Chapter Text
Wade and Peter were prepping for their next HYDRA base raid, watching the building below from the rooftop of an apartment across the street.
“Remember DP, no killing ,” Peter said with his feet dangling off of the roof. They still had time before they went in guns blazing.
“But they’re Nazi assholes Spidey! What are they gonna do, grow a conscience?”
Admittedly, Peter did not have much of a retort; Wade was right, willing HYDRA agents have never made use of their second chance. “Come on, just this one time. Pretty please Petey-pie, with whipped cream, some rainbow sprinkles, chocolate chips, ooo and maybe those colourful mini marshmallows—?”
“No. No killing,” Peter cut off his rambling, voice stern before switching to a more mischievous tone, “but, I guess some accidental non-lethal bullet wounds here and there couldn’t have been helped. It would be such a shame.”
“Oh you sneaky bastard, Spidey,” Wade sing-songed, wagging his finger then booping Peter on his nose. Peter promptly smacked his hand away and turned his attention back to their target.
Although he could flush out the entire base in only an hour or so, Peter, for once, decided to be responsible and bring some backup, but not responsible enough to bring backup in the form of a vigilante with more common sense and self-preservation than himself (i.e. Matt, though the self-preservation is debatable).
He only resorted to this because he had an exam the following day that he would really rather not flunk or be late to (again). This definitely had no relation to last week’s solo mission, in which he took longer to find the exit than to incapacitate the entirety of the HYDRA base.
The halls of the base were filled with the blaring of alarms and one Spider-Man wandering around the labyrinth asking webbed up guards for directions and keeping an eye out for a green fluorescent exit sign.
Look, he would have made it out a lot quicker if the not-so-secret organisation had the decency to follow the basic fire safety conduct and label their exits. If he could take out their entire base, Peter figured he at least earned that much.
“DP, I think that’s our opening,” Peter said, waving his arm in Wade’s general direction, as he watched the two HYDRA guards walking out of the building for the guard shift.
Two seconds later, the unsuspecting guards were baffled by the disappearance of their colleagues, completely unaware the two were dangling upside down, webbed up to the nearby streetlights, and even more unaware that they were soon to follow.
“Lead the way baby boy!” Wade exclaimed.
Peter jumped off the ledge, shooting a tendril from either wrist to the guards mid-air. He then tugged as he landed on the wall of the building, pulling the guards up and webbed them to the street lights along with their friends.
“There, all snug and tight,” Peter said, voice full of mirth and excitement as Wade made his way to the door of the base, drawing his guns—pink BB bullets now swapped out for hard, metal and gunpowder bullets.
“Going to sleep already? The party’s just getting started.” Wade kicked the door down and started firing, Peter following closely behind shooting with his web shooters and sending kicks around the room.
———< o >———
Everything was going great for once, Peter thought as he knocked the last guard off the base. Except, another wave of guards arrived promptly after.
So, scratch that. Parker luck struck again.
They had been fighting for a good 30 minutes and should have been done with the base already, except the guards kept on coming despite no reinforcements having been called.
That was, until Peter realised that they had managed to cut through his webbing. Once he did a perfect spin kick on the oncoming guard, sending him flying and unconscious, Peter facepalmed. He had been too busy laughing at the latest trash fire meme Ned had sent him during chemistry to pay attention to the ratio of his latest web solution he was brewing under the table, resulting in a weaker web fluid.
His web shooters were now rendered useless and he would rather avoid any proper hand-to-hand combat because he was still nursing a wound from his patrol earlier in the day and he really wanted to avoid the line of questioning from MJ regarding any visible bruises he was inevitably going to have the next day.
Peter was definitely going to have to ask Matt for more training, preferably more on how to not get hit rather than learning how to stay up and fight despite having multiple injuries.
Considering his options, Peter decided on the easiest and most available one.
“Looks like we’re going old school,” Peter called out to the approaching wave of guards that had managed to cut out his webbing.
