as Nathan tucks Wade’s guns into a duffel bag. “He probably won’t be up before noon.”

Nathan sighs, but nods anyway. “Not like I’m going anywhere else.”

“Thanks,” you say, and you mean it. “I wouldn’t have known what to do with all this.”

“Anytime, kid.”

Colossus watches you carefully as you walk back into the hall and close Nathan’s door behind you. “You… care a great deal for Wade.”

It’s not hard to hear the unspoken question, mostly because it’s easy to see how someone might confuse the easy camaraderie you and Wade have always had for something else. Something… less platonic.

You shrug and tell the truth. “He’s my brother.”

Finding out that Colossus –Piotr, his name is Piotr, and you think you could spend the rest of your life saying his name without ever getting tired of how it feels on your lips—likes you is a world-changing revelation.

You know by the looks Wade keeps sending you throughout lunch, the afternoon, and dinner that he’s going to want a full report on everything that’s happened with Piotr.

You can’t wait to give him one.

You also can’t help but notice the way that the door to Wade’s room is cracked open and the lights are on as Piotr walks you back to your room –ostensibly so you know he’s ‘in’ and will pop in to give him the full rundown, but probably also so he can eavesdrop, the little shit.

But you can’t find it in yourself to care all that much because Piotr’s hand is holding yours and you can’t imagine ever feeling anything better than what you’re feeling right now.

He walks you to your door, smiles fondly down at you. “I have work tonight. I doubt I will see you before morning.”

“So you’re ‘saying goodnight just in case?’” You ask, smiling back as giddy excitement coils in your stomach.

“Something like that, da.” And then he dips his head and presses his lips against yours.

You can’t help but gasp, just a little, and lift your hand to his shoulder to steady yourself.

The kiss ends all to soon –for your liking and Piotr’s, if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

He presses his forehead against yours before stepping back. “Goodnight, myshka.”

“Goodnight, Piotr.” You let your fingers slip from his as he walks away and watch him as he retreats down the hall.

He looks over his shoulder before he turns the corner to head downstairs. He smiles when he sees you watching, and blows you a kiss before disappearing from view—

And then, right on cue, Wade opens his door and grins at you.

You just cover your face with your hands and let out an excited squeal. You’re too excited to be annoyed with Wade, dammit.

He tugs you in his room. “I have snacks. Now, tell me everything.”

The two of you talk for hours, demolishing several bags of fun-sized candies and two packages of Keebler Fudgestripes.

“No fucking way!” Wade brays. “He was pet-naming you for the better part of a year? What a dork!”

“Well, he’s my dork now, so mind your mouth.” You grin stupidly, then squeal as you fall over onto Wade’s bed.

“Oh my gosh, you’re so cute I could die.”

There’s a knock on the doorframe, and Piotr –still out of defense mode, which is gonna take some serious getting used to—pokes his head into Wade’s room. “You are still up?” He frowns when he sees the numerous wrappers covering Wade’s bed. “Did you eat all that?”

You giggle at your boyfriend. “Kinda. We got carried away.”

He shakes his head in an all-too-familiar disapproving gesture, but an amused smile plays at his lips. “Is not good to consume so much sugar this late, myshka. You will be up half of night.”

“Unless I find a way to burn it off.” You grin at him. “Mind accompanying me on a late night stroll?”

He smiles softly at you. “Konechno –of course.”

“God, you two are so barf-worthy,” Wade gushes as you hop off his bed. “I love it.”

You catch Nathan in the hall as Piotr escorts you towards the stairs.

He smirks at the two of you, presumably having gotten an update from Wade and Ellie. “Going somewhere?”

“Just for a walk.” You jerk your head back towards Wade’s room, where light is still spilling into the hallway from his open door. “I bet he could use some company right now.”

Nathan shakes his head and mutters something that sounds like ‘clingy’ under his breath, but he stills strides over to Wade’s room anyway. He pauses at the doorway, frowning. “Did you eat all of that?”

“Yes, he did!” you shout. “You should have seen it; it was horrifying!”

“Lies!” Wade shouts back from his room. “Lies, lies, all fucking lies and slander!”

Piotr chuckles and tugs on your hand. “Come, myshka. Before you get into more trouble.”

You grin as you follow him down the stairs. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Watching Nate finally –finally—kiss Wade is like getting to the end of a good slow-burn book. You’ve loved watching the build-up, loved placing bets with everyone else on when those two would finally get their heads out of their asses and realize they were basically dating already, but God it’s such a relief to see them actually do something other than flirt with each other.

