A Second Chance

by luceaso

Summary:

Peter Parker finds his whole life flipped in a matter of seconds. He must learn to lean on those around him for support - opening up to others like him.

OR

Deadpool becomes responsible for a child.. yikes..

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

Summary:

Peter Parker attempting to get through life on his own.

Disclaimer — this Peter Parker is based on MCU and Ultimate spider-man; so this work is in NO way a ship - any future spideypool works I may post will be based on a DIFFERENT universe spider-man

A young boy groaned, turning over reluctantly; feeling the gravel beneath his hips crunch and dig in painfully. Before he had allowed himself to fall back to sleep, his phone repeated it’s aggravating sound and finally was successful at disturbing him. With a strenuous sigh, Peter pulled himself into a sitting position and finally gave the phone his full attention.

At the top of the brick’s busted screen stood out one notification (the only notification he had received in months). It was an email from someone he didn't recognise. Assuming it to be spam, Peter’s finger hovered over the delete button until his eyes wandered towards its content.

 

Mr P. Parker,

We are pleased to offer you a paid position as a Level One Computer Scientist intern here at Stark Industries. Following your astounding results for the placement test, we here at SI believe you have great potential and educational progress in our labs.

This is a paid position; discussion of payment will be disclosed if you are to accept your place here. More details will be shared to you in person where you will speak with our department’s Deputy Scientist: Dr J. Tane.

We look forward to working with you.

Sincerely,

Dr Alice R. West

Head of Computer Science at SI

 

Peter’s shocked expression never once left his face as he reread the email hundreds of times; convinced it was a prank. He’d taken the test months ago jokingly and the prolonged response led Peter to believe his results weren’t good enough. Despite his excitement, Peter winced at the fact he’d lied on the document. An almost too easy hack led the recruiters at SI believing Peter Parker was an eighteen year old graduate. His reality couldn’t have been more contrasting.

You see, Peter hadn’t planned to be homeless at fifteen. However, Parker luck™ worked in a miraculous way — striking a random patrol only months after the destructive events surrounding the civil war. 

When a sudden succession of shouts had come from an uncomfortably close to home street one night, Peter could never have fully grasped what he was descending towards..

..Swinging quickly down, Spider-Man was met with a gut churning sight. A lazily placed junction had resulted in two cars colliding in a T-bone with force. One being an SUV, the large car coming out of the wreck with barely a dent. The other being a green Mini Cooper, wrapped around the SUV’s bonnet.

Recognition flitted across Spider-Man’s mask as he dashed on scene. Quickly, he began to address the situation, carefully approaching the Mini’s occupants first; knowing deep in his gut they’d be incredibly lucky to walk out of this crash.

As he tried to look through the cracked windows, Spider-Man realised the collision hit the driver’s side head on. Dread filled his body as he ripped the driver’s car door off its hinges, exposing the car’s interior. Bloody and smashed, glass sticking out everywhere like tiny daggers.

He should’ve recognised it. That obnoxious green he pretended to hate. The one he’d jokingly said was an eyesore. Denial is the only excuse he could’ve given.

Slumped over the wheel, Spider-Man could’ve recognised that silhouette anywhere. Carefully, he lifted the limp head, gulping as his eyes landed on ones he prayed over and over that he wouldn’t see. Forced to stare into them as they looked back blankly, stuck open and unseeing. 

“May-”

Peter gasped. Trying to shake the memory from his brain, an action that only proved to be futile as it continued to haunt him. Following the incident, Peter had immediately ran back to their apartment, stuffing whatever useful things he could find into a tatty bag: clothes; food; money; his suit; and lastly a photo of him, May and Ben.

Peter had spent a couple months in foster care whilst his adoption with his Aunt and Uncle was being finalised. Those months had been a living hell; moments that would forever scar him remained at the back of his mind. So, determined that he couldn’t go through that again, Peter had turned to the streets.

A decision that proved to only do more damage to his already weakened state. That was until Stark Industries obliviously gave him a second chance. A new found determination filled Peter as he mentally (and physically: he stinks) prepared for the meeting in the coming days.

Peter smiled for what felt like the first time in months, relishing in hope; trying to ignore the dread settling into his stomach, not willing to spoil the moment. Holding down the phone’s off button, Peter plummeted once again into darkness. The only source of light came from the cracked window of the dockside warehouse he currently resided in, the nightlife of New York in full swing as Peter laid subdued and exhausted; content to watch time pass as he eventually drifted back to sleep.

Tomorrow he’d probably find a sofa he could crash on, knowing full well he’d need to look his best in order to go under the radar. Plus, he desperately needed to use someone's shower. Peter knew a guy who wouldn’t ask too many questions that he didn’t want to answer.

Their friendship was nice, if a little weird. But, what would you expect from the sort of people Peter surrounded himself with. No one was ever truly normal. The unlikely duo had met just over a year back after the older man had crashed through the roof of a drug ring he was in the middle of busting. His delicate entrance nearly jeopardised months of research and planning. 

Regardless, Peter’s sour first impressions of the man were put on hold as he began using his weapons to assist Spider-Man. Now..Peter wasn’t an idiot, he could recognise that man anywhere and still it shocked him as they were both panting (and covered in too much blood) when the man turned to him with a grin so loopy it shone past his mask and said:

“Names Deadpool,” His hand outstretched towards Spider-Man. “..How ‘bout you? Arachna-Boy?..Web-”

Peter tuned out the rest of the memory, remembering Deadpool went onto list nicknames for ten minutes.Yeesh. No matter, the interaction caused him to gain an ally, someone who he could truly trust. And Peter would’ve been a fool to not lean on Deadpool for support from time to time. Knowing he would do the same for the Merc anytime.

