Grizzly Business
The following morning.
"Wakey wakey, Wade." Two hard slaps on the side of his face were what greeted Deadpool to the waking world that day. He blinked his eyes open, his head feeling like it was filled with concrete, and looked around. A man in a sharp suit was staring at him, hands in his pockets, with a very unhappy look on his face. "There's our big boy." He said. "How are you feeling? You comfortable?"
From the man's sarcastic tone Deadpool realised that he was strapped to a chair, and as his eyes focused he saw that he was in the middle of an enormous, empty warehouse. From the shuffling and rustling coming from behind him he assumed there were also goons here as well. Great. Who wanted to fuck with him this time?
Wade spoke, already bored. "Ok, let's skip the bullshit. Who do you work for, why are you pissed at me, what do you want me to do about it, and what are you gonna do to make me do something about it?"
The man in the suit raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Very succinct. You been in situations like this before, Wade?"
"Oh my godddd. Just answer the fucking questions, smartass! Why do you people always insist on some bullshit spiel to barf at me to make you seem so in control and so relaxed. I fucking know you're in control! I am the one strapped to a chair, am I not?"
The suited man smiled. "I work for Mr Akiyama."
"Ah. So you must be Akio. Aww. How is he? Is he doing well? The kids alright? Tell him 'hi' from me."
"Actually, Wade. He's very unhappy with you at the moment. He wants to know where his guns are."
Deadpool played dumb, but he was beginning to remember just what had pissed off the yakuza boss so much. "What guns?"
"The guns you stole from his warehouse. He wants them back."
"Listen, buddy, I steal a lot of shit. You're gonna have to be more specific." Deadpool quipped.
"700 semi-automatic assault rifles. Freshly boxed and ready for shipping. Gone. Stolen. By you. Ringing any bells?"
"Nope."
The man in the suit didn't look perturbed at Wade's insolence, in fact his smile grew wider. He walked closer to the chair Wade was strapped to, and the anti-hero braced for a sucker punch, but the tightly groomed man carried on past Wade, outside of his field of vision.
"Well, we happen to know that you are pretty used to torture, to the point of immunity. But maybe this will jog your memory." At the snap of his fingers Wade's chair was picked up by two hulking goons and rotated 180 degrees, revealing a sight that made his stomach drop like an asteroid. There, wrists and ankles strapped tightly to a large metal chair, a thick black strip of tape covering his mouth, still wearing his pyjama top and underwear from the previous night they had spent together, was Peter Parker, his eyes occasionally opening as if slowly awakening from a drug-induced slumber.
Deadpool's mouth went dry, his eyes widened, and for the first time in a very long time Wade Wilson felt the acidic bite of pure fear.
"Peter?" He whispered, and he posed it as a question, as if he could make the answer no if he willed it hard enough.
"We found this handsome fellow sharing your bed when we broke in." Akio said, grabbing a fistful of Peter's hair and holding his lolling head straight, snapping the young man conscious enough to realise where he was and start panicking through his gag. "Luckily for us and...unluckily for him. You wouldn't want this little cutie to get hurt, would you? Where are the guns?"
Deadpool properly strained at the straps at his wrist for the first time, unable to hide his discomfort and panic for Peter's welfare. The gang, thinking to rely on Wade's not wanting an innocent citizen to be harmed to make him talk, had unknowingly kidnapped the love of his life and was threatening to hurt him in front of his very eyes.
"Ok, ok, let's not be too hasty, let me think about it! You were gonna ship them to a Ugandan warlord or something, right?"
"Correct." Akoi nodded sharply, immense satisfaction glinting in his eyes. He hadn't expected the unsuited mercenary to have such a strong reaction to the boy's capture.
"I...I...FUCK!" Deadpool cried in frustration. He was panicking at the sight of Peter in such a vulnerable position and the memory of this one specific theft was like trying to remember your breakfast from three months ago. He really did steal a lot. "I can't fucking remember! Where was the warehou--"
The eye-watering smack of a fist on bone echoed through the warehouse, with a muffled grunt following milliseconds after it. Akoi had ruthlessly punched Peter across the face, leaving a great red mark up the side of his countenance. The superhero's eyes widened at the flash of pain and then drooped slightly. The force of that one punch alone probably would have left a regular person unconscious or at the very least dazed, but Peter merely had to deal with the brutal pain. This was, perhaps, the one situation when having increased resistance was more of a curse than a blessing: it stopped you from passing out to escaping the pain.