And one good turn deserves another, which is why you dig a box of maple sugar candies that you’d been saving for Wade’s birthday out of your dresser drawer and head over to Wade’s room.

Nathan’s already in there, holding Wade in his arms as they snuggle on Wade’s bed.

You can’t help but grin. “God, you two are so barf worthy. I love it.”

Wade sticks his tongue out at you. “We’re gonna give you and Metallica a run for your ‘hashtag goals’ money. Just you watch.”

“Good fucking luck.” You gesture at him with the box. “Wanna give me the ‘full rundown? I brought snacks.”

“I never say no to snacks.” He makes grabby hands for the box, then gasps softly when he sees the label. “Where’d you get these?”

“Vermont. The school took the kids on a field trip to a maple syrup farm. They’re the real deal.”

Wade tears the box open with all the delicacy of a rabid badger. “You do love me.”

“Always have, bro.”

Nathan frowns down at the little candies shaped like maple leaves. “The fuck are those?”

“Only the best thing on the face of the damn planet.” Wade holds one up to his boyfriend’s mouth. “Open up, sweetcheeks.”

Nate bites off part of the candy. His eyes widen immediately, and he spits the lump of melting sugar out onto a tissue. “Fuck. Too sweet.”

Wade gasps. “I’ll have you know that, as a Canadian, you’ve just committed a heresy. I’m sorry, we’re gonna have to see other people.”

Nathan snorts as he chucks his tissue into a nearby wastebasket. “Can’t get rid of me that easy, gorgeous.”

You can’t help but smile as Wade nuzzles Nate’s shoulder affectionately. “I just wanna say: I fucking told you so.”

“Shut up,” Wade shoots back. “You did not.”

“Wade, how long did I tell you that he liked you? How fucking long?”

“Yeah, well how long did I tell you that our resident steel boyscout liked you?” Wade rolls his eyes, then raises the pitch of his voice. “No, he doesn’t, we’re just friends, he doesn’t feel the same way!”

“I do not sound like that!”

“Uh, yeah you do! That’s why I made my voice sound like that.”

“Listen, asshole—”

“Language, myshka.” Piotr leans against the doorframe, smiling fondly at you. “Be nice.”

You point imperiously at Wade. “He started it!”

“Yeah, and I finished it! No performance anxiety here!”

Nate rolls his eyes. “You’re both insane.”

“Yeah? So?” You pluck two maple sugar candies out of the box –ignoring Wade’s squawks of protest as you do—then nab a tissue from the dresser before turning to Piotr. “Here. Try this.”

He eyes the candy, then the tissue, with admittedly fair suspicion. “What is this?”

“Candy.”

He gestures with the tissue. “And this?”

“Call it a safe bet.”

He sighs, then takes a delicate bite of the candy –and, sure enough, promptly spits it out into the tissue. “Bozhe moi, much too sweet.”

“Saw that coming.” You pop your entire candy into your mouth and let out a moan of contentment. “So good.”

“I know,” Wade says as he pops another bite of sugar molded into the shape of a leaf in his mouth. He makes a noise that in any other context would’ve been downright obscene and flops against Nathan’s chest.

“You’re both sugar fiends,” Nathan grumbles, putting an arm around Wade’s shoulders.

“I like to think of it as ‘well-adjusted.’” You grin teasingly at your own boyfriend. “What’s the matter, babe? Can’t handle a little sugar?”

He latches onto your hand and draws you into his arms. “Perhaps, you are just only sweet thing I need in life,” he says as he drops a kiss against the top of your head.

“Ew,” Wade mock-whines. “Get your PDA out of here!”

You roll your eyes at him. “Says the guy who’s literally sitting in his boyfriend’s lap.”

Despite the banter, you’re legitimately happy. You’ve got your happy ending, and Wade’s got his.

Look at us, bro, you think as the four of you share laughs. Champions of overcoming the shittiest obstacles. Go us.

[worldofadvent]

NEO World of Advent Chapter Three

The sky over the gigantic hulk of metal known to many of as the Resistance was still, a dark shroud permeated by an innumerable measure of tiny gleaming lights stretched far above. It was a good night for stargazing, something Cero, the Advent child of Zero and Ciel, was none too keen on missing.

He was followed by a reploid with a red coloration. His father. The reploid’s expression was distant, unreadable. By now Cero had learned to interpret even subtle changes in Zero’s normally stoic demeanor, and could tell that his father was curious as to why Cero had brought him there, at this early time in the morning.

“Haven’t you ever been stargazing before, Dad?” Cero hung his feet over the edge of the top floor. “You can’t ever do it in Neo Arcadia. Too many lights there.”