Notes:

Fun Fact: many spiders smell with their legs.

Chapter 2: Suprise Visits

Summary:

Peter Parker Pays Wade Wilson a visit.

The next day Peter found himself scaling a fire escape that surely didn’t pass health and safety regulations. I mean, parts of the railings were missing and he was certain one wrong jump and the whole structure would come off the building.

Finally, he reached the fourth floor. Not too near to the top; not too near to the bottom. “ Like Goldilocks?” He had asked last time. The window, like always, was slightly ajar and so Peter took that as an invitation in.

Stealthily, Peter cracked the window open far enough so that he could slip in unnoticed; immediately crawling upon the ceiling and returning the window to its original position with his foot.

Now that Peter was up high, he wrinkled his nose at the empty take out dishes scattered everywhere amongst random weaponry strewn haphazardly upon most surfaces. The light of a TV bounced off a wall in the next room. Bingo. Peter continued to crawl silently, dodging random knives that were cemented firmly in the ceiling as he approached the man.

He had to stifle a giggle at the sight: Wade was curled up on his sofa (that should’ve been thrown out twenty years ago), seemingly watching some kind of horror film as his eyes were fixated upon the screen; not even noticing the child currently above him. Suddenly, Peter jumped down into the small space between DP and the screen, joining in with the TV, finally recognising it as The Texas chainsaw massacre.

“..Who will survive and what will be left of them?”

“Who will survive and what will be left of them?”

Peter nearly toppled over with laughter as Deadpool suddenly sprung to life, finally noticing the boy.

“Mother fu- .. You know I hate it when you do that!” Wade whined, jumping up and putting Peter into a playful headlock, giving the boy a noogie as he still continued to laugh at him.

“Wade- Wade..” Peter tried between his giggles to no success as Wade proceeded to launch the boy onto the sofa and take the other end.

They both eventually calm down, only a giggle every now and then. Peter knew there would be questions. 

“Want some takeout?”

That, however. Wasn't the question he’d planned for. How could Peter refuse free food? Greedily he stuffed his mouth with noodles, acting like a starved child (he is a starved child).

“So.. is there a special reason for this lovely visit?”

That was more like it; he knew it was coming.

“Uhm, yeah. I was.. uh- wondering if the offer to sleep on your gorgeous couch still stood?” Peter even tried to bash his puppy eyes at Wade, throwing in a compliment that was incredibly untrue. 

Wade’s excited gasp probably lasted thirty seconds (it would have gone on for longer but Peter had smacked him: “Breathe, you idiot” )

“ OMG! We’re roomies!” Wade squealed, shaking Peter’s shoulders to emphasise the point.

“Don’t worry..it’s only temporary until I have a profit from my new job.” Peter’s self deprecation pushing through.

Wade suddenly serioused causing Peter to internally panic. (“Did I say something wrong? Was there sauce and/ or a noodle on my face?”)

“Hey..you know you’re always welcome here?”

Oh no. Wade was almost starting to sound soft towards Peter. That was scarier than anything he’d witnessed the merc do and he’s seen him do a lot . Pete chose to huff out a weak laugh; deciding it wasn’t worth the energy to fight an argument he would never win. Seriously, Wade won every time.

“Yeah- Thank you, Wade.” Peter said sincerely, unable to meet Wade’s eyes; instead confessing to a cushion.

A firm pat to his shoulder was enough to clear the thickening air. All previous conversation forgotten for now as they focused on the present; enjoying each other’s company.

Many people incredulously turned their heads upon finding out about their unlikely friendship. Regardless of what others thought, Peter took comfort in the understanding Wade provided with a vigilante lifestyle. The man quickly became like an older brother he never had; falling into an easy relationship of sibling-like teasing and support. 

In the two or so years of knowing each other, Peter could probably say that he was one if not the only person Wade was his true self around (and vice versa). Ranging from their countless slumber parties to bleeding out in front of each other. Well, it was only concerning when the blood was Peter’s but that didn't stop the boy from fretting that one time Wade was fatally lacerated along his neck (Spider-Man didn't want to find out if beheading Deadpool would make him grow a new head or a new body, no thank you). Things like that bonded people for life; if not with trauma.

“I reckon if I was in a horror film I’d survive.” Peter stated between his mouthful of noodles, coming out more like “..Mf I wah in a hormphilm..”  

Regardless, Wade still understood him, so fluent in Peter speak that he would consider himself bilingual. 

“Oh, yeah? I could probably last longer.” 

Peter whined as Wade teased him, forever falling for his bait.

“That’s not fair..you can’t die!”

Man, Peter was never beating the puppy/child allegations as he pouted at Wade’s laughter. His pout was only able to last so long before he was joining in. Wade had this secret super power of making laughing like this easy. Can someone have the power to make his stomach hurt like this? If anyone did it would be Wade.

Peter excused himself to Wade’s bathroom, purposely using the man to climb over the back of the sofa. Sticking up the finger as Wade shouted to him.

“And maybe take a shower whilst you're at it too,” Wade pretended to pinch his nose “..You smell like a garbage truck’s genetically disturbed offspring.”

Notes:

Fun Fact: Spiders eat more insects than both birds and bats.

Chapter 3: Welcome to SI

Summary:

Peter goes to the inaugural invitation to work at Stark Industries.

