trouble in paradise! (of radioactive rats and weirdly coloured eggs)
What makes a bomb ass montage song?
Well, here’s James Potter’s Absolutely Right Not Ever Ever Wrong Guide to Montage Songs.
- Electric guitar riffs ONLY. None of that acoustic bullshit.
- Insane backing bass guitar.
- Preferably from the late 70’s to early 2000’s
Yeah, that was it, for this specific montage.
So that approximately left ‘No Sleep Till Brooklyn’ by the Beastie Boys, ‘Hooked On A Feeling’ by Blue Swede and Bjorn Skifs, ‘Eye of the Tiger’ by Survivor and ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’ by Journey, if ya nasty.
Feel free, dear sexy readers, to imagine whichever song comes up first on Spotify shuffle play for the following montage clips as James and Spider-Man traipsed through the grid system.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
“HELP, WANKER!” Spidey called, lenses narrowing at James as he chased an important S.H.I.E.L.D document they had dropped in the wind.
James shrugged, watching the paper fly away as Spidey, hunched over trying to grab it while trying to look as nonchalant as possible, chase-speed-walked after it.
James then walked over to a nearby hot dog stand, passing a stray 10 bucks to the guy who handed him a hot dog lathered in mustard.
“You’re doing great, sweetie!” James called, giving Spidey a thumbs up.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
Cut to Spidey, perched on top of a building right in the middle of Times Square, surveying the community he was going to be protecting for the next few days.
And then cut to James, down with the community, waving at everyone he saw.
“SpideySpideySpideySpideySPIDEY!” James called, waving Spider-Man down, pointing excitedly at a person in a massive Mickey Mouse costume.
Spider-Man, sighing reluctantly, hopped down, looking at James unimpressed.
“The Mickey Mouse? Really? You do know that the guy underneath the costume’s, like, probably a druggie, right?”
James’ eyes widened as the Mickey Mouse trudged closer, waving at him and Spider-Man.
“Hey, kids!” He said in a goofy Mickey voice.
James clapped his hands to his cheeks, eyes widening through his mask as Spidey raised an eyebrow with crossed arms.
“Okay, fine,” he dropped the voice, revealing the voice of a fifty-something year old smoker. The thing was, he couldn’t have been older than 30. “We’re all cosplayers here. Give me your fuckin’ money.”
Out of nowhere, he pulled out a whole ass glock, pointing it at them in the middle of Times Square.
Spider-Man, less phased than James, webbed the glock out of his hands and webbed him to a wall far enough out of sight that little kids wouldn’t be literally traumatised. “Not cosplayers.”
Cue them walking out of the scene.
James reappeared five seconds later, running to steal the Mickey head and putting it on, skipping away singing “M-I-C-K-E-Y, M-O-U-S-E!-” *unintelligle mumbling because he forgot the lyrics* “-It’s the Mickey Mouse clubhouse!”
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
“Damn, sit on me like that, baby!” James called to Spidey, who was balancing on the very top of the spire of the Empire State building.
James, however, was hugging the pole that was the spire, trying not to fall off.
Spider-Man huffed - the sound James learned to love so much - and hopped down, standing next to James.
“Guess what DP?”
“Ooh, is it nickname time? ‘Cause I’ve got-”
He didn’t even get to finish his sentence because Spider-Man pushed him off!
The Empire State Building!
So he had to dangle upside down with webbing attached to his foot for half a minute before profusely apologising enough to appease Spider-Man!
Blasphemous!
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
“I don’t see how this is New York specific for this montage, but pop off,” James shrugged, getting handed an African dwarf frog by the aquarium attendant.
“Aww, look at you !” James cooed, patting it lightly with a leather-clad finger. “Look at him, Spidey!”
James shoved his hand near Spider-Man’s face, who was standing stiffly trying not to look at the frogs.
Spider-Man screeched a very manly screech, and didn’t remove himself from the ceiling until the frogs were far, far, far, far away from them an hour later.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
“I’m not taking a photo of this.”
“Take a photo!”
“No, I shan’t”
“Yes, you shan’t’ll!”
“I’m not wasting film on you posing as Lady Liberty in front of Lady Liberty.”
“Come on, we ditched the ferry to get all up close and personal to her! Venom and Eddie would love this! - Oop! Spoilers for Venom three! Sorry guys!”
“What?- Anyways, no!”
“Yes!”
