**15.30 GMT-6, 14 February 1996, Small Town in Canadian Yukon. CANADA.**
LOGAN
The motel room walls were closing in. Logan could feel it in his bones, a restless energy that the four cheap walls couldn't contain. The few bills left from the trucker's wallet were a pitiful stack on the rickety table. It wasn't enough for food, gas, and a weeks-long trip to Saskatchewan, a place that supposedly held a cabin he barely remembered.
"We're already tapped," he grunted, stating the obvious.
Wade, who had been trying to teach Laura how to balance a spoon on her nose, perked up. "I could do another round of five-finger discount–"
"No," Marie said, her voice firm and final, cutting him off before he could even finish. "We are not makin' a habit of stealin' from folks, sugar."
Wade slumped, muttering under his breath "Aww, shuck… I really love doing that," Then, he suddenly slapped a crumpled, beer-stained poster onto the table. It advertised a "Yukon Brawl Night" at a roadhouse bar called "The Howling Dog." The grand prize was a sum of money that made Logan's eyebrows twitch.
"Fight ring," Wade said, as if it were the most natural solution in the world. "We fight, we get money. Simple. Just like what you did in the X-Men movies. I also wanna do it!"
Marie's eyes narrowed. "Wade, there is no way people are gonna let a child fight in a ring."
"I'll be a really, really short adult!" Wade insisted, puffing out his chest. "I'll wear a mask! And put up my hoodie!" He then produced, from God-knows-where, a crudely stitched up red and black face-covering.
Where the hell did he get that?
Logan snorted. "Your face might be covered, kid, but you still look like a scrawny ten-year-old. And your voice? Still sounded like a Mickey Mouse on crack."
"Shhh, The Mouse could hear that y'know! Don't ever talk about The Mouse like that! He's got snipers everywhere!"
"If you could stay silent, maybe you could pass there as a really short young adult. But, it's better for me or Rogue to do it."
Wade opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. A look of profound shock crossed his features, as if Logan had just suggested something impossible. The internal struggle was visible on his face.
Marie shot Logan a look of pure disapproval. "Logan, why are you even entertainin' this?"
But Logan was watching Wade. He saw the kid's mind working the calculation. He is pretty sure the kid can't keep quiet and agreed with him easily.
Wade finally let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine. Fine! I'll just go and bet on your odds. So you better win!." He then tried to lower his voice, forcing out a raspy, "Or I could lower my voice… like this, bub." It sounded ridiculous, even if the kid tried imitating him. Tried is the key word.
Logan almost smiled. Almost. "Sounds like you're a kid gargling gravel with water."
"Lower then," Wade declared, placing a hand over his throat trying to sound more 'adult' and failing miserably. "Welp, That's it! I'll just shut up then! I actually wanted to fight! I needed this!!!"
Logan was genuinely surprised. He'd expected Wade to fight more on the whole silent mute thing. "You'd actually keep your mouth shut?"
"If it's the two of us, we get the money twice as fast," Wade said, his business acumen surfacing through the madness. "Mom can't go. One touch and the guy's in a coma and everyone would chase us with pitchforks. I don't they allow gloves in there. Besides, I can do this! I mean, Spider-Man did it when he was like thirteen! Fourteen? I'm ten! It's basically the same! He was always way shorter than me!"
Logan had no idea who 'Spider-Man' was, but he'd long since chalked such things up to the kid's legion of imaginary friends and the voices in his head. He looked at Marie. Her expression was still worried, but she still saw that they couldn't exactly stop the kid even if they wanted to. Logan had a feeling he just gonna register without them knowing one way of the other.
"Alright," Logan rumbled. "But you stick to the plan. You're a mute. And you forfeit if you have to fight me, kid."
"Yeah, yeah, I know you won that fight already. I'll defeat you someday!"
"What fight? Logan..." Marie whirl her head at him suspiciously.
Fuck.
"It's--I... I can expla--"
"Its nothing Mom, just a healthy father and son's bonding time!"