Todays the day. Today was the day. Wade had spent the morning fretting over Peter like a worried mother. Even attempting to use his spit to style Peter’s hair more than once. Peter had always hung onto Wade like a child clung to monkey bars; not trying to prove his strength but the fear that he’d let go and plummet to the ground. A childish fear of pain from a drop that didn’t seem scary until you were the one clinging onto the metal pole.

The boy had borrowed one of Wade’s few smart(ish) jackets, becoming almost swallowed in the material many sizes too large. Peter thought he looked ridiculous and had ignored Wade’s ramble on ‘the importance of good first impressions,’ he believed this was a bad impression.

Stark Industries was difficult to miss. The building itself becoming a tourist landmark as it was rumoured the Avengers now resided there. But, also, it stood out proudly against the surrounding buildings; the exterior always unnaturally clean for a building that resided in New York. The city always being in a cloud of thick smog, coating countless buildings (and residents’ lungs) in black ash.

Even the lobby was incredible. Immaculate marble flooring that you could probably eat off of (no, Peter..gross) or even double as mirrors. The ceiling reached so high it could comfortably fit another floor maybe even two. Gold accents glimmered in the white walls as the sun streamed in from the floor to ceiling windows surrounding the doorway. A whole wall that was a single window. Can that still be considered a wall? Surely- right?

Awkwardly, Peter shuffled over to Stark Industries’ reception and suddenly was suffocated with self doubt; feeling as though he didn't belong amongst these expensive walls.

“Can I help you, young man?” A tired voice groaned. 

Peter looked up to see a woman probably in her fifties, her auburn hair tied painfully tight into a bun (almost acting as a face lift), said face carried a stern look of no nonsense.

“Hi, uhm- yes? I’m here for the Stark Internship?”

That raised an eyebrow, giving the boy one more look over. Her piercing stare hovering over his jacket for longer than was comfortable (stupid Wade and his stupid ideas).

“Mm..Name?”

“Peter- uh Parker”

She hummed, obnoxiously clacking the computer’s keys as she scoured the Industry’s database for Peter Parker.

“Right, Mr Parker, Dr Tane’s assistant is on his way now to collect you for your interview.” 

That was all she said, promptly returning her focus to the computer’s screen and acting like Peter wasn’t still shuffling uncomfortably opposite her. It only lasted five minutes as a boy in his early twenties rounded the corner. He had long, dark unruly curls pulled out of his face in a half up/ half down style. A clipboard in hand (Peter knew he must be important if he had a clipboard) and a smart navy suit.

“Peter Parker?” He smiled, now standing before the boy. “Nice to meet you, I’m Kian. Are you ready?”

Peter quickly nodded and practically skidded along the smooth floor to follow the man. Kian held an air of importance as he led Peter towards the lift; a kind of importance that made the boy want to hide himself. Did he really belong here? Stop it, Peter. Ugh, even the voice inside his head was starting to sound like Wade. There was no escaping that man.

As they entered the elevator, Peter immediately noticed the lack of buttons. His eyebrow quirked up at that. Kian must’ve noticed his confusion as he chuckled quietly.

“The tower is run by Tony Stark’s personal AI: FRIDAY. They say it stops people getting into areas they're unauthorised for. You just say your floor and scan your I.D.” 

Peter nodded in awe as an Irish woman’s voice spoke from the ceiling. After that, the elevator ride was quiet, borderline awkward. Peter took note of the floors, cementing to memory the computer science department was on level nine. 

‘ Over halfway to the top ’ Peter thought.

You see..as much as Peter liked and understood computer science, it wasn't his passion. He’d only tried the test as it was the only vacant position currently at SI. His brain was more zoned into biological science and chemistry. God, that boy loved chemistry; he can and will talk your ear off about the laws and underlying working in chemistry.

As the elevator door opened, it revealed a sterile, white corridor; the walls lined with glass and revealed the multitude of workshop and lab interiors.

“This-” Kian began, ghosting his hand on Peter’s back to urge him forwards “-is the Computer Science floor. Your interview will be taking place in room 118.”

“The letter said that I was already offered a position?”

Kian hummed.

“You are. This is just a discussion. Getting to know you, yeah?”

Peter nodded, following the older boy to a room with no windows on the exterior wall. A single heavy metal door with a plaque reading: ‘Room 118 - Dr J. Tane’. The boy knocked twice, receiving a muffled response of ‘Come in’ . Kian waved Peter off, wishing him well.

Peter pushed open the door to reveal a neat office. Its desk is covered in trinkets and plants facing the door, behind it was a floor to ceiling window showing New York’s skyline. A couple framed certificates lined the walls between photos of a family. The man in the photograph sat opposite Peter. 

“Ah, Mr Parker, welcome.” Dr Tane clapped his hands, standing up to shake Peter’s hands and gesturing to the empty seat.

“Just Peter is okay, Sir.” He smiled, taking the seat.

“So, Peter, unfortunately the pay is minimal due to this being an entry level internship; pay being reserved for any involvement in dangerous experiments as compensation.. Is that okay for you?-” Peter nodded hesitantly and Dr Tane continued. “-Work hours are Monday to Friday, 9-5 PM; possibilities for overtime and added experience points.”

“Yes, Sir. That all sounds good, thank you.” Peter smiled tightly, feeling slightly deflated but still buzzing with anticipation.

“Right, we just have a few more documents to sign and then I can give you a quick tour of our floor.”

