I thought you were playing a mean joke on me this morning and tryin' ta dump me and I was gonna go back and smash your head in with my mallet if it was true, but it's not right?
He doesn't ask himself why he did it, he doesn't need to because he knows. It was equal parts love and guilt. Love for a woman he never wanted to lose and guilt for inadvertently making her think he wanted out. Though the situation with Anna had been out of his control, a mess had still been made, and he felt he had much to make up for. She had been confused and hurt and fully convinced he wanted out, and though he had explained multiple times that it wasn't the case, that he hadn't meant to wake up in someone else's body, he could not shake that guilt.
Guilt was something that Wade didn't feel often; it was an emotion reserved for Jack. But even he had to admit that what they had done was fucked up. Sure, he'd made a lot of mistakes in the past and even tried to kill his closest friend out of jealousy, but that was so long ago. He had changed. He worked with the good guys more than he did against them. Most of the people in those cells had been their friends – or so he had later found out. Something about not knowing the specifics of the people being tortured had made it easier to enjoy himself, which was the most terrifying thing of all.
He'd held his head up high and smiled while his friends were put through terrible things. He'd sung along to countless power ballads while they were electrocuted, stabbed, or worse. He had enjoyed himself while his best friend became his girlfriend's play thing. Playing dumb, like he hadn't known, wasn't going to make it okay. It didn't matter because he hadn't bothered to figure it out. Wade had been too focused on making amends with his girlfriend to realize just how fucked up what they were doing was. While he told her over and over again that he had done worse and that all would be forgiven, he found himself wondering if the same could be said for him. Had this been the final straw? Had he finally taken things too far?
Jack was afraid to find out, so he did something he normally didn't: he avoided the problem. He kept to himself, making little effort to check on his friends for fear that they hated him. No, he knew they did. It was easier that way. They had run from the fight at Arkham and hidden away, but even now that weeks had passed and it seemed as if things were going back to normal, everything felt off. He was sorry, beyond sorry, but he didn't know how to express that. He didn't know how to make it up to his friends. No manner of gift or apology could make it right. It didn't matter if he meant it, not in a situation like this.
Years ago, Wade wouldn't have cared so much. He would have laughed it off and gone about business as usual. He was a changed man now, given a capacity to love and care thanks to the other voice in his head. For once in his life, there was sane presence helping him toe the line, and it made the guilt that much worse. Being present in Jack's head all the time certainly had its perks, something even Jack could admit for Wade. They had embraced one another, found some odd common ground on the crazy spectrum, and a lot of that was thanks to those closest to him.
With the good, came the bad, and for Wade, it was being overwhelmed with emotions. It made him retreat and relinquish all control to Jack, who was left to deal with everything. But he wasn't dealing, not really. He was pushing the negative to the side and focusing on the bright spots in his life. His girlfriend, his pets, his job, and the few people that still talked to him. It was easier that way, easier to pretend everything was okay and that he was okay. It was what he had always done before, when he hadn't understood what was happening, and it was what he was going to do now. It was the only thing he could do to keep from completely breaking down.