#rooftop ramblings

[ao3feed-poolverine]

Rooftop Ramblings

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by red_panda28

“What did your dumb ass do to send your boytoy running like that?” Blind Al asked.

“Nothing,” Wade protested.

This whole behaviour reminded Wade of the time back at the very beginning, when Logan still had the tendency to shut him out and it left a heavy feeling in Wade’s stomach.

“I’m gonna go check on him,” Wade decided.

 OR

Logan and Wade have a heart to heart on the rooftop ----- written for Poolverine Flufftober 2025 Day 11: Late Night Talks (part of a series but can be read independently)

Words: 1169, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 11 of Panda's Poolverine Flufftober 2025

Fandoms: Deadpool (Movieverse)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Logan | Worst Wolverine (Deadpool Movies), Wade Wilson, Blind Al (Deadpool)

Relationships: Logan | Worst Wolverine (Deadpool Movies)/Wade Wilson

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, I'm Sorry, Late Night Conversations, Kissing, Emotional, they're in LOVE your honour, They just haven't said it yet

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[abigailtress]

Ian || Abbie

“I’d come back, I definitely would. I probably would take time off to blow some steam and smoke a pack, but I’d come back. I don’t think I could find any closure, knowing that you were still upset with me. I’d try to fix up whatever I fucked up, and then, after weeks of pursuing you, and you still didn’t want me back in your life, I’d back off.” The Brit stared into the distance and rubbed small circles onto her side, softly humming to dispel the silence that loomed overhead. 

Ian’s eyes shot open at the sound of her voice saying, “That’s a lot of blood,” staring down and horrified as he saw a dark, menacing cloud of red pooling from her hand. “Fuck, Abs. What did you do?” he whispered, spying the piece of metal that gleamed in the sunlight, the silver tinted with a metallic red. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured, collecting the girl in his arms and cautiously stepping down the stairs, so that she wouldn’t go tumbling down. “Just hang on, okay? Stay in there, Abs.” 

The Brit had never believed in higher powers, but he prayed to all he could name, for her sake. She was going to be okay. She had to be okay. “Fuck fuck fuck,” he cussed, breaking into a run. Thankfully, he had spent numerous hours at the gym, lifting weights and building his tolerance for heavier objects. Ian slowed down to a walk as he neared the hospital wing, staring down at the girl he cared so much about. He winced when he realised that she was drifting in and out of consciousness, the pain coursing through her every pore. “Sorry Abs, but it’s for your own good,” he apologised, then commanding her to sleep. 

He felt the power flowing from his voice and into her brain, putting her into a temporary sleep. Just for now, she’ll never know, he tried to reason with himself, having used his power on her once more. At least she’s not in pain anymore.Ian was trying to reassure himself that his display of power was acceptable, handing the girl over to the nurses as they carted her off, the boy following quickly. He scowled as one of the doctors tried to stop him, saying that it was ‘staff only’. “You will let me in,” he growled, manipulating the man’s mind to comply with his wishes. “You can come on in,” the doctor smiled, ushering Ian along and to the room where Abi resided, blood staining the white of the hospital floor. 

“Oh god, Abs,” he muttered, collapsing into a hard, plastic chair that the facility provided, slumping in his seat and knowing that he was going to have to brave through a very, very long night. 

Abbie could vaguely remember being bounced up and down. She felt so light, as if she could float into the sky. She could sense Ian's panic, and giggled a little. Why so panicked, silly boy? she thought, trying to lift a hand to cup his face. But she couldn't find the strength. Then, she was looking into his big, green orbs and found herself falling asleep.

When she woke up, she saw a large gash from her wrist to her palm up to the tip of her middle finger. Abbie held it up to the light admiring the pink puckered flesh. It was so strange. Then, she looked over to see a curly haired boy sprawled across the visitors' chairs. Knowing he stayed warmed her heart, and she knew he'd want to know she was alright. His mind was blaring the nightmare playing in his subconscious. She vaguely caught a glimpse of a headstone that said her name and her own voice whispering, "Your fault, your fault" before she woke him up.

"Ian. Ian, love. Wake up." She called him gently. Her voice was hoarse and her head was light, but she needed to hear his voice. It was the best medicine. "C'mon, love. I'm right here." Then she began to sing to him, because that's the way her mother used to wake her up from every nightmare. She only hoped her song could wake him up as peacefully.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray. I hope you know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."