Peter sat back slightly as new faces joined the mix. Men in perfectly fitted suits filtered in, briefcases in hand and not a single hair out of place. If you had told Peter they were planning to murder him, he’d believe you without a shadow of a doubt.

The next hour or so was filled with corporate NDA’s, explaining their HR, company policies and all that other jazz that came with a big time corporation. Honestly, Peter zoned out and went on autopilot after probably the tenth document sprung towards.

As the final paper slid towards him, the pen in Peter's hand faltered.

 

Name    —          _____________

DOB      —          _____________

Address —          _____________

Phone    —          _____________

 

Subtly, Peter bit his knuckle in fearful contemplation. It shocked him more the fact such a highly secured company was only just asking such personal questions now. 

He couldn’t tell the truth, that would risk exposing his life to a powerful multimillion dollar company and who knows where he’d be taken if the cops got involved. However, he couldn’t exactly lie either as any simple background check would cal him out. Peter would have to be smart.

 

Name    —           Peter B. Parker_

DOB      —           08/09/1999___

Address —          Manhattan, NYC

Phone    —          289-069-420 __

 

The business man eyed the details once it was finally returned. Thank the lord for Wade Wilson (do NOT tell him that, his ego would become so large you’d have to wheel him about using his head). Peter filled each box using a mixture of his and the aforementioned man’s information — they had decidedly came up with the cover of him being an ‘uncle’ through a broken off marriage to explain their estranged and genetically indirect relationship. 

Back at Wade’s, they had planned meticulously and anticipated this occurrence. Wade, having spent countless hours hunched over his desk, procuring a replicant ID using his ridiculously impressive skills in forgery for good. Good?..Peter thought so at least. Is this how every thug felt about their actio-

“-So, you’re..hmm- eighteen, right?” The corporate representative paused to look up at Peter through his glasses — glasses that Peter watched slip progressively further down his obtrusive nose as time passed.

Peter quickly nodded before remembering himself, finally snapping back into the conversation.

“Yes, Sir..” His unnaturally straightened posture raised a few brows.

“Well- we’d like to see some ID. Just company policy, you understand?” 

The multiple side eyes the suited men gave each other told Peter this wasn’t just company policy.

“Of course..” Peter managed to mumble.

Shakily, Peter reached into his wallet and pulled out the square of plastic. Everyone’s eyes burned holes into the salient object. Pete gave the forged information one last discreet glimpse before handing it over. Wishing, praying, that the countless evenings spent memorising the false information had paid off.

A pause, then another painstakingly drawn out second. Peter watching as the man’s eyes dragged across the text impossibly slow.

“Mm.. everything seems correct, Mr Parker. We look forward to you joining us this Monday.”

With that, Peter’s hand was suddenly filled with others as they shook it on their departure, leaving behind a solitary Dr Tane as he took his seat once more. Final pleasantries were passed between the two of them before Peter was standing once more. As Peter pulled open the office door, he was met with Kian leaning against the opposing wall; waiting for him.

The soft click brought Kian’s attention away from his phone and towards Peter’s sudden presence.

“So.. how’d it go?” Kian was smiling as if he already knew his answer.

“Yeah- great! They said I’m starting next week so that’s good.”

Kian nodded along as he led both himself and Peter towards the main lobby. Peter’s grin remained so sharp it could cut diamonds. The poor boy was going to have terrible cheek pain later. 

One swift, slightly less awkward, elevator ride later and the two of them were back at SI’s entrance. Peter stopped in his tracks as he felt a hand upon his shoulder, following the arm with his eyes to Kian.

“Just- well done, Peter. That can’t have been easy..”

Peter faltered in confusion. Why was Kian praising him for such a simple thing?

“Oh- uh.. thank you!” Peter smiled.

The growing sound of crashing and yelling pulled the two of them from their conversation. Feeling a lack of the usual dim hum from his ever present spidey-sense, Peter wasn’t too worried.

God, he should’ve paid more attention to his senses. An armful of  6’something-freakishly-tall grown man barreled into him from one of the fancy sofas. Immediately being put into a headlock, Peter groaned and ignored the concerned look Kian shot him.

“Kian, this is Wade — my..uncle.”

Wade straightened them both to a stand, his arm remaining draped over Peter’s shoulder in a protective manner. Groaning to himself as Peter felt Wade's hand ruffling his hair, really trying to drive the overprotective uncle act home. Peter shrugged off the suit jacket and chucked it at Wade’s head — decidedly ignoring the man’s overdramatic splutters. Suddenly remembering his presence, Peter turned back to Kian, his mouth slightly agape.

“Thank you, Kian, for your help. I’ll see you around, right?”

All Kian could manage was a slow nod, concern filling him as he watched the man build like a tank, and covered in what appeared to be scars, interact so casually with the unnaturally scrawny boy — especially considering he appeared to be his guardian of sorts. He eventually waved the two of them off, trying to ignore the nagging feeling of concern and decided it wasn’t his place to intervene.

Notes:

Fun Fact: Bagheera kiplingi is a completely vegetarian Jumping Spider, feeding off of leaf tips and nectar.

Chapter 4: Taking the spider out

Summary:

Peter and Wade go for a celebratory meal.

As they finally exited the building, they began to descend the exterior stairs. And, upon reaching the street level, Peter jumped up immediately to harshly smack the underside of Wade’s head — ignoring the man’s over dramatic and completely unnecessary cry of pain. The two of them began walking in step, Peter slowly becoming aware of the unnatural lack of bustle for a NYC street. To be fair, it was around noon on a weekday; the majority of the city's population was probably at school or work.

