Chapter Text
He’s in Peter’s apartment, mid-way through his afternoon snack when he finally realises. Wade’s shovelling the ever escaping curls of onion into his mouth as quickly as they fall from the hot dog bun, and it’s funny, he thinks as he slurps up the last straggler, because maybe if he’d never offered Peter a ‘dog that one time, maybe they’d have never really talked, and maybe they’d never have started to date. And he remembers the look Peter gave him back then, the way he somehow made the eyes on his costume all squinty and suspicious and stupidly adorable, and how it’s not much longer before he sees those gorgeous eyes for real and laughs because somehow they manage do the exact same thing.
He can’t really explain it, but the way Pete looks at him sometimes… Wade pauses. Considers. Not looks. Looked. He must’ve been given a raw bit of meat or something, because it tastes real awful all of a sudden, and he can hardly swallow. The thing is, Peter barely even looks at him at all nowadays, he’s so damn busy with his stupid ‘new-and-improved-Spidey – tougher on stains but gentler on civilians’ sciencey stuff, but Wade persevered (everyone says how trying he is! Cue studio audience laughter) and managed to steal a kiss that morning, and suddenly it’s like a ton of bricks have fallen on his chest because the look Peter gave him then…
Was not Peter.
The food drops from his hands and Wade barely makes it to the bathroom before the contents of his stomach escape violently, and he finds he can’t breathe. His throat has swollen shut and his ears are pounding and he’s choking because he can’t breathe because that was not Peter Parker.
Wade gasps like a freshly landed fish. His body is rebelling, more so than usual. Every single cell has turned on him, crackling and bursting with endless energy that insists on consuming him. His eyes squeeze shut and he just knows that any moment he’s going to hear a little ‘pop’ and he’ll be found on the bathroom floor in a million fragments.
Its like Typhoid Mary again, only a hundred times worse and an infinity scarier, and just as Wade’s reflexes kick in and he finally takes a deep, shuddering breath, the front door slams and he appears.
‘Good evening Wilson, I see you’ve already forgotten our little talk about hyg-‘
Wade is feebly attempting to get back to his feet when Peter’s face appears around the bathroom door, and their gazes lock. Wade can’t tear his eyes away. Can’t understand just what he’s looking at exactly, because every precious thread of logic and sense he still has tells him this is the man he’s finally realised he’s utterly, ridiculously, dangerously in love with. Only not.
‘Where is he?’
He’s pretty certain he could hurl again if he had anything left in his belly.
‘Oh’, says not!Peter, breaking the silence. Eyebrows slowly drawn down, he doesn’t even bother to conceal the initial distaste from his features. ‘I see your tiny yet astonishingly observant little mind has finally made the connection. I’m somewhat impressed.’ His smile is a shark. ‘You may console yourself with the knowledge that for one shining moment, you were smarter than all of the Avengers put together. Excluding myself, of course’ Tooth after tooth, perfectly white. Serene.
Peter…
Not Peter.
‘Who the hell are you?’ Wade stumbles backwards, nearly falling into the bowl. ‘What…What have you done…’ The air is fizzing with static. Someone upstairs has screwed with the gravity because he keeps thinking he’s going to either float away or fall to the floor and never get up.
Otto takes two short steps into the tiny room and Wade can feel warm breath in his cheek as the other man whispers into his ear with the voice of a dead man. ‘Why, I’m Peter Parker, of course, young fellow. I’m Spider-Man, and you’d be better off remembering that, Deadpool, because nothing – I assure you – nothing will ever convince the world otherwise.’
Wade is frozen to the spot.
Otto sighs, and for a moment something approaching regret crosses his features. He pats Wade’s shoulder.
I’m afraid the former occupant of this body, however, is quite dead, admittedly thanks to my genius. A mind-body transfer, with added memories of the former host – if we must reduce it to the simplest possible explanation.’ He frowns. ‘I’m… sorry for your loss. However-‘
‘Well gee whiz Mister Exposition Trope Super-Villain ,’ Wade drawls as cold metal presses into Otto’s chin whilst fingers dig gouges into the hand on his shoulder. The gun remains steady in the mercenary’s grasp. Wade’s smile is ripped into scarred flesh. ‘See, when you put it like that then…’
‘No!’ Otto shrieks.
‘No!’ Peter yells.
‘Yes!’ Wade snarls. ‘Wait, what?’
Click.
-and pt 1