[abigailtress]

Ian || Abbie

“I know,” he mumbled, wrapping an arm around Abi’s waist and pulling her closer, her presence and knowledge of forgiveness giving him what he wanted most. Closure. “Because you can’t just depend on me, Abs. As much as I’d love that, just me and you, it’s not. What happens if I just died one day? Got infected? What would you do then? Because crawling up in a ball and rocking back and forth is not acceptable. You’re stronger than that, Abs. I just need reassurance that someone’s gonna be able to take of you if I’m not there for some reason. You needto be safe, youneedto be okay.”

He frowned as she asked him a pressing question, not knowing where that idea came from. “Of course I’d fight for us. Everyday, all day, all night, twenty four/seven.” Ian hesitated slightly, a dark thought crossing his mind. “But…” the Brit continued, knowing that Abi had already known what he was about to say, so there was no point of holding it back. “If you asked me to leave and never come back, and told me that every time I tried to come close, I don’t know. It would hurt, and it’d hurt bad. If you asked for me to leave and never converse with you, I would. But if you asked me to come back, I’d probably come running back, without a second thought. If distance is what you want, I’ll grant you it.”

"Ian," Abbie said giving him a playful shove. "If you got Infected or if you died, sure I'd be depressed. But I know that's not how you'd want me to live my life. I know that you'd want me to go out and try to reconnect with the world. For me to grow old and tell little Ian about his namesake. I'm just saying it's hard for me. People don't trust me because of what I can do. But I'll try. Maybe with that new recruit, Fletcher. He's a year older than us, you know, and he looks like he could use a friend."

It comforted her to know that he would fight. She needed that reassurance. "It's just, you were thinking about whether or not it would be better if we had never met, and I got to thinking too. If we got really steamed at each other one day, would you come back? Because, you know me. I'm too proud. I don't know if I could reach out to you without you reaching out first."

Abbie was coming down from her adrenaline high, and she felt a sharp pain in her left hand. Her whole arm began to throb and she clutched it in pain. She hadn't realized how tightly she was clenching her fist until she had to use the other hand to pry it open. Then, a razor fell out of her palm. "That's a lot of blood." She said, before she passed out.

[abigailtress]

Ian || Abbie

The curly haired boy flicked the ashes off of the roof and watched as it dispersed with the wind, humming a soft sort of tune in his moment of brief tranquility. His eyes snapped open when he heard the thunderous sound of footsteps beating against the ground, breaking his moment of serenity. He knew who it would be - the one and only Abigail Tress. 

Ian scowled and smashed the butt of the cigarette against the roof’s surface, effectively snuffing it out. ” He sighed as he felt the girl wrap her arms around him, babbling on about how she was scared he was going to jump, scared to lose him. “You jump, I jump,” he quoted from a classic movie, the Titanic’s iconic line popping into his head at this moment. “Never let go,” the curly haired boy continued, though he didn’t really know why. Anything to try to dispel the awkwardness. Even if he was just quoting movies. 

“Matthew. My middle name’s Matthew,” he said with an amused look, not looking over at his friend, rather at the people who were milling about, living their insignificant lives. “Forgetting in your old age? You sure you’re Abigail Tress?” he inquired, a small smile ghosting over his features. “You’re one in a kind, mate,” Ian said affectionately, not being able to bring himself to look into her eyes, for they contained so much emotion, something he couldn’t bear to endure. 

“I love you too,” he murmured, finally looking over at her familiar face, rubbing his eyes due to the lack of sleep. “You know I could never hate you,” he stated, for he assumed that nothing in the world could cause him to hate her. She could be annoying, irksome, bothersome, intrusive, nosy, and all of that sort, but hate? Never. “I’m pretty sure there are people out there, other than me. You just have to look for the right ones.”

Abbie knew he felt awkward, that she was babbling, and that he was probably wishing he was anywhere but near her right now. So she let go and sat next to him, but she kept their shoulders touching just so she could feel his warmth and know he was alive.

"I'm sorry I called you James. That was my brother's middle name, and I'm used to saying it when I yell at people." She leaned a bit into him. "I don't know if I want to find the right ones, Ian. My history's shown I'm rubbish at picking friends. And why sift through all of the bad if I already have all of the good?"