“God, you’re such an idiot! You were supposed to wait outside.” Peter scolded the man beside him — arms folded like a disappointed Mom.

“Yeah, but that was bo-oring — I wanted to come see how you did.” Wade began, already looking as if he was upto something.

“Mmm..right..”

Peter squinted at Wade’s disturbing attempt of an innocent smile. However, ultimately deciding to not argue against him — not having the energy to battle with Wade’s idiocracy. Was it ever really arguing between them? More like childish squabbling.

“..Mm!” Wade continued, bringing the two of them to a stop at the side of the pavement “..On my treacherous journey exploring the area, I discovered a mean looking Mexican restaurant..”

Wade was literally bashing his eyelids at him right now. The grown man ever as subtle as a hard punch to the groin. 

Peter rolled his eyes, using his palm to push Wade’s uncomfortably close face away from him. Rookie mistake. As soon as the two connected, Peter felt something cold against his hand — a shiver of disgust shot through his entire being.  

Peter released a definitely manly shriek, his undignified outcry catching the attention of countless passers by. Simultaneously, he drew his arm back like it had touched an open flame — turning his hand over to reveal the thin sheen of saliva.

“Argh?! You did not just lick me!” 

Peter's mouth was dragged firmly downwards, contorted in utter disgust as his eyes flickered desperately between his open palm and Wade’s figure doubled over in laughter. Using his distracted state to his advantage, Peter wiped the saliva upon the man’s back; returning the disgusting thing to his assailant. Wade, not even reacting as all he could manage was another string of unintelligible nonsense and uproars of laughter each time he looked towards Peter’s horrified face.

“Oh! You’re so on!” Peter smirked, lowering himself dangerously. 

Before Wade had a chance to react, the boy launched himself and he had a backful of Peter — the boy using his koala-like grip to firmly attach himself. Peter’s arms wrapped around Wade's neck, applying controlled pressure and trapping; not suffocating. The uproar gained some unwanted attention from passers by. Wade’s first attempt to drag Peter off with the boy's vice-like grip only resulted in them both stumbling slightly. With one final tug, and using a disproportionate amount of strength, Peter was flipped over Wade’s shoulder in one final swing and sent tumbling towards the pavement.

However, before Peter could even try and firmly plant both his feet, Wade proceeded to sling him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes — decidedly ignoring Peter’s disoriented flailing and haphazard punches to his back. It honestly looked like a kidnapping as the man attempted to continue walking with the kicking and screaming boy. 

“Let me go, you oversized neanderthal!” Peter squealed, folding his arms and relented as he jokingly pouted at the upside down view of Wade’s back.

Wade’s sudden explosion of chuckles caused both his shoulders to rattle harshly — shaking Peter in the process; resulting in another, much harder, whack on Wade’s back. Futilely attempting to stop the man from causing any further brain damage.

The surrounding people one by one stopped their everyday lives to watch the scene unfold before them. Some with recognisable looks of anticipation in their eyes — looking prepared to step in but hesitant whether they should. Wade either didn’t see them or he didn’t care. Most likely the latter.

“Wade! Put me down- people are staring!” Peter managed to choke out between his giggles and over dramatic flails.

Wade groaned, biting back his shit-eating-grin, but complied nonetheless and proceeded to swiftly drop Peter. Thankfully, Peter’s spidey-sense saved him from any further public humiliation as he semi-gracefully managed to land firm enough on his feet like some kind of feline. In a mature response, Peter decided to blow a raspberry in Wade’s direction. Ever the drama queen, Wade’s mouth shot wide open — slapping both his palms to either side of his face. Peter thought he looked akin to the kid out of home alone, 

‘More like Kevin on steroids..’ He mused to himself, biting his lip to stop himself laughing in Wade’s face — failing spectacularly as chokes of it came out like coughs.

Peter sent the man a soft punch to his arm in an attempt to snap him out of the self-induced hysteria.

“Come on..! I’m literally starving- but, not Mexican! We had that like- two days ago.. ” Peter petulantly whined — prodding Wade like a toddler with each syllable.

Wade slapped the boy's hand away, a desperate bid to stop his persistence, and rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“Fine. What do you want then, almighty one.” Topping it all off, Wade proceeded to curtsy.

“Mm.. pizza?” Peter questioned, his head tilting like a pup.

He didn’t have to tell Wade twice as the man eagerly nodded at the proposition of the fine Italian cuisine. So, as a joint decision was finally made quickly between them for once, they proceeded to continue their trek for the great pizza — food of the Gods if you asked Wade.

The boy had to hold himself back from skipping down the street. He knows Wade wouldn’t judge him if he did — most likely would join him. But, still, there were many people around them and Peter didn’t want to play into the weirdo New Yorker stereotype more than he already had.

Regardless of his attempts to contain his excitement, Peter was practically buzzing as Wade held the pizzaria’s door open for him.

“D’you reckon they know the Papa John..?” Wade questioned absentmindedly, his eyes scanning the establishment for any workers.

Peter paused at the front desk and turned to give Wade an incredulous look.

“Wade- this is Pizza Hut..”

The man just shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“Psh-.. just would’ve been cool.” He mumbled, huffing and crossing his arms like a petulant toddler.

Peter rolled his eyes but swiftly smiled as he noticed a worker approaching and discreetly slapped Wade’s arm, with an unnecessary amount of force, to snap him out of his brooding. They watched patiently ( Peter watched patiently) as the young man frantically set up the front desk to serve them.