“NO!”
“YES!”
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
deadpool_official @fr_deadpool_!!!
rhanks to everybabe that told me and @the_real_spidey to try authentic nyc food❗️❗️❗️😎🌭😍😍😍
:) pizza!
**blurry photo of a pizza covered in glitter, beads, random pizza-appropriate vegetables, unpeeled green bananas and a stray rubber chicken**
_____Replies_____
spiderman_official @the_real_spidey
i never ever ever ate this
sweetly-amelie @a
what.
mustardceruleanolive @shinyfog
“Yo mama so ugly deadpool would put her on a pizza and call it authentic”
🥭☕️🌭 @sof
oooooohh… honey…
jkka||MAX GOOF GF @miku.stan
**photo of Michelangelo from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles**
he would either be really disappointed or really impressed
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
“When did you buy this?” Spidey asked as they walked through the streets, showing James the tweet he had posted.
“...No comment.”
“Whatever,” he sighed resignedly. “Oh… shit.”
“What?” James craned his neck to look at the phone.
“A Daily Bugle reporter in New York, specifically for us.”
“Dude, but don’t they already have reporters here, like, in a proper office, Andie Anderson style?”
“ Yes, but they want a reporter specifically for coverage on us.”
“That suucks,” James breathed out. “Welp.”
He grabbed Spidey’s arm, dragging him into a nearby cafe.
“What do you wanna eat?”
“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Spider-Man asked skeptically, eyeing the menu.
“I already ate, before you woke up.”
And he actually had - James woke up in his hotel room, tugged his suit on and listened outside Spidey’s room for a second (they had separate rooms, sorry folks, no one bed trope this fic - stupid secret identities - and they probably had ten disease-ridden rats every two square meters), hearing soft snores still coming from the room.
Figuring that he was jet-lagged and tired, James left and bought some breakfast, coming back just in time before Spider-Man left his room.
James watched Spider-Man order, and quickly shoved him aside and paid before he could.
Mirroring chapter 19, James watched Spidey eat with cartoon heart eyes.
“What are you doing?” He frowned, taking another bite of his bagel.
“Adoring you,” James answered dopily, getting interrupted by his S.H.I.E.L.D communicator buzzing on his wrist.
“Wassup Nick-Nova?”
“Deadp- Nick-Nova?”
“Furyella? Fury the Missouri? Nick the Dick? Nick-kitten? Authoritarian Chip?”
“Okay, stop. I actually have something for you two to do- you know, that you came to New York for? News coverage has no problem showing you two doing everything you didn’t go there to do.”
“Pshh,” James scoffed, rolling his eyes. “We’re angels .”
“Yeah, right, angels that hide from amphibians on top of aquarium ceilings.”
“They’re slimy,” Spider-Man supplied earnestly with his mouth full.
“Right. Anyways, this is a stakeout mission. Strictly stakeout. We all know what happened last time you two went out for a stakeout, Spider-Man.”
Spidey shrugged sheepishly, although Fury couldn’t see him.
“What d’you need us to do, Nicky?” James asked
“Well, seeing that this is a stakeout, you two need to be discreet and quiet. No undercover. Just creep around. We’ll send you both maps to the tunnels in which your initial entrances will be, and you two just need to be as quiet and lowkey as possible.
The goal of this stakeout is to find out how this organisation works. How they control which symbiotes they experiment on and the basis of their quote-unquote ‘organisation.’
If everything goes well, you two will also get information about who the leader of the organisation is, and their intentions. We’ll send you in without any microphone and visual recorders, but you’ll still get information through your comms. This means no online communication with each other, but you’ll be getting online communication from S.H.I.E.L.D because we’re sure there won’t be any interference from our tech. The lack of online communication between yourselves means that there must be a competency in working together, -”
“Oh, trust me,” James assured Fury. “We can work together reaaally well.” To seal the deal, he sent a wink Spider-Man’s way.
“...Right.” Fury continued. “Well, considering you two were listening and Spider-Man wasn’t too preoccupied chowing down his bagel,-” Spider-Man paused and James could see the light flush of blush where his mask was pulled up to his nose. “-I’ll leave it there, and your details will be on your communication devices and phones as soon as possible.”
“Jeez,” James scoffed. “Just say ASAP.”
Fury hung up.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
Even while in the superhero capital, the two most important superheroes had to take the subway.
Not the tube.