“I was made to fight mavericks, Cero.” Zero sighed, and sat down beside his son all the same. “I wasn’t intended for astronomy.”

“This isn’t about astronomy,” Cero explained, a hint of mirth betraying a laugh. “All you ever think about is practical stuff. Hasn’t Mom taught you by now that there’s more to life than that?”

A grunt. If Zero had indeed learned of life’s finer aspects, he wasn’t eager to share them at this time.

Cero shook his head in mock despair. “Surely even Maverick Hunters did some things for fun?”

Zero thought about it for a moment. “Sometimes we would visit our friends. It was fun to go on missions with them…”

“Something other than missions, Dad.”

Zero smiled, a rare sign of unguarded expression that he reserved for only the closest of friends and his small family. “You remind me of an old friend of mine. His name was Axl. He was a wild card, for sure. I’m sure he’d know what to tell you something we did for fun.”

Cero was silent for a moment. “You almost never talk about your life before the Resistance. Who was he?”

“Axl? He was a goofy, fun-loving, prankster of a machine. But he was also one of the better maverick hunters the world would see, something I admit I didn’t see at first.”

“What happened?” Cero was careful not to look his father directly in the eye.

“An old enemy brought him down,” Zero said. “It came out of nowhere. X… he tried to save him, but it was too late. Too many Hunters died in the old days. It was a chaotic time.”

“There’s a saying,” Cero said, “That the greatest hunters are immortalized in the stars. An ancient civilization had this hero they called Orion. Maybe Axl is up there with them.”

Zero looked up at the heavens emblazoned with stars. “Perhaps. But we reploids have a different concept of the afterlife. We call it Cyberspace.”

Cero dangled his feet against the edge of the Caravan. “Where do you think I will go when I die? I’m not human or a reploid. I’m an Advent.”

“Maybe you get to choose,” Zero said. The thought seemed to amuse him. “You could be the bridge between your mother and I, perhaps. Let’s hope that day doesn’t come for some time, alright?”

Cero nodded. “I know. It’s just something I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately. You know, where we end up when we die. Do you think Light and Cipher are watching over us somewhere?”

Zero closed his eyes. Cero immediately felt regret at mentioning his two brothers, said to have been taken at an early age by the renegade Umera, believed dead. Not many things could bring Zero visible pain, but the loss of his two eldest children was one of them.

“I hope so,” Zero said at last. “Maybe Axl is up there, corrupting their young minds with practical jokes. I can only hope X is also there to keep them in check.”

“X. He was your oldest friend, right? The one Copy X was based off of?”

Zero nodded. “Yes, he was. He was a strong believer in peace, much like your mother. He was as good, if not better than I am at fighting. He was a good Hunter and a better friend. I miss him, at times.” The old reploid grew quiet, almost as if he had said too much.

“It must be rough, losing someone,” Cero said. “I don’t want to ever lose you or Mom.”

Zero ruffled the blonde hair of his youngest child. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that for some time, either. Not while I’m around to look after her.”

The door that lead to the interior of the Caravan closed shut, footsteps betraying the presence of another person in the vicinity. Neither Zero or Cero turned around; only one person knew where they would be at the time.

“Please, Zero,” Ciel said. “As if you don’t need looking after either. I swear,” she addressed her son, “If I didn’t make sure he got enough E-crystals, he’d run himself dry one of these days.”

Ciel sat down to the left of Cero, sandwiching hi between his parents. “Stargazing, are we?”

“Sort of,” Zero offered. “What brings you out here so early?”

“I finished my symposium of energy-based crystals early, so I thought I’d go see how my two favorite soldiers are doing.”

“We’re fine Mom,” Cero said. “The sun’s about to rise anyway. Hey, do you think I can get a transfer to Neo Arcadia sometime today? There’s this new Slider out that I really want to try…”

“You know the rules,” Ciel said. “Chores first. Then training. Then, if it’s not too late, maybe. Zero?”

Zero nodded briefly in assent. “I want to see you at combat training shortly after noon. Don’t be late.”

The reploid stood up, offering a hand to Ciel, lifting her up as well. “Until then, check to see if Colbur has anything for you to do.”

Cero nodded glumly. “Yes, Dad.” Cero watched his parents disappear from the morning light into the artificial luminescence of the Resistance. Distantly, he pondered the probability of Colbur telling on him if he didn’t do his chores, but thought against it.

Colbur could always be found on the same floor as the CMD Room. The Command Room was where most missions were given and soldiers dispatched, fortunately having grown mostly unused from lack of necessity. Nowadays the only use people had for it was to transfer to one area to the other. Usually Neo Arcadia.