“Hiya- can I get your orders?” The man asked, slightly out of breath but threw a quick smile for good customer service.

Peter was about to answer but Wade got to it before him, going as far as to nudge the boy behind him.

“Yes- hmm.. let’s see-” Wade paused, hand on his chin as though in a deep philosophical debate, squinting up at the advertisement displays.

Peter groaned as he realised Wade was unnecessarily drawing out the process for his own enjoyment.

“God- so much to choose from..” Wade continued, making hmm ’s and ah ’s and different prospective toppings.

As much as Peter would normally love tormenting some poor underpaid worker, right now he was starving and moments away from practically eating the four walls. In swift procession, Peter dragged Wade back by the scruff of his shirt knowing they never order anything outside of their usual.

“One meat feast and a margarita, please.” Peter sighed, head in his hands like a disappointment mother — Wade pouting behind him like a scolded child as Peter desperately shushed him for extra measure.

“Right..” The worker awakwardly eyed between the dynamic shift of adult and child “..that’ll be- $15.39. Cash or card?”

Peter resched his hands into his pockets despite knowing the best he could produce was a couple of buttons, some lint and maybe a moth; you could say he wasn’t exactly liquid at the moment. A beep brought him out of his rummaging and he up to see Wade paid for both himself and Peter.

“Oh..uh- thank you.” Peter stumbled out, brought out of his trance as Wade ruffled his hair, scrunching his nose in faux annoyance.

“Don’t mention it, kid.” Wade smiled oddly soft for a man persistently trying to be a menace to society.

“-Your food will be ready in about ten minutes.” The worker cut in, gulping slightly as both customers snapped their heads towards him in unison — only releasing a shaky exhale once the duo took a seat off to the side.

They chose to wait in the secluded booth, Peter clambering gracefully (not) into the confined seat against the wall whilst Wade ultimately decided to not even attempt it should he get stuck — now that would be embarrassing.

Once Peter stopped doing his unnatural (and quite frankly unnecessary) body contortions, he relaxed; slumped dramatically and dangerously close to slipping down to the floor.

“Are we-..y’know..” Wade made a vague gesture reminiscent to Peter’s web shooters “..tonight?”

The boy nodded eagerly, dragging himself up slightly.

“Oh- yeah! Hey- don’t you have that mission-thingy coming up soon?”  

Wade thought for a bit before his eyes widened comically, producing a sound identical to a monkey's screech.

“Agh- I totally forgot about that.. you wouldn’t wanna join me tonight, would’yah?” He gives Peter his beet puppy eyes, even going as far as to wiggle his eyebrows and clasp his hands together in pleading.

Peter rolled his eyes but agreed with very little persuasion. Their conversation got cut short as two steaming plates of pizza were brought their way; both boys’ stomachs rumbling in response. After a swift assignment of pizza, the two of them stared down eagerly at their promised meal — mouths practically dripping in anticipation.

Peter bit ferociously into a slice like a starved child; a string of cheese following him. Managing to eat each slice in two bites. Wade himself was hard at work chowing down on his own pizza — a rare silence that only came when he was preoccupied. 

The silence only lasted so long as two enhanced individuals couldnt be incapacitated by food for any length of time — a possibility of becoming magicians with how quickly the food disappeared. Wade leaned back in his chair, letting out a content hum.

“So..” Wade began, wiggling his eyebrows “..You’re a scientist now, eh?” 

“Shut up!” Peter giggled “It’s just an internship”

“Mm! You better not turn evil and start experimenting on kittens or something, blegh..”

“Kittens?” Peter scrunched his face up as he tried to bite back his laugh.

“They’re the staple of society, Peter, very important.” Wade feigned seriousness, nodding along like a business deal.

“Okay, sure..” 

Wade gasped, almost hacking up a lung as he managed to inhale some cheese.

“Peter Benjamin Parker-” Wade started

“..How the hell do you know-..” Peter interjected, mumbling half to himself and half accusingly towards Wade.

“-Doesn’t matter!” Wade cut him off, wafting his hand dismissively “I can’t believe you hate cats — maybe you already are a villain?!”

Peter facepalmed, shaking his head as he left it in his hand.

“Y’know what- fine! Yeah, I hate them,” Peter lied, grinning as he watched Wade’s face drop in horror.

“ WH- ” Wade’s exclamation got cut off as Peter preemptively leant across and covered his mouth.

Peter’s stance could only last so long as his giggles lead to his arms going weak and flaccid and Wade easily managed to manoeuvre them away. Eventually they both fell into a fot of giggles; unable to meet the other’s eye-line without another burst of laughter.

Only when the worker came over to clear up their plates did Peter manage to calm down — the same unable to be said for Wade as he left his hand firmly over his mouth and tried to cover up his snickers with coughs. Peter cleared his throat once the worker left them.

“Right, then — should we head off?” Peter asked, already going to stand before Wade nodded.

Wade agreed and stood with him before heading for the exit 

“After you, M’lady,” Wade said as he tipped an imaginary hat and held the door before Peter proceeded to shove his hand in the man’s dipped face.

 

Notes:

Fun Fact: a spider’s blood is blue.

A/N: This was probably my fave chapter to write.

Chapter 5: Time to play hero

Summary:

Just a casual and normal patrol.

Night time slowly crept across the city’s skyline, encapsulating its buildings in a mirage of fire and ash as everything was descended further into darkness. The last inkling of sun found itself streaming through the minuscule rip of an ancient blind, the destination of an eight thousand mile journey from the sun’s core managing to perfectly attack Peter Parker’s retinas as he laid back slumped upon Wade’s musty sofa.