Not the train.
Not the bus.
The New Yorkian subway.
After getting stopped multiple times for photos (most of the time for Spidey [‘Hey, Spider-guy. Spider-bro. Spider-boy. Spider-kid. Spider-furry. I don’t care, I just want a picture.”] , but occasionally a few teenagers with good taste asked James for a photo with a dildo [don’t ask him. Teenagers are weird.]), Spider-Man and James had finally squished themselves onto the subway.
James had insisted that Spidey let his back be pressed up against the wall as opposed to floating around the middle of the crowded subway to protect his beloved katanas, so James was leaning against the wall next to where the doors open and Spidey was standing in front of him, trying not to get accidentally groped (but have you seen that ass? It wouldn’t be accidental.) and trying not to get all up in James.
Which he really really really really really wouldn’t mind.
“So… how about them Yankee-”
“Shut up.” Spider-Man growled, clutching James’ forearm as to not drift into yet another drunk guy.
“Yessir.” James nodded resolutely.
A man approached them, grinning widely and holding a plastic zip lock bag. “Do you want a hard boiled egg?”
He demonstrated eating the hard boiled egg by… well… eating a hard boiled egg that he produced from nowhere.
The inside was cerulean blue. Specifically the hex code #046E8F.
“...No thanks mate.” James shook his head slowly, sensing Spider-Man wouldn’t want to kiss him later if he had eaten a random hard boiled egg from a hobo on the subway.
“Aw well,” the man shrugged. “More for me.”
He then took the hard boiled egg from the bag and ate it.
The inside was chinese violet purple. Specifically #A5668B.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
“We’re going down around…” Spider-Man muttered as he consulted the map on his watch, wandering around the sidewalk to find a tunnel entrance. “Here.”
He stopped in front of a manhole cover, pointing at it.
“Aww, that’s rank .” James grumbled, looking down at it desolately.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
“This is disgusting.” James frowned, inspecting the green goop running down the side of a sewer tunnel.
“I’ll do you one better. It’s a cesspool of human, rat, dog and radioactive cockroach shit. -”
“-Can cockroaches even shit?-”
“-A fucking maze of filth and waste that Daedalus himself would be jealous of. This is horrendous. This is horrible. This is the very bane of human - or should I say in human - life-”
“Are you done?” Fury’s voice crackled in their ears through the comms.
“Whatever.” Spidey huffed, crossing his arms.
“I trust you two have your map open? Doesn’t matter, I don’t want to hear. We’ve got Agent Mcgonagall with you to guide you. She’ll chime in every few minutes to make sure you’re on the right track, and from now on your microphones will be turned off. Capische? Capische.”
“Spider-Man. Deadpool.” A voice James knew very well came to life in their ears.
“Minnie!” He cheered, getting a hand slapped over his mouth by Spider-Man while his voice echoed through the tunnel.
“Well, now that you know how much these tunnels echo, I’ll only be joining you every ten minutes, and your locations are on the tracking systems, unless anything interferes with the database. Even though you have limited access to S.H.I.E.L.D archives, this mission calls for resilience. Remember that. Your mission, currently, is to find out as much as possible about the Black Corp leader of this operation.”
Then she hung up, leaving them with their mask-required heavy breathing and the echoing drip of water piss.
If it wasn’t made obvious, Queen wrote Killer Queen for members of the Black family. Even the disowned ones. Especially the disowned ones.
No but literally. Every one of them.
Sirius, Andromeda, Regulus, Bellatrix, Narcissa, Alphard - the whole lot.
As they walked, a rat as large as the floor to James’ knee scurried out in front of them.
Spidey yelped and jumped up onto James’ back.
“Oof-” James grunted, adjusting to the new weight.
“Sorry! Sorry.” Spider-Man squeaked. “New York sewer rats freak me out.”
“It’s all good baby, just give me a bit of warning before, yeah?”
James adjusted Spider-Man so that he was sitting on James’ shoulders, far away from the rats.
The tunnel, at that point, was so tall that Spidey didn’t even have to duck slightly.
“Nobody hears of this. Ever. Or else I’ll rip your-”
“Yeah yeah, I got it babe, ‘ death on your whole family!’ ‘Death on your ancestors!’ ‘Death on everyone who’s ever met you!’ Calm down Mushu, Mulan’s an 18 hour flight away.”
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
“Coming up on your right.” Minerva reminded them.