Cero approached the reploid, whose head was currently buried in paperwork of some sort casually. “Hey Colbur. You don’t have any chores for me today, do you?”

Colbur looked up from whatever business he had with the pamphlet and nodded. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

Cero’s head drooped at this news, but he quickly regained enough posture to ask what it was he was assigned to do that day. “What is it?”

“You don’t have to act so glum about it!” Colbur laughed. “No, Cero. To be honest, this is your mother’s early birthday present to you. If you head to the nursery, you can pick it up.”

“The nursery?” Cero thought for a moment. “You don’t mean? My own – is it an elf?!”

Colbur smiled. “You’ll just have to see.”

Cero ran out the door, vaulting himself past people in the hallway, who were halfway into scolding him until they saw that it was the son of the Resistance leaders. In a carriage two sections down, Allouette was holding a bright orange-gold Cyber Elf.

“I could hear you coming all the way from here,” Allouette remarked lightly. “Were you racing anyone?”

“No Aunt ‘Lou,” Cero said bashfully. “Colbur said Mom got me an Elf.”

“Did he now?” Alouette frowned. “That was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Well, I more or less guessed as much,” Cero said. “So is that it? Did I get an Elf?”

“Yes, Cero.” Allouette held out the small orb for Cero to hold. “Her name is Clover. Like Croire, your father’s old elf, this elf can possess various abilities. She’s still very young though, so be careful with her. She’s not yet ready for combat, either.”

“Do I get to keep her in my room?”

Allouette shook her head. “Until Clover opens her eyes, she’s not mature enough. When that day comes, she can take on a physical form similar to that of a human or reploid, in her choosing. Then you can train her like Croire.”

“How old do cyber elves live?” Cero asked. “I remember Croire when I was a kid.”

“Well,” Allouette said, “It varies. Some elves can live for a very, very long time such as animal elves. Nurse elves and hacker elves tend to live shorter lives. An elf such as Clover will possess characteristics of all three, so I can’t really be sure. Croire lived to be about ten years old.”

“Oh.” Cero frowned. “I thought they lived longer than that. Is there any way to extend their life cycle?”

“I assume so,” Allouette said. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been working on something like that. It’s a joint project your mother and I have been working on for a long time, actually.”

“If anyone can do it it’s you two,” Cero said earnestly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Thank you for your note of confidence,” Allouette said. “Now, Clover eats quite a lot for an elf her size, so I need you to find me some large Energy Crystals. I believe Hibou can help you with that.”

“Sure thing!” Cero handed Clover back to Allouette and dashed outside. The energy hub of the Caravan was mostly obsolete, due to the Ciel-System being in place, but occasionally newborn elves had to be fed from energy crystals, thus preserving the usefulness of the hub.

Hibou stood guard outside the door. He was a very slightly pudgy reploid who constantly reminded people that he was on a diet. Zero once told Cero that he had lost a lot of weight, actually.  Hibou gave Cero a salute when he saw him.

“How is Master Cero doing today?” Hibou asked.

“Please,” Cero said, “I told you – it’s just Cero.”

“Well then, ‘Just Cero,’ Hibouu said, “What is it that brings you to the Energy hub? Not many people stop by to visit. Or come at all as a matter of fact…”

“I just need some energy crystals,” Cero said. “Powerful ones, if you can help it.”

“I can indeed,” Hibou said. “Hold on one minute. Actually, why not come inside? I can show you around.”

Cero entered the door left open by Hibou as the reploid entered the Energy Hub. Inside, a stream of blue energy veins could be seen streaking across the room, curving and convalescing into the domed ceiling. A massive machine stood in the middle, generating energy. Cero recognized it as one of his mother’s Ciel System prototypes.

“Ah I see you’ve found the Generator,” Hibou said, following Cero’s gaze. “That produces most of the energy we use in the Caravan. We don’t need anything fancy, so this older model does just fine. I’ve heard that Neo Arcadia has one as large as this whole caravan. And it’s a newer model, too!”

“Wow.” Cero couldn’t help but be impressed. “That must generate a lot of energy.”

“It does,” Hibou agreed. “But, that being said, the people of Neo Arcadia use a lot of energy as well. And we both know what happens when they run out of energy sources.”

The two of them shared a grim moment of silence for the reploids who had been falsely accused of being a maverick under the cruel regime of Copy X.

Hibou beckoned Cero further into the room, where in one of the shelves, a large stack of crystals rested neatly in rows of three. A few hummed gently, visible reminders of the portable sources of power they contained.