"STOP!" Wade called desperately, leaning forward in his chair, straining against his arm straps.
"Think, Mr Wilson. Think, think think." The slender man stroked Peter's hair softly, a sinister disparity to the swift violence that had just occurred.
Wade's voice was wavering with panic. "Ok. I heard talk of the shipment from an acquaintance of mine, checked it out, saw it was due for the some warlord..." He was talking to himself more than Akoi, frantically dredging his mind for the what he'd done.
Another blow landed on the other side of Peter's face, the movement as sudden as a viper strike. "Hurry up."
"Stop! I'm thinking, ok? Just stop hitting him."
Yet another blow, harder this time, Peter letting out a pained whimper. The swelling from his first strike was already making itself known.
"OK! OK! I broke into the warehouse, moved all the boxes into my truck," His eyes were screwed shut as he mentally retraced his footsteps. "and I..."
Akoi primed his fist threateningly.
"And I drove them to the bronx...and..."
Peter winced in preparation.
"AND I HAD THEM MELTED DOWN!" Wade blurted, hurried by the threat of yet another punch, before realising the mistake he'd made.
Akoi dropped his arm, his eyes filling with fury. "You had them melted down." He stared at the merc, who knew better than to respond. He had seriously fucked up. Akoi bit his knuckles in frustration, stamped his foot on the floor and ran his fingers through his jet black hair. The following slap sounded like a thunderclap, and it sent Peter reeling, his tortured groan muffled by the tape. "You stupid idiot. You fucking moron. Mr Akiyama will be most displeased." He walked over to Wade and bent slightly, making eye contact with him. "You will pay for this, Mr Wilson. Most harshly. Bring in the picana!" He shouted to his men.
"What? You can't! You sick cunt!" Deadpool yelled, knowing what was coming. Peter didn't know what was coming, but he was terrified.
Seconds later two goons strode over, one carrying a box that looked slightly like an amp with a long wire attaching it to a thick baton, the other carrying a bucket of ice-cold water, which was promptly thrown over Peter, drenching him completely. A third goon then sliced off Peter's pyjama top with huge scissors. Peter felt sick to his stomach with fear. These guys were not fucking around.
The box was plugged into a floor socket, and the baton was promptly handed to Akoi, who tossed it from hand to hand and crept towards the now shivering Peter.
"Don't do this, Akoi! This is evil, even for you!" Wade was shouting, trying anything to get the gang member to have mercy, but Akoi ignored Wade entirely and focused his attention on the sopping wet lad. He was tugging his arms and legs at the straps in vain, too panicked to attempt a coordinated focusing of strength. The leg restraints were starting to chafe on his bare ankles.
"Ever felt the bite of a picana, kid? No?" An evil smile spread across the man's face. "Do you want to?"
Even though Peter knew the man was toying with him he shook his head pleadingly, dread in his dark brown eyes, begging him to have mercy.
"Aww, come on. It's not that bad. It'll put some hairs on your chest, that's for sure." He inched the prod nearer to the lad's bare chest and Peter shrank as far back as he physically could, eye shut tight, but the two sticks of metal protruding from the end eventually landed on his flesh.
Peter screamed through the tape, throwing his head back in pure agony as flaming electricity arced across his pale flesh. He hadn't felt anything like it before. It was indescribable, intimately close as if he was being smothered with unadulterated suffering. He shrieked for seconds that dragged like hours until the prod was lifted from his skin. He sagged in the chair, struggling to catch his breath back through just his nose. Wade was shouting angrily in the background but he didn't have the energy to focus on his words. His head suddenly felt like a great weight and it lolled to the side as the fiery sensation on his skin dissipated.
"Stop it! I'll get you the fucking guns back, I-I'll buy you new ones! Just stop it!"
"It's too late for that, Mr Wilson. The damage is done."
Wade could only watch in horror as the prod was lowered to his lover's flesh again and again as his pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. He begged and he pleaded and he threatened and yelled but all of it was ignored. Tears filled his eyes as Peter arched his back in pure agony for the fifth time, Akoi poking the rod into his lower abs this time. Wade would never forget the sound of Peter's muffled screams for mercy and screams of agony as long as he lived. This was by far the worst torture he had ever been subjected to. His soul felt like it was being shredded and a deep despair filled him, a hopeless self-loathing at the fact that he was powerless to save the person he loved from brutal torture.