“Wha- oh. Hell no.” Spidey shook his head.
They both looked at the tiny tunnel next to them, just larger than a vent but still small enough that they’d need to crawl to get around.
Spider-Man gingerly lifted himself off James’ shoulders and ducked down to look inside the dark tunnel dripping with algae or something.
“This should be the entrance into one of the experiment rooms on the symbiotes. Through there you can access employee tunnels that will, eventually, lead you to the warehouse that’s used as a front for leading into the tunnel.”
James and Spider-Man looked at each other uncomfortably for a second.
“Ladies first,” James offered meekly.
“You just want to look at my ass.”
“Guilty.”
“ You go.”
“Fine,” James groaned, ducking down to look inside the tiny tunnel, taking a deep breath, and crawling in.
He heard Spider-Man groan softly before following him into the tunnel.
“This kinda like being in the womb dawg.” James remarked. “Except my mum’s exit hole’s a lot nicer than this dump, I’d imagine.”
“Speak for yourself.”
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
“Whoa-ly shit.” James breathed out, looking at the lab. It had dozens of giant glass cylinders with lights at the top and bottom.
In the middle of them, however, were multiple Venom-like symbiote gooey things.
And because James is an empath, he felt that they were in pain.
Not because they were writhing around and screeching inside the glass.
Attached to every cylinder was a panel displaying information that James couldn’t understand for shit.
But apparently Spidey could.
James heard a sharp intake of breath from next to him. “They’re testing the symbiotes on people.” Spider-Man said. “And they’re testing parts of the symbiotes for compatibility. Lots of DNA encryptures.”
“The heat map is sensing three people coming your way.” Minnie said.
“Fuck,” James looked around frantically. Why was the lab so… clean? It was in the middle of a New York sewer tunnel, for fuck’s sake.
Spider-Man grabbed him by the waist and webbed them to the ceiling as three scientists came in to check on a symbiote that was specifically writhing more than the others.
Probably one that was tested more recently.
James could count three bodyguards standing in front of the doors that the scientists walked through.
Spider-Man shuffled them closer into the shadows of the corner of the ceiling as the scientists finished up.
“If you-” Minerva’s voice cut out, crackling and fizzing away.
Her voice, instead, was interrupted with that very well known AI voice that does the ‘10 Tips You Need To Know That Could Save Your Life’ TikToks.
James and Spider-Man paused as the voice spoke up, louder than Minerva was.
“ Spider-Man and Deadpool. Welcome. Come and find me.”
Then the voice dropped out.
“We need to scour as much as we can. We need to split up.” Spider-Man decided, dropping down on the floor in his signature crouch.
“Come on, it’s like, rule number one in horror movies that we don’t do that. That, and don’t be a hoe.”
“Well you’ve already broken that rule. Um, I can try slinking around to cover as much ground as possible, and you go full Jackie Chan on their asses? The undercover thing can go fuck itself.”
“Y-yeah. Okay. Okay, I can do that.”
Jame started to turn around to leave, when Spider-Man grabbed him by the arm.
“ No killing. Be safe.”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine, the author wouldn’t do me dirty like that. We’re really toight”
Not really.
“Yes we are.”
Shut up James. you’re scaring your lady love.
“Oh, right! I’ll be fine, you be safe. Goodbye, Noah Calhoun.”
“ Oh my god, man, this is not The Notebook.”
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
James paused for a few seconds, watching Spider-Man crawl away on the ceiling, making sure he got to the end of the corridor safely before turning to the guards who had just spotted him.
“Hey! What are you-”
James held up a gloved finger, pulling out his Hatsune Miku branded portable Sony Walkman cassette player.
He put the headphones on and tucked the Walkman into one of his pouches, patting himself down to make sure he had everything on him (his signature burrito, featuring dried mango [secret ingredient alert!]), with the guards still paused in shock, looking at each other.
“...Okay.” James nodded, gesturing for them to come closer.
As quickly they started running to him, they got knocked out.
I wanna hold ‘em like they do in Texas, please
The sounds of leather whooshing and the grunts of the security guards alerted another flurry of security guards, who came running to James.
Fold ‘em, let ‘em, hit me, raise it, baby, stay with me
James decided that it was finally time to bring Bea and Arthur out, unsheathing them from his back.
“Hello ladies,” he cooed at his katanas, back-kicking a guard away.