Peter shot out a tendril at Wade who was standing further down the hallway dealing with another wave of guards coming from the other end. His webs made contact with the gun holstered on Wade’s thigh still. The man only had two hands, he couldn’t give all his guns the same amount of love, so Wade settled on at least bringing them out together (“Like a family trip!” he had exclaimed when Peter asked about his excess in firearms).
“I haven’t been killing!” Wade yelled as he shot another guard in the calf, clearly thinking that Peter was confiscating his weapons for bad behaviour.
“I know, you’re doing great!” Peter yelled back with praise to make sure Wade didn’t get the wrong idea.
Tugging the gun into his hand, Peter adjusted his grip on the gun and thanked Noir for his insistence on teaching before he aimed and started shooting.
After learning of the existence of the spider-verse on accident when the force ghost contacted Noir, Peter and Noir had been inseparable. Noir acted like his long-distance mentor and older brother, teaching him all the tricks of being a Spider and introducing him to his new family: the Spider gang.
He also taught Peter lots of the lessons he learned from his own universe, including investigative journalism, afterall he couldn’t let his experience under the infamous Ben Urich go to waste. Peter also shared his own precious knowledge, more so on the tech side, such as upgrading Noir’s web shooters, mostly as an insult to the web guns.
But, that stunt just got him another lesson from Noir at their routinely, usually monthly, multiverse meetings (M&M patent pending). He had taught Peter how to shoot a gun, both the traditional way and using their spider powers to sharp shoot and dodge bullets more effectively. It was really just a gun safety lesson, but tailored more to a spider vigilantism life.
In no time, Peter was the best sharp shooter in the spider-verse, rivalled only by Noir himself, who used the web guns on a daily basis (he claimed it worked better with the aesthetic, and Peter really couldn’t disagree; the black fedora, coat and suit really did work with the pistols).
Though Noir couldn’t take all the credit, Peter already had a good basis having one of the best cops in Queens as his own uncle. Uncle Ben hadn’t been able to teach him much about gun safety given Peter was quite young, but he still had some knowledge and had seen Ben in action himself.
Only two guards remained standing and conscious, and Peter, wanting to add to his showmanship, decided to unload the gun he stole off of Wade and throw the empty clip at goon #1 and the unloaded gun at goon #2, effectively incapacitating both of them with his super strength and dead set accuracy.
Peter found himself surrounded by HYDRA guards groaning in pain from the bullet holes in their thighs and hands, or from the bad concussion that the gun parts gave them. Weirdly enough, he was the only one shooting; he hadn’t heard Wade’s shooting over his own, so he turned around looking for his partner, worried he had gone under.
“Baby boy, what the fuck,” Wade said shoulders slouched, the mask’s white eyes wide and unmoving. Was he mad at Peter for throwing his gun? Wade was oddly attached to his weapons, so he wouldn’t be surprised.
“Sorry, I ran out of bullets and didn’t want to bother you.”
“You just used a gun,” was all Wade responded with, completely ignoring Peter’s apology.
“Uh huh,” Peter responded, confused as to why Wade was stating the facts. He walked over to the goon #2 to pick up Wade’s gun which had a Hello Kitty sticker on it.
“You know how to use a gun,” Wade said, still unmoving, guns in both hands and mask expressionless.
“...yeah,” Peter really had no idea where this was going.
“And you’re damn good at it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that exactly. My uncle was a cop after all and Noir—” Peter was cut off by a hug.
“I have never been prouder,” Wade said, squeezing Peter before pulling away and mock wiping a tear from his eye. “My boy is all grown up, shooting Nazi’s with real guns.”
That earned a snort from Peter—who knew this was what he was going to be doing with his life at the age of 16.
“Do you want it back?” Peter asks, handing Wade the Hello Kitty gun.
“No, keep it, Petey-pie. You’re gonna need it to beat my ass at the shooting range.” Wade said, pushing the gun back into Peter’s chest, “and also to steal Red’s money. This is amazing betting material, but Red won’t fucking believe me if I told him. I don’t even believe me.”
As they headed over to the research wing of the base, Peter was sure he heard Wade mutter something along the lines of “badass mother fucker in every universe.”