Steve frowned slightly, staring at the red-and-black masked man in front of him. His voice carried both suspicion and confusion.
"You know me?"
"Of… of course!" Deadpool replied dramatically, clutching his chest as if he had just been betrayed by destiny itself.
Steve narrowed his eyes. "You're mistaken. I've never seen you before."
Deadpool tilted his head. "Oh, I've seen you. But you've changed. You've become strong. Not weak anymore. I almost didn't recognize you. Do you still remember… Ada Wong from Daming Lake? She's been waiting for you for a long time."
Carter: ???
Steve: ???
"Who is Ada Wong?" they both asked at the same time.
Deadpool let out a long, disappointed sigh. "Sure enough, you still won't forgive her. Just like you won't forgive Claire."
"Who is Claire?" x2
Deadpool looked heartbroken. "What about Ashley? The child she's carrying is yours. You can't just deny that."
Carter slowly turned her head to look at Steve.
Steve panicked instantly. "No! I don't know any of those people!"
He noticed the way Carter's eyes sharpened. Her expression didn't change much, but something colder settled behind her gaze.
Deadpool gently shook his head. "And what about Bucky?"
Steve froze.
"You know Bucky too?"
Now it was Steve's turn to feel his heart sink. Before, he could have claimed coincidence—another man named Steve, someone who looked similar. But Bucky? There was no coincidence there.
Deadpool cleared his throat loudly. "James Buchanan Barnes. Your childhood best friend. Ashley's boyfriend."
The silence that followed felt heavier than any explosion.
"Wait," Carter said slowly. Her voice was calm, but her thoughts were sharp. "You just said Ashley's boyfriend is Steve's best friend Bucky. But the child she's carrying belongs to Steve?"
Deadpool's eyes widened in exaggerated horror. He covered his mouth. "Oh no. Was that supposed to be secret?"
He fake-coughed loudly.
Carter turned back to Steve. Her voice was clear, steady, and dangerously quiet.
"Corporal Steve Rogers. I heard you've never danced with a girl."
Steve felt a cold chill down his spine.
Before he could answer, Deadpool jumped in again.
"How is that possible? Orphaned background. Shy personality. That fragile, innocent look that makes women want to protect him. Which girl in Brooklyn doesn't know our shy little dance king—"
Steve lunged forward and clamped a hand over Deadpool's mouth.
"Carter, it's not like that," Steve said urgently. "Please, listen to me."
Unfortunately, the nervous smile on his face only made him look more guilty.
Carter smiled. It was bright and polite.
It was also terrifying.
"No need to explain," she said. "A strong life needs no explanation."
She turned calmly. "You watch him. I'll call a car and take him to the hospital."
Deadpool's eyes widened behind his mask.
Hospital?
Oh right.
I was shot.
He had been so busy causing chaos that he forgot about the bullet wound in his chest.
If he didn't have rapid healing, he would have bled out long ago.
Steve shivered again. Carter's bright smile felt colder than winter in the Arctic. For a moment, he imagined himself frozen solid—like a human popsicle stored for seventy years.
Watching Carter walk away, Steve clenched his teeth and turned to Deadpool.
"Talking nonsense is not a good habit."
Deadpool's tone changed suddenly.
"You really don't remember?"
He pulled off his mask.
Underneath was a face covered in severe burn scars. The skin was twisted and damaged. His expression, however, was painfully serious.
"I'm Wade," he said quietly. "Your childhood friend. I became this to save you."
Steve instinctively stepped back at the sight of the scars. But then he noticed the emotion in Deadpool's eyes.
"There's an old saying," Wade continued. "When a man is about to die, he speaks honestly. I'm dying. Why would I lie?"
Steve's heart wavered.
Did I lose my memory?
Did the super soldier serum affect more than just my body?
Was I really someone who hurt people? Betrayed friends?
Why didn't Bucky tell me anything?
Was he protecting me from painful truths?
The more Steve thought about it, the more uncertain he became.
His mind began to spin.
Deadpool leaned forward and blew gently at Steve's forehead.
"Cooling your brain," he said helpfully. "You're overheating."
Inside, Wade was proud.
My acting is incredible. I deserve my own award.
Steve rubbed his temples.
There was a strange feeling creeping into his thoughts. Like when you visit a place for the first time but it feels familiar. Like you've been there before.
The more he tried to dismiss Wade's words, the more they echoed.
He couldn't picture any of those women. No faces. No memories.
But the feeling of possibility refused to disappear.
