Disconnection

Spiderman stood at the edge of the building and looked down, surveying the footpath below for any pedestrians.

 As eager as he was to get this over with, he didn’t want to traumatise anyone by forcing them to witness his death. As he waited for the path to clear, he looked out at the city he loved.

Used to love.

That was before he couldn’t save Gwen of course.

He could barely remember the way he used to be, the way he used to feel back then. Being Spiderman was tough, but he always had this hope that things would be better, this drive to make things better. Back then he fought his dads constantly to go out and patrol as Spiderman, reasoning with Steve and arguing with Tony almost every day. It had settled down when he turned 18, but they still argued occasionally. But after Gwen’s death, he started fighting less and less, rarely bothering to go out on patrol.

It had gotten to the point where he rarely left the tower, as he was technically employed by Stark Laboratories so he felt no need to. He made sure to make up some excuse whenever Steve or Tony asked why he hadn’t gone out, claiming that he had some ‘really super important’ project he was working on in his lab. Tony tried to talk to him about it, but Peter just dismissed the topic offhandedly and distracted him with ideas for a new Ironman suit. While he wouldn’t put it past Tony to look in his lab, he knew that Steve wouldn’t let him, citing how they needed to ‘respect Peter’s boundaries’. Just to be sure, he had installed a locking mechanism on his lab that even Jarvis couldn’t get past.

A normal day for him now consisted on waking up at 11am, going into his lab and playing Mario Cart on his DS until he falls asleep around 4pm, always having a bottle of extra strength sleeping tablets he created for those times he can't get to sleep. He makes sure to wake up and come to the dining room table for dinner at 7pm so his parents and the rest of the avengers don’t get suspicious, but even that has been becoming a challenge. He stopped messaging and calling his friends and eventually they stopped trying.

“It’s better this way” he thought to himself. “This way I can’t hurt anyone else.”

But then one day he realised that he didn’t have to do this anymore. He felt like he was just going through the motions, an endless cycle of nothing. There was only one way to break the cycle, and Peter was determined to do it.

For the first time in years, he felt free.

He planned to do it on a Sunday night. That way there would be less pedestrians walking around, less witnesses.

No one would mourn his death but his parents, but even they would move on eventually, probably adopt a new kid. "One who isn’t such a fuckup" he thought to himself darkly. The rest of the avengers probably just saw him as a nuisance, the burden of the team.

He stood up on the ledge, the footpath below now clear. He looked down feeling a mix of excitement and fear. He had never been afraid of heights, but at the moment he was feeling pretty damn scared. He stood there for a while until he felt the sleeping tablets he took earlier start to take effect, the calming feeling washing over him like a warm blanket.

He took a deep breath, making sure to savour the scent of the city he used to love one last time.

And then he calmly stepped off the building.

The moment he took that step, he felt something grab firmly onto his wrist, sharply pulling him back over the ledge of the building. He winced as he landed on the cold hard roof of the building, his normal clothes tearing, not protecting him like his suit would.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing kid?”

He silently looked up at the dark figure standing above him with his arms crossed. Peter felt too stunned to speak at this moment, so he continued to stare in silence. They stared at each other for a minute, until the man grabbed his arm and pulled him up so the two of them were face to face.

"Seriously kid, what are you thinking? You could have gotten seriously hurt!" Now that they were close, Peter recognised the mask the man was wearing.

"Deadpool? Is that you?" Peter asked, staring at him in disbelief.

 Even he had heard about the infamous mercenary. Despite never meeting him, Peter had been told about him by his parents countless times, his reputation of being a ruthless killing machine emphasised by the footage the avengers had collected of him in action. His fighting style was fast and deadly, leaving no survivors. In the few clips that had audio, he could be heard constantly talking as he killed, sometimes seemingly to himself.

But that wasn't what made him so notorious. His healing factor was by far the most extensive Peter had ever heard of, with Deadpool being able to survive all injuries, whether it was a a broken bone or a severed head. The combination of his skill and healing abilities made him one of the most feared mercenaries.

Tony had once mused that if Deadpool put his mind to it, he could be one of their biggest threats. But he only killed for money, and seemingly had no desire to do any kills for free, something which Peter was thankful for.

But what was he doing here? He hadn't even known he was in New York.

"I guess that's what I get for not going out on patrol" he thought to himself.

Deadpool looked surprised to be recognised. "Woah how do you know who I am?" He asked. "I'm not exactly well known by normal people, I'm more used to being mistaken for Spiderman."

Peter smiled. "Well let's just say I have a personal interest in superheroes."

Deadpool looked at him skeptically. "Well kid, mind telling me what the hell you were doing just then? It seemed like you were just about to take a shortcut down to the pavement."

Peter had all but forgotten the whole reason he was up here, but now it hit him all at once. He felt the panic rise up, the over whelming feeling enveloping him until he felt like he couldn't breathe. He attempted to say something, but everything came out as fragmented mush, unable to form coherent sentences.

Deadpool put a gloved hand on each of peter's shoulders, trying to calm him.

"Calm down kid, everything is going to be fine, just try to focus on your breathing." He tried to sound calming, but internally he was panicking. He tired to remember what that idiot psychiatrist had told him in one of his brief stints in a mental hospital. "What's your name?"

Peter was breathing heavily, gasping for air, but he managed to squeeze out an answer. "Peter, Peter Parker" he gasped.

"Okay Peter, I want you to focus on what you hear, can you name five things you can hear for me?" He felt stupid, but this was all he could think of and he didn't feel right just leaving the kid.

Peter tried to concentrate on the sounds around him. "Uhhh, I can hear traffic, and uh, some sirens and ummm, the wind and uhhh, a dog barking." By this point he was already feeling significantly calmer.

He felt Deadpool's hands on his shoulders, and wondered if he should be running. All he had heard about Deadpool suggested that he was extremely dangerous and not to be trusted, but he was the only thing keeping Peter steady right now.

He started to regret taking those sleeping tablets now, he was barely clinging onto consciousness.

Deadpool noticed Peter starting to drift out of consciousness and started panicking. "Hey Petey stay with me!" He said, trying to stay calm. "Shit shit shit shit shit. Where do you live? I need to take you home."

Peter slumped into him, all strength leaving his body. He felt like he was going to pass out any second. " St..Stark T-Towers" he managed to squeeze out, barely registering Deadpool's shocked expression through his mask, the last thing he saw before he passed out.