Keep your fucking mouth shut kid.
"LOGAN!"
"Come on kid! We are gonna be late!" Logan just put his hand on his son's mouth before he could say anything that could get him killed and drag him out of the motel as fast as he can.
"Logan! We are not done!!! COMEBACK HERE!"
"Bye Mama!" Wade somehow managed to unhand Logan's hand from his mouth to wave at his mother while Logan is dragging him in the snow.
"The Howling Dog" was exactly what its name suggested: a smoky, dimly lit den of flannel, body odor, and desperation. The air was thick with the smell of stale beer and sweat. Signing up was easier than expected. The hulking man at the register barely looked up as Logan put his name down.
"Wolverine,"
"And you?" the man grunted at Wade, who was trying to loom menacingly in his oversized jacket and mask.
Wade puffed out his chest and attempted his low voice. "Deadpool."
The register guy squinted. "Whatever, lady. Just sign the waiver."
Wade gasped, audibly offended. "I am not a lady! I'm a very manly man! Bub."
The last word was delivered in an imitation of Logan's own accent. Logan, despite himself, let out a short, sharp chuckle. It was... kind of cute.
"CUTE? CUTE! I AM NOT CUTE! Cih! Why did Comic Wolverine could pull it off despite being short!" Wade muttered to himself as they moved away. "Why can't I?" A moment later, he answered himself. "Yeah, I'm not really that hairy. That's it. That must be it!"
Wade, true to his word, placed all their remaining cash on both of them, spreading the bets to maximize their odds. Logan was up first.
His opponent was a huge guy called "Big Rig."
The man came right at him, throwing a big, slow punch at his head.
Logan didn't move.
He let the punch hit him in the jaw.
Well that's unexpected...
It didn't hurt at all.
The crowd made a surprised noise. Big Rig looked shocked.
He then tried another punch to Logan's stomach.
It was just as useless.
"Damn you Pops! At least act you are hurt! Put on show will ya!" Wade is whispering from his side of the ring, low enough that only the one that have sensitive hearing like them could hear.
Logan was bored. He'd had enough. He threw one punch of his own, right into Big Rig's nose.
There was a loud crack.
Big Rig's eyes closed and he fell straight down, knocked out cold.
The fight was over in seconds.
A collective mix of excited shouts and groans went through the crowd. Wade facepalmed from the sidelines, his entire body slumping in despair. He had told him to put on a show as they have super strength compared to the other contestants.
But hey, it's not his fault that his opponents are so weak.
Wade was up next. His opponent was called "The Little Yeti," another massive guy. But Wade didn't just knock him out easily like Logan.
When the Yeti threw a huge punch, Wade didn't block it.
He did a sloppy backflip out of the way. The big man kept swinging, and Wade kept dodging, ducking, and weaving around him.
He wasn't even hitting the guy hard. He was just being annoying and having fun playing with the guy. He'd slap the back of the Yeti's head, kick him in the shin, and trip him when he charged.
It made Little Yeti angrier and angrier.
The crowd, which had been quiet at first, started to laugh and cheer.
Logan watched from the sidelines, his arms crossed.
He saw the kid's whole body tense with the effort of staying quiet.
He saw the way Wade's shoulders would hitch, how he'd open his mouth for a split second only to snap it shut again, swallowing a taunt and possibly mocking his opponent's name.
The kid was fighting two battles at once–one against the giant in front of him, and a harder one against himself.
Finally, the Yeti was panting and red-faced, tired from chasing Wade around.
That's when Wade finally decided to stop the show he was putting.
He darted in and kicked the back of the Yeti's knee as hard as he could.
The leg buckled, and the big man crashed to the mat, unable to get up.
The other rounds normally continued after that, a parade of overconfident victims falling to Logan's brutal feral fight--He did held back after his son berated him on his last fight and learned to take a few hits or act hurt--or his son's infuriatingly fight where even though he was mute the whole time, still find a way to mock his opponent.
So, it was inevitable, really. That the final match was between the two of them.
