"I'm Ethan. A doctor here. And as you can probably tell, I'm here against my will."
The thin man adjusted his posture slightly on the iron bed, exhaustion visible in his eyes but intelligence shining beneath it.
"Wade Wilson," Deadpool replied proudly. "But you can also call me Deadpool Master."
"Deadpool?" Ethan paused thoughtfully. "I think I've heard that name before. Is it some kind of death game?"
Deadpool gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up.
"That's right! A betting pool on who dies first on a list."
Ethan frowned slightly.
That didn't sound healthy.
"Never mind," he said calmly. "I'll just call you Wade."
Death games, scarred skin, gunshot wounds… Ethan decided it was better not to dig deeper into that particular psychological minefield.
He leaned back and yawned quietly.
"Wade… how did you get here?"
Deadpool stretched casually.
"You probably won't believe me, but I was in my friend's car. I opened the door… and boom. Desert cave."
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
"So your friend met a robotic cat from the future, borrowed a magical door, and replaced his car door with it?"
Deadpool pointed at him dramatically.
"I like people who had a childhood."
Ethan shook his head.
"I only heard about it. I didn't have the luxury to watch those things growing up."
"Then you missed out on some life education."
Deadpool put his shirt back on loosely.
"When I was a kid, after watching that show, I thought I had a superpower too."
Ethan didn't look up.
"Should I be concerned?"
"Sometimes," Deadpool continued proudly, "the thing I use to pee would suddenly get bigger. And because there was no restore button, it would take a while to shrink back. Exactly like a growth ray effect!"
Ethan closed his eyes slowly.
"So… how did you realize it wasn't a superpower?"
"In elementary school, the teacher asked us to demonstrate our special talent in front of the class."
Ethan stared at him silently.
"My condolences."
Deadpool blinked.
"Why condolences? At least my talent was impressive."
He held up two fingers and slowly spread them apart as if measuring something invisible.
Ethan sighed.
"Are you suggesting your entire existence is built around that?"
Deadpool touched his bald head.
"I like that interpretation. But if that's true… shouldn't my head be larger?"
Ethan glanced casually.
"It's not just small. It's ugly."
Deadpool gasped dramatically.
"Oh my goodness. That venom. I love it."
"Sorry. Ugly rejected."
Deadpool placed a hand over his heart.
"Pain. Emotional damage."
Ethan decided to shift the topic.
"When they question you tomorrow, don't say anything. I'll handle it."
He lay back down on the bunk, intending to sleep.
Then he saw Deadpool rubbing his hands together and approaching the bed.
"What are you doing?"
"Sleeping!"
Ethan's voice became serious.
"This is a single bed."
"It's fine. I can temporarily stop being human."
Ethan's eyes widened.
"Do not come closer."
---
The Next Morning
Strangely, no interrogation came.
If not for the brief food delivery through the iron door, it would have felt like they had been completely forgotten.
Deadpool lay flat on the bed, staring at the stone ceiling.
"This is your daily life?"
Ethan stood near the table, back facing him.
"No. I used to move around freely inside the camp."
Deadpool suddenly sat upright.
"Is it because of me?"
He slapped his thigh dramatically.
"Of course! Deadpool Master is too powerful. They're probably in an emergency meeting right now."
Ethan didn't turn around.
"Oh?"
"Discussing whether to surrender, appoint me as supreme leader, hand over treasure, women, and territory, then send us home with full military honors."
Ethan replied dryly.
"I think that's extremely unlikely."
"That's because you haven't witnessed my true abilities."
"Like your imaginary growth ray?"
Deadpool gasped.
"You underestimate me."
Ethan finally faced him.
"So what is your true ability? Thick skin?"
Deadpool pointed proudly at himself.
"I possess something a million times stronger."
"What? Unfiltered speech?"
Deadpool squinted.
"When I watched the movie, I didn't realize your tongue was this sharp."
Ethan frowned.
"What movie?"
"Nothing. Sci-fi action blockbuster. Two leads. One looks a lot like you."
Ethan paused.
"And the other?"
"You wish."
"Then I have no objections."
Deadpool stood dramatically.
"That means you object to me! Draw your sword! Duel!"
Ethan calmly lifted the scalpel in his hand.
"Is that a challenge?"
Deadpool immediately backed away.
"Whoa. Easy. Medical professionals are scary."
Ethan turned back toward the table.
"Lie down. I'm changing your dressing."
Deadpool hesitated.
"If I told you I've already healed, would you believe me?"
Ethan didn't look at him.
"What do you think?"
"Believing doesn't cost anything. It's not like I'll get pregnant."
Still, Deadpool lay down obediently.
Ethan carefully unwrapped the bandage.
He paused.
The wound was almost closed.
He narrowed his eyes.
"You heal abnormally fast."
Deadpool grinned.
"Special skill number one."
"And number two?"
"I annoy enemies into surrender."
"Unlikely."
"Number three: I survive situations that should kill me."
Ethan studied him seriously now.
"You are not normal."
Deadpool's expression briefly softened.
"Neither are you."
Before Ethan could respond—
Heavy footsteps thundered outside the iron door.
Ethan's face drained of color.
He quickly crouched down, placing the medical tray on the ground.
He covered his head.
"Wade. Stop joking. Do as I do."
Deadpool sighed.
"I still prefer hands up. More theatrical."
He crouched anyway.
The iron door burst open violently.
Four armed men rushed in, carrying a makeshift stretcher.
They transferred the unconscious man from the stretcher onto the single bed.
Deadpool leaned slightly to get a better look.
He froze.
That face.
Unconscious. Injured. Bound.
It was him.
Tony Stark.
The birth of Iron Man was about to begin.
A bald man with a commanding presence stepped forward.
Raza.
He grabbed Ethan by the collar and pulled him close.
"Save him," Raza said coldly in English. "Or you die with him. Understand?"
Ethan trembled slightly but nodded.
"Understood."
Raza's eyes shifted to Deadpool.
Barnett, the bearded subordinate, hurriedly whispered something in another language.
Raza raised his pistol without hesitation.
"I don't have time for excuses."
"Don't!"
Ethan stepped in front of Deadpool instinctively.
All guns in the room immediately pointed at them.
Ethan raised his hands slowly.
"This man is badly injured. Surgery and recovery will be complex. I need an English-speaking assistant."
Raza's eyes narrowed.
Ethan continued carefully.
"You can strip him and search him again. He has nothing."
He swallowed.
"Please. Don't kill him."
Deadpool looked at Ethan.
For the first time since arriving—
He stopped joking.
Because now—
History was unfolding.
And Deadpool's "special skills" were about to be tested in the most important cave in the Marvel universe.
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