Wow has it been awhile! I don't have much to say except it's good to be back! I hope you like the new idea for a story I had, it's based off of the Deadpool movie, but there will be a lot of differences. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Deadpool or any of the characters in the comic books or the movies. I own Harper and that's it.

Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children was not an easy place to find, but when found it could be the stepping stone to finding anything your little heart desired. That was what someone had told Harper Lee Hill. She stepped into the bar and found it exactly as he had described, dark, dingy, smelled like cheap liquor and armpit, and even in the middle of the day a few regulars sat at their designated spots, drinking, watching TV and playing pool. A young man stood behind the counter, wiping off a glass with a rag that looked surprisingly clean compared to the establishment she had just walked into. Harper walked over to the counter and took a seat on one of the mismatched stools before looking at the bartender who seemed very out of place compared to the people in the bar. He was younger, thinner, and looked nothing like a merc. This had to be the man she'd heard about before, Weasel.

"What can I get you?" he asked as he gave her the same scrutinizing look she was giving him.

"I um, I'm actually looking for someone," Harper stated. "His name is Wade, Wade Wilson."

"Never heard of him." he turned to set the glass down and pick up a new one to start drying.

"You're Weasel, right?" she asked making him look back to her. "Wade told me a lot about you."

"And who are you supposed to be?" Weasel looked her over again. She knew what he would see, red hair that went to her slightly pointed jaw, a short, slim stature, a young face, and a pair of purple gloves that under her jacket went to her elbows.

"My name is Harper, Wade and I are old friends."

"Wade doesn't have any friends."

"Well he seemed to think of you as a friend." she smiled at him lightly. "In fact, I believe he called you the world's worst friend, because of the um," she looked above the bar where a chalkboard hung naming people who had been bet upon, by whom and for what amount of money in what the bar affectionately called their "Dead Pool". "Well, you know." she shrugged before looking back to the bartender who stared at her.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Harper. Wade and I were in superhero camp together."

Harper sat in the doctor's office, her hands clasped in her lap as she stared at the desk in front of her. "Ms. Hill?" she looked back at the doctor, away from the kittens in baskets daily calendar that showed two orange kittens in a wicker basket to look at there oncologist. The same oncologist that had been treating her for the past three years, and the same oncologist that had just finished telling her that the cancer wasn't responding as they had hoped to the chemo; that it was getting more aggressive and had found itself a new home in all the places it hadn't even touched yet. She stared at thin, his balding head, his sagging eyes and his disgusting 70's porn star mustache. "Ms. Hill, at this point we think it's for the best to cease treatment."

"No more chemo…"

"No."

"Because it's not helping?"

"Your test results-"

"I don't want to hear any more about test results okay? The fact of the matter is, I'm dying. Right?" Harper stared at Dr. Witney for a long moment before he shut his eyes and ran a hand down his face.

"This is the part of the job I hate the most."

"You think you hate it?" she asked before she stood up.

"Now, Ms. Hill, I know this is a lot to take it." Dr. Witney stood when she did, making her look back at him.

"It's not really. We start dying from the moment we're born, some of us never know when it's going to happen, and some of us do. So how long would you say I have left?"

"There's no way to know for sure-"

"How long Dr. Witney?"

"Six months." he said softly, sitting back down. Harper nodded and then turned to the door.

"Thank you for your time." She left without saying another word.

Harper wasn't sure how long she walked, it must have been hours, when she left the hospital it was daytime, but when she finally walked in the door, soaked from the rain it was night. After stepping out of her shoes Harper tossed her purse onto the couch and walked towards her bedroom, peeling her shirt off as she went.

Her parents had rented the apartment for her when she turned 18, not wanting her to miss out on anything just because of her cancer, they had done everything for her from the time she was a young teenager when she had been first diagnosed.

Now, at 21, she knew how privileged she was, but she didn't hold it against herself, especially not now. Now she was happy for the privacy, happy to be away from her parents who would be asking her a million questions and telling her this was all a part of god's plan and trying to take her to church and faith healers.

Hell at this point, she wasn't sure a faith healer wasn't a good idea.