Finally, Steve shook his head sharply.
"Enough."
He looked at Wade seriously.
"I don't remember any of it. If I hurt you before, I apologize. But I've changed. I care about Carter. Even if you're joking, please help me fix this."
Deadpool tilted his head.
"Wait. You actually believed that?"
Steve's face collapsed into pure frustration.
He pointed at Wade. "You— you— you absolute—"
Unfortunately, Steve had never been good at insults. His vocabulary for swearing was limited and painfully polite.
Deadpool yawned.
"My great-aunt insults better than that," Wade said casually.
Steve stood there, defeated by his own lack of verbal weapons.
Suddenly, the sound of brakes cut through the tension.
A car pulled up.
Carter stepped out, followed by a driver.
Steve quickly pointed at Deadpool.
"He's lying! Everything he said is fake! Complete nonsense!"
Deadpool calmly pulled his hood up and bowed deeply.
"I apologize," he said politely. "I lied."
Carter frowned slightly.
Something felt… off.
The driver scratched his head. "Didn't someone get shot? Who needs to go to the hospital?"
Carter blinked.
That's right.
Deadpool was shot.
Steve blinked.
That's right.
Deadpool was shot.
Deadpool looked down at his chest.
That's right.
He was shot.
He straightened slowly.
"It's fine now," he said awkwardly. "Minor issue."
Carter's eyes sharpened immediately.
Steve stared at the unbloodied clothing.
The bullet hole was there.
The wound wasn't.
The driver stared in confusion.
The air became silent.
Deadpool swallowed.
"Well… this is awkward."
Carter's hand moved faster than thought.
She drew her gun in a single smooth motion.
The click of the chamber loading echoed sharply.
Deadpool raised his hands.
"Let's not overreact—"
Bang!
The gunshot shattered the night air.
The bullet struck Deadpool square in the chest.
Steve flinched.
The driver ducked.
Deadpool staggered backward dramatically.
He looked down at his chest again.
A fresh hole. Blood.
He looked up slowly.
"Oh come on."
He fell to his knees.
Then he looked back up.
Still alive.
Still conscious.
Still talking.
Carter's eyes widened slightly.
Steve stared in disbelief.
Deadpool sighed.
"Okay, so here's the thing."
The wound began to close in front of their eyes.
Skin knitted together.
Blood stopped flowing.
Within seconds, there was nothing left but torn fabric.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Steve felt his brain hit maximum overload.
Bullet wounds don't just disappear.
Men don't heal instantly.
This defied every rule of reality he understood.
Carter slowly lowered her weapon—but did not relax.
"Explain," she said calmly.
Deadpool stood up and brushed dust off his suit.
"Good news: I'm not dying."
He paused.
"Bad news: I don't come with instructions."
Steve stared at him.
"You heal."
"Correct."
"From gunshots."
"Correct."
"Instantly."
"Also correct."
Steve's brain tried to process it.
Super soldiers.
Secret experiments.
Advanced science.
But this?
This was something else.
Deadpool placed a hand dramatically over his heart.
"Congratulations. You've met a medically confusing miracle."
Carter stepped closer.
"Who are you?"
Deadpool considered.
"A problem," he answered honestly.
Steve felt the weight of everything pressing down at once.
Fake lovers.
Fake scandals.
Real bullets.
Impossible healing.
Carter's suspicion.
His own doubts.
For a moment, he wondered if the super soldier serum had enhanced his body faster than his mind could adapt.
Was this the future of warfare?
Unkillable soldiers?
If so, what did that make Wade?
A weapon?
Or a warning?
Deadpool broke the silence.
"Look, can we all agree tonight has been emotionally exhausting?"
No one answered.
The street felt different now.
Heavier.
More serious.
Whatever joke had started this encounter was gone.
In its place stood a truth none of them were prepared for.
Deadpool could not die.
And Steve Rogers had just witnessed it.
Steve exhaled slowly.
"Carter… we need answers."
She nodded once.
"Yes. We do."
Deadpool smiled weakly.
"Oh good. Group project."
But for once, even he couldn't fully joke away the tension.
Because deep down, he knew something had changed.
This was no longer just chaos for fun.
Now they had seen what he truly was.
And that truth was far more dangerous than any lie he had told.
Steve's brain wasn't just overloaded.
It had entered a new battlefield.
One where strength wasn't enough.
One where reality itself didn't follow the rules.
And tonight, for the first time, Captain America realized—
There were things in this world even he didn't understand.