Disconnection

Chapter 6

Peter spent the morning with Tony in his lab, working through new suit designs, with Steve occasionally dropping in to see how it was going. They decided on new synthetic materials that could be woven into the suit to reinforce it to soften impact, changed the shades slightly and made the fabric more breathable, designed to let more heat out and reduce sweat. Overall, it was a pretty productive morning, and Peter found himself enjoying himself.

He was grateful that Tony had avoided mentioning Peter going back on patrol as Spider Man, as he didn't know if he was ready for that yet, or if he ever would be. He avoided using his abilities other than when he needed to, and he hadn’t used his webbing for a year. He was tempted to try it, just to see if he still could, but it kind of felt better knowing that maybe he couldn’t. As guilty as it made him feel, it meant that maybe he wouldn’t ever have to be spider man again, he wouldn't have to have all that responsibility and pressure to always succeed or people would die.

As he left the lab, he checked his phone, frowning at the blank screen. What was up with Wade? He hadn’t replied to his message yesterday, or the one he sent this morning.

He vaguely remembered where Wade lived, so he decided to drop in, just to check that he was alright. He let Steve know, who sternly reminded him of his new curfew, and set off to Wade’s apartment, deciding to walk there as it was only about 30 minutes away.

As he walked he thought about why Wade wasn’t replying. Maybe he just doesn’t want to hang out with me? He thought to himself. Or he could just be busy with work, his schedule isn't exactly regular.

As Peter arrived at his apartment, he found himself getting nervous. He hoped that Wade had some sort of reason, because he didn’t know if he could handle it if he was just ignoring him.

He knocked on the door and waited.

And waited

And waited

After a few minutes, he knocked again, but there was still no answer.

He’s probably just busy with work. But Peter couldn’t help worrying. What if he’s hurt after a mission? He could be laying there bleeding out with no one to help him? Who knows how effective his healing factor is?!

Peter ran outside the building, and checked if anyone was around. When he was satisfied no one would see him, he carefully scaled up the building until he got to Wade’s window, which was thankfully unlocked. I guess when it comes to the type of people Wade deals with, a simple window isn’t going to stop them he thought to himself.

As he carefully climbed through the small window he noticed how he fit through a little too easily. Crap, have I really lost that much weight? Maybe I should think about bulking up a little.  

He stepped into the room and closed the window, deciding to lock it anyway.

Without the breeze coming through, the stench hit him like a speeding train. He turned around, taking in the trashed apartment, looking nothing like it had a few days ago. The couch that Peter had laid on was tipped over, its cushions strewn around the room. Weapons littered the floor, various guns and ammunition in piles. Peter cautiously stepped around them, narrowly avoiding stepping on a katana, its counterpart stabbed into the wall.

What on earth happened here?

Peter followed the stench to the bedroom door. It was shut last time he was here, and he didn’t know whether he should open it. But his concern for Wade won out, and he opened the door.

He was filled with relief when he saw that the room was trashed but empty, fearing that he would find Wade, injured or worse. But his relief was short lived, as he caught a splash of red in the bathroom.

The door was half opened, blood spattered around the rim. As he tentatively stepped closer, he saw the pool of deep red blood on the floor.

He took a sharp breath, and stepped into the bathroom.

The smell was a thousand times worse, making him gag and retch. But it couldn't compare to the scene before him.

It took Peter a moment to process what he was seeing, and then it all hit him at once.

Wade was laying sprawled in the tub, blood all around him, his head resting in a deep red pool with pieces of what appeared to be brain matter floating in it. There was blood splattered all over the walls, the floor and most importantly, him, almost camouflaged in the red fabric of his suit. It seemed to be coming from the hole in the centre of  Wade’s forehead, cleanly going all the way through to the other side. There were several bullets lying around, implying that this wasn't the first time this had happened. The whole scene looked like something straight out of a horror movie, reminiscent of a scene from SAW.

Peter turned to the sink and immediately threw up, heaving until his stomach had nothing left to give. He turned around, making sure not to see the scene that laid behind him, and went to the kitchen, rinsing his mouth out with water straight from the tap.