Something was bothering her though, Ian thought she'd be better off without him, so she had to ask. "Ian, if I had refused to talk to you ever again. Would you have fought? And try to win me back? Or would you just have let me go?"

[abigailtress]

Ian || Abbie

I guess I’m not that great person you always thought I was,” the curly haired boy said stoically, fiddling with his fingers and pushing the plate of food away. Whenever he didn’t want to think about something - his ex-girlfriend being the current case, he defended himself with cruel words, harsh saying in order for the other person to back off. And unfortunately, the person was Abi. It worked, didn’t it?a small voice in the back of his head chimed, the Brit wanting to smack himself into oblivion. 

Ian maintained a straight face while Abi lost her cool, something that neverhappened, and to be quite honest, it worried him. However, no emotions flit through his face, but there was no point. She could read his emotions, the ones that were hidden underneath the surface, and he had nowhere to hide. 

It was always the same ones, whenever it came to fighting her. Regret. Sorrow. Remorse. Guilt. The curly haired boy watched as she stormed away, his emerald hues observing her every step.What if I was never her friend? She wouldn’t keep getting hurt by me,he mused, getting up, the food forgotten. His feet naturally made their way outside, the boy always having sought refuge on higher ground. And the only logical thing to do now? Go up.

Getting on the roof was easy - far too easy, and the boy easily swung himself on. He sighed as crept right up to the edge, dangling his feet and knowing that he was on the brink of insanity, on the brink of the rooftop, ready to fall into a bloody mess of a human being. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with all this shit, he thought bitterly as he stared at the ground, knowing that if he jumped, he would be but another speck on the ground. 

His momentary, suicidal thoughts vanished and the serenity and solitude that he originally sought, were coming back. The curly haired boy sighed as he got up once more, looking for the only thing that could make him better, the only thing that could keep the boy calm. Cigarettes. He had often climbed onto the roof before, and kept a small stash in a disclosed location, grabbing a roll and his lighter. Ian placed the hazardous roll to his lips and ignited the end, feeling the cooling and relaxing properties sink in. 

“That’s better,” he murmured, resuming his previous position by the edge of the roof, inhaling and exhaling the dangerous smoke, watching as it dispersed into millions of particles, never to be seen again. The Brit merely observed the people milling about in their trivial lives, and none of them looked up. They never did. Which was exactly why this particular location was where he could hide best, because people seldom look up. Ian smiled at his momentary tranquility,but as his horrid luck would have it, it didn’t last long. It never did. 

Abbie walked into the bathroom, and felt his mind leave behind her. She didn't know where he was going, but his thoughts were traveling towards the somber. He kept thinking what it would be like if they had never become friends. And as soon as he thought it, Abbie felt like a knife had been stuck in her chest. He thought she would be better off without him? Sure she was angry, but nothing, no one could ever replace Ian. He was her knight in shining armor.

She grew disgusted with herself and went to her drawer to fetch something she promised she would never use. A razor. Abbie was holding it over her skin, not knowing where to start or how to begin, when morbid thoughts from Ian pierced her consciousness. The thought of jumping off the roof, landing on the ground played on a loop over and over in her head. She had always been hyperaware of Ian's thoughts, wherever he was, and this was scaring her. Then, all of a sudden silence.

Without realizing what she was doing, she had her fists clenched and she was beating people aside on her mad dash to the roof. He couldn't leave her. Not yet. Not after everything they'd been through. She climbed step after step, hoping, praying to whoever was above that she wasn't too late.

She burst through the doors panting and crazy-eyed, and all she could feel was exasperation. From Ian. He was alive. She didn't care that he was smoking, that she may be his least favorite person, Abbie hugged him as tightly as she could and gave him the biggest kiss on the cheek that she could manage. "I-I-I thought you w-were going to j-jump." Abbie stuttered. "I-I thought you w-were going to leave m-me."

Then, she looked him square in the eye, "Ian James Coxx, never thunk about that again. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so stubborn and moody and rude. I'm sorry for being less than the perfect friend that you deserve. Because you deserve so much better than me. And, I know it's selfish. But don't go. I'd rather have you on this Earth hating me, than in heaven finding forgiveness. You are everything to me, and the thought of being in this world without you in it. Well, let's just say I would have jumped off this building after you. I love you too much to lose you."