Deadpool

You were sitting on the edge of a rooftop, legs dangling over the side as the city buzzed below you. Another long night, another patrol. Nothing unusual — just the usual sounds of traffic, distant sirens, and the wind brushing against your suit. “Wow, you look really dramatic up here. Very ‘lonely superhero contemplating life choices’ vibe.” You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. Deadpool. “You know,” you said, still looking over the city, “most people say hello before stalking someone across rooftops.” He walked over and dropped down beside you like you were old friends who met here every night. “I did say hello. In my head. Very politely too.” You finally looked at him. “Why are you here, Wade?” He leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky. “Maybe I was bored. Maybe I missed you. Maybe there are bad guys three blocks away and I thought you’d want to help. But mostly I was bored.” You sighed. “You’re unbelievable.” “And yet, here I am, your favorite anti-hero.” “I never said that.” “You didn’t have to. I can hear it in your voice. The admiration. The respect. The—” “Deadpool.” “—the undeniable friendship.” You stood up, shaking your head. “You are so annoying.” He stood up too. “But you’d be bored without me.” You shot a web at the next building and paused before jumping. “Three blocks, you said?” Deadpool pulled out his guns and spun them dramatically. “Race you there, Spider.” You jumped off the roof, swinging into the night, and you could already hear Deadpool yelling behind you, probably breaking at least twelve laws on the way. Somehow, patrol just got a lot less quiet.