When he was satisfied that the taste was out of his mouth he took a long drink, trying to calm himself down after what he had just witnessed. He still felt like he hadn’t processed what he saw, like it was all happening to some other Peter Parker.

C’mon Peter pull yourself together He thought to himself. He didn't know much about Wade’s healing factor but he knew that although he would heal, it could take hours.  

He looked around the room, taking in it’s chaotic state and sighed. Well if he was going to be waiting anyway, he may as well help clean up. He took a deep breath, and got to work.

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Peter laid on the now upright couch with his feet in the air, playing Mario Kart on Wade’s DS. It had been two hours since he found him in the bathroom, which he had avoided except to close the door. After he cleaned up the apartment, he found the Ds on the floor underneath a pile of ammunition, surprisingly undamaged. He had sorted the weapons into a pile, laying the katanas on the kitchen countertop. He was tempted to play around with them, but he knew Wade was very possessive of them, so he carefully removed one from the wall and put them down together. They seemed better together.

After all this, he was pretty tired out, but he didn't want to leave Wade alone until he knew he was okay. He sent his dads a quick message, letting them know that he was still at Wade’s and settled into the couch, promptly falling asleep.

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Wade reluctantly shifted back to reality, enjoying the peace that came with his temporary death. He groggily sat up, the familiar scent of blood around him. He groaned as he remembered how he ended up in the tub, feeling disgusted with himself. Well, there's one way to fix that he thought to himself darkly. He felt around for the familiar feel of his gun, his fingers closing around the cool metal of the grip.

He lazily put the gun to the side of his head rather than the front, just to change it up a little.

He felt the cool metal on his head and pulled the trigger.

Click

Aw fuck, we’re out of ammo

Y: that's probably a good thing

W: You dumbass, get up and reload, c’mon we haven’t got all day

Wade pulled himself up, dried blood covering his suit.

“Okay, okay I’m getting there, give me a second”

He stumbled over to the blood splattered mirror, inspecting his head in the reflection.

Y: Wow you didn’t even remember to take off the mask, you know how much of a bitch those are to fix?

W: Who cares? Just hurry up and find some more ammo so you can blow your brains out

“Yeah, you’re right” He said as he pulled off the bloodstained mask, poking a finger through the hole “Damn, I'll mend it when I wake up again.”

Wade walked out of the bathroom and through the bedroom, yawning as he walked into the living room. He looked around in shock at the now clean room, Bea and Arthur neatly set on the kitchen counter.

He heard an intake of breath, setting him on guard immediately. He moved around the room with his gun in hand, relaxing when he saw Peter’s slender frame sprawled over the couch. He frowned behind his mask when he noticed that Peter was cold, small goose bumps spread over his arms.

Wade retrieved his blanket from his bed, giving it a quick sniff to check that it didn’t smell bad, ignoring the boxes’ mean comments about it. As he carefully spread it over Peter, he couldn’t help noticing how peaceful he looked, contrasting to his usual expression of worry.

W: Stop being such a perv, you know he would scream if he saw you right now with your face exposed.

Y: Why did you even let him know where you live? Do you really want to fuck up this kid’s life with all your crazy?

“He was the one who wanted to be friends, I tried to stop him, I even ignored his texts” Wade mumbled to himself.

Y: That’s bullshit and you know it, you should have left this city the moment you met him.

W: And it’s not like you just wanted to be ‘friends’. It took a bullet in your brain for you to stop yourself texting him back. Admit it, you like the kid a lot more than he likes you.

“No, it’s not like that, I know that would never happen”

W: Just do yourself a favour and find some damn bullets to shoot into your skull.

Wade tried to block out the incessant screaming of the voices in his head, but there was only one way to get them to stop, and the sound of gunshot was sure to wake Peter up.

“Fuck, what am I supposed to do now?”

Y: you could always go with a more manual approach, just stick a blade through your brain.

W: or you could get creative, watch a few final destination movies and try some of them out.

Wade groaned as the voices started yelling, competing against each other for the best way for him to achieve his temporary ‘death’. His mind felt like it was going to explode from the pressure.

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP” Wade yelled, silencing the voices for a moment, but also waking up Peter.

Shit.