But a faint voice whispered in his mind. You aren't powerless, you stupid fuck.
And he realised what a stupid idiot he had been. He was Deadpool. He was practically indestructible. He would break out of this fucking chair even if it meant breaking himself. With a surge of strength fuelled by yet another shriek of torment Wade tugged at his wrists in the straps with unrelenting fury. He tugged until he felt his bones crack and break, gritting his teeth through the pain. It was nothing compared to what Peter was going through. Peter. His carpal and wrist bones kept bending and cracking out of shape, allowing his hands and wrists to squash into unnatural formations. With two final yanks his hands slipped free of the leather restraints.
All sadistic attention was focused on Peter's suffering, so Wade was free to bend slowly down and undo his ankle restraints. With his face now an alarmingly straight mask of absolute rage he set about freeing his love from the hands of evil. Fury poured through him like magma and for once in his life Deadpool did not have a witty quip on his tongue. Silently, gracefully, he picked up his iron chair and smashed it across the nearest goon's head with sickeningly satisfying crunch and grabbed the gun from his belt before he even had the chance to crumple to the ground. Three shots to the next nearest sent him sprawling too, dead. By then every goon in the room had realised he had escaped and were arming themselves.
Akoi gasped in shock and frustration that he had let the mercenary break free so easily, but he adapted quickly, whipping a pistol from his belt and firing three shots at Wade's torso. All of them struck, but their stings only poured kerosine onto his anger. The barrage of bullets fired by the goons didn't even phase him. Akoi had the sense to shield himself behind Peter who was still panting in the chair, in his underwear, and barefoot. He must be freezing. Focus, Wade!
The remaining goons weren't so smart. They all died with holes in their foreheads.
Wade dropped the empty gun and picked up the gun of his second kill that day. Judging by the lack of reinforcements pouring into the building, they must have been the only gang members here. Good. That only left the person he really wanted to fucking kill.
Akoi leapt up from behind Peter's chair and put him in a chokehold, pressing the cold barrel of his gun to the superhero's temple. "Take one more step, Wade, and loverboy here dies."
Wade stopped walking.
"Let me leave and he lives. Stay where you are!" The gang-leader's right hand man started awkwardly stepping backwards, trying to drag the heavy chair with him.
"Take your time." Wade said, unable to help himself from a sarcastic jab, though the gun pressed to Peter's temple had him completely on edge. One pull of a trigger and his world would spiral down the drain before his very eyes.
A high-pitched screeching filled the warehouse as the chair was dragged backwards on its hind legs, painfully slow. Wade could only watch. He knew that Akoi wasn't fucking around. If he took a single step Peter would die.
For the second time that day, Wade was powerless.
That didn't mean Peter was.
Taking as deep a breath as he could through his nose, Peter braced. With the speed of a leaping spider Peter flung his head backwards violently, crashing directly into his torturer's nose and breaking it with a wet crack, sending the man sprawling backwards howling, the chair dropping backwards also. Wade silently blessed his boyfriend, sprinting over to the man with blood smeared on his face and kicking his gun far, far out of reach. Wade also shot the man in each of his limbs for good measure. He wasn't going anywhere soon.
Then Wade rushed back to Peter, still strapped in the chair, and whipped off his tape gag.
Peter gulped down air in his position on the floor, finally able to breath properly.
"Peter, oh my god, oh my god. I'm so sorry. I got you into this mess, I'm such a stupid fucking idiot." Wade babbled frantically as he undid the straps on his wrists and ankles. "I'm such a stupid moron, I understand if you don't ever wanna talk to me again but I'm just so glad you're safe--"
"Wade. Wade. WADE!" Peter yelled to get his boyfriend to stop blabbering endlessly. He dragged a weary smile onto his face as he slipped out of the chair and shakily rose to his bare feet. "It's ok, it's fine, I'm fine. Stop panicking. It's not your fault. This is just what happens when you hang around with mercenaries, and that's my choice. It was a risk I was willing to take and I'm still willing. OK? So stop blabbering and get over here. I really need a hug." The lad's eyes watered.
Wade rushed to the brown-haired lad and scooped him into a big hug, one that Peter melted into like butter after his torturous ordeal. Wade's embrace was warm and soft against his cold bare chest. They stayed like that for minutes, Wade whispering 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' over and over again softly.