Hibou wrapped those crystals up, handing them to Cero. “Here you go. And do be sure to tell Allouette how helpful I am, will you? And er, handsome, if you will.”

Cero snorted. “Why don’t you tell her yourself?”

“I have a job to do,” Hibou said defensively. “Besides, it’s not like Allouette would ever go out with a reploid like me anyway...”

Cero took the reploid’s gloomy silence as a queue to leave, thanking him before shutting the door. Crystals in hand, Cero made his way toward the Nursery—more carefully this time. HE didn’t want to risk dropping the crystals and causing a minor explosion.

Cero opened the door to the Nursery, careful to keep a tight grip on his packaged goods. “Aunt ‘Lou! I’m here. I brought those E Crystals you requested.”

“Thanks Cero.” Allouette placed one of the crystals in a slot on Clover’s incubator. “Just place them like so and Clover can feed off them when she’s hungry.”

“Cool.” Cero watched Clover float up to the end of the crystal and absorb it slowly. It was interesting for Cero to see Clover eat.

“I imagine your father will want to see you now,” Allouette said. “It’s about time for combat training.”

“Oh.” Cero forced a smile. “I mean, great! I’ll head over there now.”

“Cero.” Allouette gave him a concerned look. “How is your sparring going?”

“It’s great,” Cero said hollowly. “I love fighting.”

Allouette didn’t look convinced, but she let Cero go anyhow. “Go on then,” she said. “And do your best to give your father a few sores, will you?”

“I’ll try!” Cero called out, but by then he was already out the door.

Zero was waiting for him, two practice sabers pushed in the ground equal distance from each other in a ring. “You’re late,” he said.

“Sorry Dad,” Cero said. “I was feeding Clover.”

“You will address me as “Master” during this time, Cero,” Zero reminded him. “But yes, a good elf,” Zero said. “Take good care of her. Your mother worked hard to breed that particular elf. You had best not slack off like you do in combat practice.”

It was this last slight that had Cero cringe. As much as he tried to help it, he just felt clumsy with a sword. Even busters felt uneasy to him.

“Pick up your practice saber.” Zero held his own leveled at Cero’s chest.

Cero held his own sword unsteadily. When Zero rushed forward, he panicked and dropped the blade.

Zero raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“I er, panicked.” Cero said at last. “I know. I’ll practice. I know how bad I am at this.” \

Zero’s eyes hardened. “You said that last time, Cero. Now pick up the sword again. Back to the basics. For one, your stance is too wide. Hold your sword tighter. Listen…”

The lesson droned on for what seemed forever to Cero. When it finally ended, Zero said it was far from good, but acceptable. One of the Resistance members arrived with a bottle of water, which Cero drank greedily.

Cero eyed the practice saber wearily. It was bad enough that he hadn’t unlocked his Oversol yet, but he hadn’t even the skill to use a simple saber either. Sometimes Cero wished that he had been born with his father’s skill with weapons. It seemed to him that the only thing that came easily to him was his intellect.

The resistance member took the bottle from Cero, leaving him to his thoughts. It wasn’t as though he tried to be such a disappointment. It’s just that any sort of weapon seemed wrong to Cero. He felt useless with them, like they were an ugly, obtrusive third foot, far from the “Extension of one’s own arm” that his father kept spouting about.

Cero sighed, and kicked the saber irritably. At least there were a few hours left in the day. He could still manage to take a trip to Neo Arcadia and come back home before nightfall. All he had to do was convince his mother that he should be given a transfer.

Cero found Ciel at the head of the CMD, a fortunate position for him, as that was just where he wanted to be. “Mom!” he called out. “I finished my chores. I even sparred with Dad. Can I take that trip to Neo Arcadia now?”

Ciel pondered the request for a moment. “Yes, but be sure to be back when the sun sets, alright?”

“I’ll request a transfer back as soon as dusk settles,” Cero promised. “Thanks!”

Ciel shook her head, but smiled all the same. “That’s all he ever wants to be. I suppose his friends are there or something. I’ll handle the transfer. Stand ready.”

Cero nodded. “Ready!”

Ciel entered a sequence of numbers into the machine. Soon Cero was bathed in blue light, and found himself in the bustling streets of Neo Arcadia. Cero grinned, taking in the hustle of people running to and from their jobs, on Sliders, or taking public transportation. It was a stark difference from the rather bucolic life in the Resistance.

Cero thought for a moment, deciding eventually that it would be a good idea to check out the local tech. Deciding ultimately on a rather quaint shop in the middle of the lower reaches of the City, known as “Cipher Mechanics and Repair,” Cero stepped inside.