“Ughh..” Peter groaned, leaning his head back as he dug both palms into his face “..Wade! I thought you’d fixed your damn blinds?! And, hurry up!”

Peter’s exasperation was followed by silence despite the fact he had been sprawled neck to toe in his spider suit, the mask discarded on the sofa’s arm. Groaning to himself, Peter managed to drag his exhausted body up — trying to rub the crick in his neck out from the uncomfortable angle he laid at.

“Wade, come on! Seriously..” Peter mumbled, dragging himself through the apartment. 

He quickly sent a web to his discarded mask and snatched it back before disappearing out of the living area and into the apartment’s cramped corridor.

“Wade?” Peter called out as he reached Wade’s room and gently pushed the door open.

The boy could’ve cursed that man out like a sailor if he were present. Upon Wade’s bed laid a note addressed to Peter himself: Soz baby boy, urgint urgent mission came up and had to skedaddle! will be back tomoz tho. -DP XOXO

Wade had promised Peter that tonight they could patrol together, and yet, Peter was left alone after Wade flaked on him in favour of completing a hit operation. Stupid merc. Peter crumpled the note and left it in its place as he finally pulled his mask over his face. Patrolling doesn't stop with or without Deadpool. Still, it would’ve been nice.. oh, who was Peter kidding — it would’ve been a night full of babysitting a grown adult.

Without hesitation, Peter leapt from Wade’s bedroom window; allowing himself to momentarily freefall the four floors. He let the adrenaline rush get the better of him and only relented in saving himself moments before becoming like a squashed bug on a windscreen. Arachnid, not a bug . Peter could’ve pinched his nose if it weren’t for the fact his hands were occupied with webslinging — Wade’s influence was really getting to him.

It didn’t take long before he heard the notifying screams of someone in need just a few blocks away. Peter allowed his senses to fade away as he honed in on what sounded like a young voice, giving his full attention as he made his swift approach.

As Spider-man closed in, he was able to swiftly assess the stakes. It appeared to be a simple mugging gone wrong, three assailants surrounding a small figure in a blocked off alleyway (when are they not , come on get original). Leaping downward, Spider-man just caught the glint of metal from the moonlight in one of the attackers hands. Right, three (possibly) all armed men, young civilian, no exit. 

Peter landed on the broadest assailant and wrapped his legs around his neck, using the moment of his landing to swing himself around to the man’s front — successfully catching him by surprise as the man landed hard with his back onto the ground.

“Hey, fellas! Didn’t think book club was until next week?”

Using their shock to his advantage, Peter simultaneously jumped up and kicked the next guy in the back whilst shooting a web to the forehead of the last guy. In quick succession, he both yanked and knocked the other two against each other and to the ground as the first guy finally found his feet. Quickly, Spider-man sent a couple webs to the two — now knocked out — men, cementing them to where they fell.

“Not had enough yet? Fine,” 

Peter shrugged before easily dodging the man’s sloppy punch. Not an inch of training in that man’s form. He raised his own fists in mock sparring and bounced from each foot before dropping down in a crouch; extending his leg and spinning to make harsh contact to the man’s shins. Yet again the man stumbled backwards, this time managing to land upon the two already restrained men.

“Strike!” Spider-man cheered as he webbed up the last man to the others, webbing all their mouths to prevent any possible gobbing off. How criminals retained their confidence when obviously restrained and caught always perplexed him.

The sound of concealed, hyperventilating breaths brought Peter’s attention back to the other presence in the alley. It suddenly dawned on him that none of the men had any form of weapon despite him being certain in his assessment. He snapped his head to the young figure behind him. A boy — maybe eleven, he was never good with ages — stood shakily but proud with a knife extended towards Spider-man. The boy’s arms shook as he held it with both hands. 

Peter squinted in the dark noticed the faint shadow of a bruise across the boy's face, the dark splotches also painted on across his limbs. Immediately, Peter dropped to a cautious crouch, extending his arms out in a placating manner.

“Hey, hey, it’s oka-” Peter began carefully.

“Shut- shut up! Just, shut up!” The boy shouted, his fear painfully evident to Peter.

All Peter could do was nod as the boy slowly closed the gap between them. Peter’s eyes flickered between the boy’s uneasy face and the imposing weapon.

“Kid, listen to me, please,” Peter began softly, keeping himself low “You don’t have to do this. Whatever they’ve told you isn’t true, there’s more to life than crime. Please, just lower the knife and we can talk, yeah?” 

“No- no, I must.. they said-.. it’s in- inisha—” The boy stammered.

“Initiation?” Spider-man supplied warily. 

The boy’s nod only confirmed his concern. Whatever gang that held this boy had him out doing their dirty work. Diminishing murder to a simple initiation the boy must complete.

“You have a choice here, kid. What have they told you — that they’re the only ones who will protect you?” Another nod “That’s what people like me are here for. In all seriousness, their ‘protection’ will have you end up alone in a cell before you’re even in highschool. Is that the family and protection you want or were promised?”

Something must’ve clicked in the boy’s mind as the blade suddenly tumbled to the ground. The sound of the metal hitting the concrete finally allowed Peter to relax his tensed muscles as he leant on his fist in the couch. 