Harper stripped out of her jeans and tossed them, along with her soaked shirt and underwear into the hamper before looking at herself in the full length mirror on the closet door. Her once long, healthy red hair that had hung well past her shoulders was chopped close to her skull having started growing back a few months ago. She had shaved it all off when she started losing her hair. Harper had heard stories about best friends or even family members shaving their hair off in solidarity with their friends/family members with cancer, but she hadn't had many friends since she had been diagnosed, which wasn't for lack of trying on their behalf, but when the diagnosis came through she had decided that she wasn't taking her friends down that road. As for her parents, they were far too vain to do something like that. Moving her eyes down she followed her body shape in the mirror, she looked sick. Eating was hard after chemotherapy and the once extremely fit body she'd had as a young girl on the cheer team for her middle school football team had deteriorated over the years. When she was 16 while most girls were getting their drivers license and going to homecoming Harper was having a double mastectomy. At 20 she had gotten breast implants to even out the look. It was the only thing that looked healthy about her in her opinion.

Harper slept for most of the next day, and when she did wake up, she laid in bed, thinking about the end. Six months wasn't a long time, she would have to do some preparations before then, write out a will, figure out funeral arrangements. She didn't want to leave all of that to her parents. She would need a good lawyer. She lay in bed thinking about lawyers and who to call first when her train of thought was cut off by a knock at her door. She frowned before she got out of bed, wrapping a thick bathrobe around her body and tying it shut she walked to the door and opened it. "Can I help you?" she asked the man standing behind the door, his eyes met her and he smiled.

"Miss Hill, I know you've been diagnosed with terminal cancer."

"Why do you know that?" Harper frowned, was he some person her parents had met at church? He couldn't be, they didn't even know she was terminal yet.

"It's my job to know Miss Hill. Please, may I?" he gestured to the door making her look at it and then at him for a moment.

"Sure…" she opened the door a little wider, against her better judgement. There was something about this man, something that made her interested to hear what he had to say.

"I'm very sorry to hear about your diagnosis Miss Hill." he said though she wasn't sure that the man in black was all that sorry.

"For some reason I don't think you are all that sorry." she stated as she watched him make himself comfortable on her couch. The dark color of his suit made her yellow couch seem all the brighter. Pale blue walls, a yellow couch- it was like she lived in a god damn easter egg, and yet there was this man in a dark suit arraying around a dark aura making her feel more uneasy than she did when she realized her oncologist wasn't going to shave off the porn star mustache.

"While it is true, my job does require patients in your unique predicament for our program, I've read your file. Cheerleader, very popular, diagnosed with breast cancer at fifteen." he sighed as he looked her over making her look down. "It was in remission for awhile wasn't it?"

"Until it wasn't." she replied and looked back at him. "Not to be rude, but why are you here?"

"Well, as I've said before, I'm the recruiter for an extraordinary program looking for individuals such as yourself. We can cure your cancer, and give you abilities you've never even dreamed of."

"What's the catch?" the man looked surprised, like he hadn't expected that response from her before covering his surprise with a slick smile.

"Who says there's a catch?"

"You know you should really work on the answer to that question, no one is going to believe you're just some boy scout running around and healing people's cancer for nothing. What's the catch?"

"The process to make you better isn't a pleasant one-"

"Neither is chemo."

"This process will not only heal your cancer but it will also give you powers and abilities. Our only request is that you use your powers in a responsible way, a way to make things better."

"You mean like a superhero?" Harper stood in front of the armchair across from the man on her couch, a small frown etched into her face.

"Exactly like a superhero." he smiled as she sank into the armchair, staring at him in disbelief.

"Me? You want me to be a superhero?"

"We want to give you the opportunity to become a hero, yes." he nodded.

"And if it doesn't work?" she would normally be chewing on her nails at the point, stress and anxiety had left her with a few small bad habits, but the chemo had kicked her nail biting habit when her nails started to turn yellow and get so brittle she almost tore one off.

"If it doesn't work, are you any worse off than you are right now?" he asked making her face fall as she thought about the question.

Even if the superhero stuff didn't work, she would have given it every last shot to get rid of her cancer. If these guys could do what her oncologist couldn't and she survived, it would be what her parents referred to as a miracle. "When do I start?" she looked up, the words surprising even her as she spoke them. The smile on the recruiter's face grew at her words and he stood up.

"Welcome to the team Miss Hill."

Hey guys, hope you liked it. I know it's been awhile since I've posted or written anything so I hope I'm not losing my touch. For the moment my other stories that are unfinished are on hiatus, maybe I'll get to them if I get the muse to do that. Let me know what you think of this story in the comments, and remember this is only chapter one!