Love game intuition, play the cards with spades to start
And after he's been hooked, I'll play the one that's on his heart
“Aw, boys, there’s enough of me to go around!” James snorted, elbowing a guard in the face.
Oh, whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got
Oh, whoa, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got
“West Wing! Suited man! Bring backup!” A guard was frantically yelling into the radio.
James strutted over to him, picking the radio up and dropping it, crushing it under his heel.
“It’s Deadpool, I’m not a ‘suited man’. That’s my boo Vincent Vega. You know, John Travolta? Pulp Fiction?”
Can't read my, can't read my
No, he can't read my poker face
(She's got me like nobody)
Can't read my, can't read my
No, he can't read my poker face
(She's got me like nobody)
“Do you know she says ‘poker face, fuck her face’ in this song? Craazy man. Drop to the floor if you agree.”
And he did.
P-p-p-poker face, f-f-fuck her face (mum-mum-mum-mah)
P-p-p-poker face, f-f-fuck her face (mum-mum-mum-mah)
“Heey, perfect timing!”
I wanna roll with him, a hard pair we will be (hey)
A little gamblin' is fun when you're with me (I love it)
“Oh my god,” James groaned, shaking off his foot, where a stray security guard was slumped on the floor. “You guys better stop real soon, or else I’ll make you eat a curry pizza.”
Don’t get him wrong, even as a proud Desi man, James fucking hated curry pizza. Whose idea even was it?
Russian roulette is not the same without a gun
And baby, when it's love, if it's not rough, it isn't fun (fun)
“Deadpool!” A guard barked, sprinting towards him.
“Shut up dude, you’re built like an anemone.”
Oh, whoa, oh, oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got
Oh, whoa, oh, oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got
Can't read my, can't read my
No, he can't read my poker face (She's got me like nobody)
Can't read my, can't read my
No, he can't read my poker face (She's got me like nobody)
James strutted around, rounding the corner.
So far, he’d only shot a few people in the leg, knocked a few people out and stabbed a few people. Nothing lethal.
He quietened his steps as he walked behind two security guards, who were talking about… Spidey?
P-p-p-poker face, f-f-fuck her face (mum-mum-mum-mah)
P-p-p-poker face, f-f-fuck her face (mum-mum-mum-mah)
“Where is he?”
“I dunno, but that Spider-guy’s a pain in the ass.”
“You’re telling me,” the security guard scoffed. “He’s so stupid.”
I won't tell you that I love you, kiss or hug you
'Cause I'm bluffin' with my muffin
“Exactly. The people at the news have got the right idea. He’s honestly just going to go down fuckin’ stupidly.”
“For a guy who’s got ‘spider powers’, he’s not very agile. Or smart. What’s he doing, huh? Coming up in a place like this?”
I'm not lying, I'm just stunnin' with my love-glue-gunnin'
Just like a chick in the casino
James snorted from behind them, and they whipped around.
“You two? Insulting my babygirl like that? That’s rich.”
Take your bank before I pay you out
I promise this, promise this
Check this hand 'cause I'm marvellous
“Are you for real? He’s so stupid,” a guard scoffed, getting too confident with himself. “The boss’ about to kill him. He’s not with you, yeah? You’re a pretty solid threat. But he’s not with you? He’s probably fuckin’ dead. ” He spat.
“Man, shut the fuck up,” the other guard hissed.
Then there were red lasers dancing across his chest, more vibrant than the material of the suit.
Can't read my, can't read my
No, he can't read my poker face (She's got me like nobody)
“Now, you wanna come with us or make a mess?” The second guard asked.
“Mess like you pee your pants?” James snorted. He could feel his restraint slipping, slowly. “Or mess like you cum everywhere? Wouldn’t be a first time for me in either situation.”
Can't read my, can't read my
No, he can't read my poker face (She's got me like nobody)
Can't read my, can't read my
The men started running towards James with their guns, and it was over.
Well, it wasn’t over.
Their lives? Those were over.
Shyeah, they were so over.
But James blanked out, just like old times. He held up his katanas, and they were through the men’s stomachs in a split second.
Guess those bullet proof vests weren’t any use, huh, Maximus? Maybe he’d think twice before insulting Spider-Man. Well, he was dead, so he couldn’t think twice about anything .
No, he can't read my poker face (She's got me like nobody)
Can't read my, can't read my
James patted himself down, pulling out a Sharpie and a piece of paper.