The announcer called them to the center of the stained mat. Wade immediately threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender, shaking his head so hard his mask probably chafed.
A wave of boos erupted from the drunk and disappointed crowd.
Wade stomped his foot and pointed a dramatic finger at Logan. Then he spun to face the crowd, his vow of silence completely forgotten. Well, Logan was actually impressed he stuck at it this long.
"Are you kidding me?! Did you see what he did to the other guys? I like my teeth, thank you very much! I'm keeping them!" The crowd booed louder, throwing wadded-up napkins and is that a tomato?
"Fine! You all want a show? I'll give you a show!" he yelled back, the little idiot.
He then marched over, getting right in Logan's space. "Yo, Pops," he whispered, the word still strange to hear. "I put all our winnings, plus the original bets, on you winning this. So you gotta punch me. In the gut. Very softly… Don't break my spine, I also just finished regrowing a kidney yesterday."
Logan rolled his eyes. This fucking kid. He gave a curt nod.
What followed was the most ridiculous spectacle of the night.
Wade danced around him, throwing weak kick and punch, while Logan just stood there looking at him.
Finally, Logan drove a carefully measured fist into the kid's stomach.
It was a tap, a love tap.
"Love tap my ass… Urghh!"
Well, he knew his kid could take it so it was equivalent as a love tap in his book. Beside, Wade kinda went back on his words and annoy him immensely this night. So, this was a proper punishment for him.
Wade flew back as if hit by a cannonball, wheezing like a broken accordion.
He crumpled against the ropes with a flourish before slumping to the floor in a heap.
From his position on the mat, hidden from the crowd, he flashed Logan a quick, clear middle finger.
As the crowd roared its mixed approval and disgust, Logan fought the urge to shake his head. The kid was a moron. But he was their moron. And, he had to admit, a halfway decent actor.
"Well, I need to be that if I want to survive in Hollywood anyway… Ughh… That is not a soft punch you motherfucker… Urgh, you really gotta work on your control! Fuck you, Pops!"
"Not my fault, you said you wanted to gave a show. I gave him what you want and you were too dramatic kid, I knew you could take it."
"Nothing get past you anymore huh?" Wade dropped his act immediately after Logan pointed it quickly.
They collected their substantial earnings under the impressed gaze of the bar owner. They were there for few days, fighting on the ring on the other bars who also had the ads. they had gather a lot of cash to buy a second hand car at this point and were asking for someone who wanted to make a quick buck by selling one of their car but no one seems to interest on that.
It seems they need to be here for a lot longer.
And it was already getting very dangerous because some of the people already start to be suspicious of them at this point.
They need to move out of this town.
Fast.
"Well, we could just--"
"We are not gonna steal a car if we could help it, Wade."
"Well, I am just saying!"
As they were leaving the bar that day, a grizzled old man who'd been watching the fights with a keen eye approached them. "You two!" he said, calling at them. "Heard you're lookin' for wheels. I've got a truck. Old, but she runs. I'll build a little trailer in the truckbed too. The trailer's lil beat up tho, but it's got beds. I'll sell it to you for a fair price."
"Sweet! Very convenient! Just as I wanted to steal something!"
"Wade..."
An hour later, the money had changed hands. The truck was an old, sturdy double Toyota Hilux, and the attached camper trailer was dented and worn, but it was solid. It'll help them find their way to the cabin Wade been talking about.
He really hopes that cabin is real.
They really need some answer about their past.
As Logan drove the truck from the motel the next morning, the rumble of the engine a steady purr beneath him, he glanced in the rearview mirror. Marie had her arm around a dozing Laura, while Ken was staring out the window, mesmerized by the passing lights. In the passenger seat, Wade was already drawing up some cartoons with crayons he somehow found in whoknowswhere.
Logan didn't want to ask, since this is the first time he finally got his eldest son to shut up peacefully.
They had a long way to go to Saskatchewan.
A very long way to go…
"We gonna get there in the next chapter anyway, the author didn't know how to make a proper family field trip fics"