In a blink, the boy launched towards Peter and wrapped his arms around his neck, hiding his strained face behind Spider-man’s head. Peter’s heart broke as he felt the boy’s shoulders shake and the unmistakable sound of teary sniffles echoed in the constricted alleyway. Spider-man settled a firm hold back as he grounded the boy.

Carefully, Spider-man stood as the boy’s grip remained unrelenting; feeling as he hid himself in Peter’s side. Peter stroked back a stray brunette hair from covering the boy’s eye, taking note of the crusted blood at his hairline.

“What’s your name, kid?” Spider-man asked gently.

“Uh, B— Ben..” The boy, Ben, whispered. 

Peter briefly felt as though any air left in his lungs were knocked out.

“Ben.. let’s get you some place safe.” Spider-man said soothingly, extending his hand out to the boy.

Like a leech, he immediately clung to Peter’s extended arm and — with experienced precision — Peter led the boy out of the alleyway without letting him see the webbed up thugs any longer than he should’ve. 

It was only a couple blocks away from the nearest precinct. In that time, Peter was able to learn more about Ben in drabs. The boy’s youthful exuberance caused him to blabber more personal information than strictly safe. Spider-man could only internally grimace at the irrevocable damage gang culture would’ve inflicted onto the boy’s remaining innocence.

It didn’t take long before Peter was steering Ben through the precincts lobby, keeping a firm grip upon the boy’s shoulder. Grounding him; reminding him he was there. It must’ve been the bright red and blue spandex, but — as soon as they entered — a cop was already beginning to approach them. The man appeared fairly young, but still wisened by his years on the force with cracks and bags upon his face that told a lifetime of stories.

“Hey, Officer!” Spider-man waved, ensuring that the policeman was definitely coming towards them.

“Hm, Spider-man?” The policeman looked down, making eye contact with the timid boy “..ah, come with me.”

The man gestured towards a corridor and Spider-man nudged the boy to follow onwards. Peter just managed to catch the man’s name badge before his back was upon him again, Mahoney . It sounded oddly familiar and yet he was certain he’d never met the man before. Still, Peter internally shrugged, New York was a big place but somehow never big enough.

Officer Mahoney led the two of them to an interview room. Spider-man faltered at the doorway and nudged Ben to take a seat in order to have a hushed word with Mahoney.

“He appears to have a laceration upon his head, possibly more concealed. I suspect a concussion might be probable with the bruising upon his face; just the bruising elsewhere is cause for concern. He has a slight limp and favours his left side, so an x-ray might be needed,” Spider-man spoke in a hushed tone to Mahoney who just nodded along carefully.

Peter watched from the doorway as Mahoney situated himself opposite to Ben, already starting file work that was now covering most of the table. Feeling the vigilante’s strong stare, Ben looked up and realised Spider-man wasn’t coming in. 

“You’re not..staying?” Ben pouted.

Peter sighed internally to stay strong and not relent.

“No. I’m sorry, Ben. You’ll be safe here, I promise, you’re not alone. Tell them the truth and they will help you, okay?” 

Peter waited until he got a reciprocated nod before departing the building, slamming a side door out into the neighbouring alley. God, he really needed to catch his breath now. He found himself doubled over, clutching onto his knees for any inkling of stability — his racing thoughts and senses assaulting his every being. Shit, shit, shit  —

The sound of concrete crumbling snapped Peter from his trance. He looked down and noticed a concave of concrete surrounding his unknowingly extended fist, the cracks spreading out like webs upon the precinct wall. Drawing back his fist like it was burnt, Peter turned away shamefully, not wanting to address the damage he just inflicted.

“Hey, Spider-man!” A voice called out, the sound bouncing and disorienting Peter.

It didn’t take long for his senses to subside and Peter’s head snapped up to a figure crouched on a fire escape a couple floors up. Peter tilted his head inquisitively, squinting and waiting for them to come out of the shadows and cleared his throat.

“Uhm— yes?” Peter stood up straighter.

With that, the brooding figure stepped out and the streetlights illuminated them. Standing there, in all his imposing glory, was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. His suit was a deep and crimson red — like a warning sign to any who crossed his path. Upon making eye contact, Peter noticed the piercing empty glare from the man’s mask, the eyes vacant of any possible emotion — the only tell-tale sign being the shit eating smirk across the sliver of skin visible around his chin. What was he doing in Manhattan?

Embarrassingly, Peter realised he must’ve questioned that aloud as, next thing he knew, the Devil was speaking to him again — either that or Daredevil had some unknown telepathic ability, scary.

“ You’re in Hell’s Kitchen, Spider-man.” Daredevil smirked

That shut Peter up as he stood up straighter — he really needed to keep track of where he swung. If Deadpool were here he’d probably say something stupid like ‘Peeing myself out of excitement!’ . Realisation suddenly dawned on Peter that he was casually conversing with Daredevil. Act casual, Pete, act— 

Okay, so maybe trying to casually lean against the building with his hand on his hip wasn’t his best or most casual idea. He only realised this once he attempted to lean and was only met with empty space, free falling for milliseconds before he stumbled to a firm footing again. 

When he looked up again, he realised Daredevil had left. That god awful display probably scaring him off. Peter groaned at his stupidity and turned around to leave the alley and Hell’s kitchen for good out of pure embarrassment. That was, until his exit was blocked by the Devil himself. 

“Hey—” Peter began, surprised.

“—You free for some patrol?” Daredevil inquired, folding his arms firmly.

Notes:

What do you get when you cross a spider and corn on the cob?

Cobwebs.

THE AO3 CURSE IS SNAPPING AT MY FEET