‘DAYS WITHOUT AN UNALIVING:’ it read.
James crossed out the -rather large- number, and wrote a nice big ‘0!’
No, he can't read my poker face (She's got me like nobody)
Can't read my, can't read my
James picked up a radio off one of the guys, and rummaged through his pockets for some sustanance. Read: his burrito.
Okay, he’s gonna let you in on a little trade secret: the burrito featuring dried mango pieces? That was his killing burrito. Special wrapper, too.
It was his signature meal after killing, and of course, in signature dramatic fashion, he’d leave traces of Deadpool’s burrito on his victims.
No, he can't read my poker face (She's got me like nobody)
Can't read my, can't read my
This wasn’t a new occurrence.
After eating, he tossed the burrito wrapper on one of the men, walking (moonwalking) away.
Yeah, Spider-Man was going to make him eat shit for this if he found out.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
“Deadpool!”
James jumped and flinched, he was still in killing mode, stalking around corners while gripping tightly onto his gun.
“Oh… what’s up, Spidey?” He relaxed, holstering his gun at his thigh.
“ What’s up? Why did I just find two guards, -” Fuck. “ Dead?”
“Uh…” James kicked the toe of his boot into the concrete floor, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“What. The- FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” Spider-Man exploded.
“Aww, I’m sure you say that to all the ladies.”
“SHUT UP!”
Then Spider-Man started pacing around.
And a sick version of James thought good. It was about time Spider-Man got angry with him too. He didn’t put it past him.
Yes, Spider-Man, get mad.
Blow up.
How far can you be pushed?
Now mind you, this wasn’t James James. This was Deadpool.
Every single day it got easier to separate James from Deadpool. To be honest, they were very different people, aside from the select few annoying tendencies they had in common.
Deadpool never had Euphemia and Fleamont. Deadpool never had Sirius or Peter or Remus or Lily or Marlene or Mary or anyone, really. Deadpool was an impulsive adrenaline junkie maniac.
If you think about it, James was too. By extension. But nobody ever looked that deep.
Fuck, even James didn’t look that deep.
“You know what? Fuck you. Go away. Leave me alone.” Spider-Man hissed, posture tense and hunched.
James smiled tensely under the mask, looking away with nostrils flaring slightly because this was Spider-Man, all reared up and ready.
And James felt relaxed.
Not like he was after a long day of work, but relaxed like he didn’t have to keep up the facade anymore.
Relaxed like the deep pit in his stomach swallowed him whole. Calm.
“You can’t-you can’t just kill people, god.” Spider-Man continued thickly.
But he could.
And it was easy.
James looked up at Spider-Man and there he was. A fucking hero. Not a wannabe hero like James, because let’s be for real, James was never a hero.
He didn’t think in as much black-and-white as heroes. Which turned out worse for him.
But an actual hero, who cared about everybody .
Spider-Man was talking again - his mask was moving. But James didn’t hear. God, fuck, he didn’t hear.
“-I just-I just need to do this alone. Go.”
“Spidey,” James started, spurring into action.
“ No. No. I had one rule, god, fuck, and you broke it , Deadpool.” Yeah, no killing.
James had broken it. In an impressive timeframe, if you will.
He glared down at the wet patch of… something on the floor, practically unmoving.
He couldn’t let Spider-Man go alone, though. He had fucked up royally enough, and Spider-Man had no idea how much he fucked up.
He also had no idea how much James couldn’t let him finish the mission alone.
James wished he could go. James wished he could stumble home shitfaced from the bar after seeing the news on the small shitty beaten up TV in the corner of the room and seeing Spider-Man triumphantly busting whatever was in these stupid motherfucking tunnels.
But he couldn’t.
He was stuck trying to help. Spider-Man couldn’t know, though.
James watched Spider-Man turn around on his heel and web himself away, no doubt to go looking for something else or to leave and regroup.
He couldn’t even contact S.H.I.E.L.D because their comms were busted and hacked by whoever ran the operation.
James stood there for a few seconds, wallowing, before the radio he had nicked crackled.
“ Boss waiting near the East Wing, all troops gather.”
What was this military language, yo?
But anyways, James knew where he had to go to get answers, and holy fuck, he wanted answers.
~something in the way, hmm-mmmm~
~something in the way, yeah, hmm-mmmm~
God, James, wrong superhero!