Peter pulled away at the quiet whimpering of Akoi sprawled a few feet away. He glanced around at the carnage Deadpool had caused, the cooling bodies splayed around the place. "Jeez, Wade. You...remind me not to get on your bad side."
"Never. You never will be. Ever. No matter what. That reminds me." Wade strode over to the mewling Akoi and loomed over him. Blood was pooling stickily below him as his numerous wounds oozed gently. "This is what happens when you fuck with the people I love. See you in Hell, you bastard." He cocked the gun and aimed at his head but Peter leapt to his side and grabbed his arm, stalling him from pulling the trigger.
"Please, Wade. Don't. Hasn't there been enough death today? H-he's learned his lesson. Can't we let him go?" His voice wavered on the last sentence. Even now, even after being tortured ruthlessly by the man on the floor Peter Parker found it within himself to offer forgiveness, to try to fight for a life that cared nothing for his. Wade hoped Peter never lost that light inside him, but Wade had lost his years ago.
"Peter..." Wade began, and he was nearly swayed by the pleading look on Peter's face, the conflicted determnination in his eyes. But then he looked at the fresh bruises and savage swelling that plagued that innocent face, his agonised screams still ringing in his ears, and Wade knew he couldn't let Akoi live. "I'm sorry. He crossed a line when he hurt you to hurt me. I have to do this. But I don't want you to watch. Go wait outside. Please."
"Wade..." Peter began, but the look on his boyfriend's face would brook no other outcome.
Peter sighed, looked away, and traipsed outside, mindful of any sharp debris underfoot. He tried to pretend the loud bang that followed was a door slamming. He knew it wasn't.
A minute later Wade came out, no gun in sight, keys dangling in his hand. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
But Peter shook his head. "Nothing's broken. I just wanna go home." His voice was wavering and his body felt weak now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He just wanted his bed.
"Ok." Wade said, laying an arm across Peter's shoulder and guiding them towards one of the gang's cars in the parking lot. "Let's get you home."
-
"Hey, Peter." May said happily from the kitchen as he came in the front door, his hood up to try and hide his face. "How was Ned's."
"Hey. Yeah, er, it was good." He walked towards his room, trying his hardest to act natural, but May smelled that something was up the way parents always did.
"Peter?" She said, her tone inquisitive and firm. It said look at me.
The young man stopped in his doorway, sighing deeply. Reluctantly Peter looked at his aunt across the kitchen, not quite able to keep eye contact.
Shock, then concern, then anger washed over her face, each vying for top position. She rushed over with a speed rivaling that of certain other superheros. "Peter?" The emotion in her voice crumbled any resolve Peter might have had. "Peter what happened? Who did this to you?" She pulled his hood back gently and forced him to look at her so she could get a good look at the enormous purple bruises that mottled his face, as well as his swollen eye. "Peter?" She gripped his arms firmly and pulled at him gently, willing him to answer her.
"It's nothing. I got jumped on the way back from Ned's. That's it." He tried to shrug it off and head into his room.
"Don't lie to me, Peter. Please." Her voice cracked and her eyes glistened as she looked at him.
"I got jumped." Peter said again, his voice devoid of any emotion.
"I'll kill whoever did this to you, Peter. I'll fucking kill them!" She swept away for a few seconds and came back holding a baseball bat, murderous intent glowing in her eyes.
"May, please." His legs suddenly felt weak and he crumpled backwards onto his bed.
"Who did this to you, baby? Please, tell me."
"May," He started, but he couldn't even finish because by then the tears started flowing and his throat started burning and his nose started running and he couldn't stop it. It was like a dam breaking. He was fruitlessly holding back a big sob when May let the bat slip from her fingers and rushed over to him, sitting on the bed and drawing him into a big warm hug.
"It's ok, baby. It's ok. You're safe now. I'm here." She breathed into his hair as he bawled beneath her, tucked into her warm chest, all the pent up frustrations of the day bursting out of him. She laid his head in her lap like they did when he was a kid, and stroked his hair as he sobbed with shuddering breaths. "Shhh. It's ok, sweetheart, it's ok. I'm here." She would stay like this forever if he needed her to, making him feel safe. She would do anything for him. For her Peter. "Everything's gonna be ok."