“Holy banana pancakes Peter !” Deadpool exclaimed. He had taken his mask off after it had been soaked in his blood and was sporting a huge grin on his face. “You gotta drive more often baby boy. This is fuuuu-” He elongated the ’u’ when Peter took another sharp turn. He banged his head on the window. Served him right, he should have fastened his seatbelt. “-uun.” He finished. “This is so cool, I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster, but for free. You should sell your services baby boy !” Peter grimaced, that sentence could have been much worse with no context. “Just imagine if this car was a Honda Odyssey…” Wade sighed dreamily. Peter did not ask why that car specifically.
The teen was currently holding on for dear life, eyes straight ahead on the road. He was pressing on the pedal hard, far above the speed limit. His hands were stress sticking to the steering wheel, which made it difficult to take sharp turns and meant he ended up half on the road, half on the pavement all the time. Peter hadn’t run into anyone just yet, and wasn’t going to tempt his luck.
“You better be kidding Wade, I swear to-” Matt cut himself with a shriek, muttering a prayer. The man sounded like he was going to die. Peter shared the sentiment. “Fuck Peter turn right !” Matt exclaimed from the passenger seat, hands flaying to the grab handle.
Peter looked on the right side of the street, panicked at the lack of a road. “What right ?!” Peter almost shouted. There were only buildings. No roads. He could not turn right. “There’s nothing there Matt, what the heck !”
“Matty, you're getting old. Poor little bat, can’t even tell the difference between a road and a house.” Wade cackled, sprawled across the back seat. “Maybe we should ask Batman for help ? He could help you fit the theme better." He said. “Batdevil.” He snickered.
“Fuck you Wade.” Matt gritted through tight lips.
Peter sped up, running the red light before the intersection, granting him a loud curse and a honking from the truck on his left. That was close. He turned left, ignoring another red light, stumbling with the steering wheels as he turned it more than was necessary. Matt’s knuckles were turning white on the handle. In the rearview mirror, Peter could see the car behind taking the same turn way more graciously. “Guys focus ! Wade, you're not helping, dammit.” Peter cut through the flying insult he could feel coming from the red vigilante next to him. “You’re the only one who can guide me, so be focused. Please.” Peter’s sanity was close to snapping. He felt like he was in a Fast and Furious scene.
“Yay Wonder Boy ! At your command.” Wade raised his phone to his face, squinting at the screen. Seeing his face across the rearview mirror, Peter snorted. He would have made a blind joke were they not currently driving -illegally for so many reasons- away from some well armed thugs, and if Matt wasn’t sitting right next to him. Alas, all of this was happening and Peter was taught to be polite. “It says you should turn left at the next corner, then take the second exit of the roundabout and- Is that a tacos truck?” Wade squealed.
“Wade-” Peter tried to put him back on track, getting honked after cutting another driver’s priority. How did Deadpool even make those sounds ?
“Buckle up boys, I found our well deserved dinner ! We deserve this for what the author is putting us through.” Wade cheerfully exclaimed, winking to the empty air.
“We are not putting civilians in danger just because you are a walking stomach.” Daredevil snarled. “We have armed guys right behind us, and I don’t think they’ll stop trying to fucking shoot us just because we’re ordering tacos.” Matt huffed, tensing just as a bullet went flying next to his window. They were lucky the guys behind seemed to have no aim.
“You should have said it sooner !” the mercenary cracked up. A sadistic smile twisted his lips as he lifted guns in both hands. Peter had no idea where those were coming from and he did not want to know. Deadpool opened a window, popping his head outside, like a dog. He started shooting behind the car, screaming profanities. “Take that you motherfucking goblin noodles ! They could cast me for American Sniper while you’ll be sad stormtroopers !” He got back inside the car, turning to the two guys at the front. “It’s amazing how many stormtroopers they have in their army of bad guys and yet no good guys ever get hit.” He went back to the window, continuing shooting and screaming insults.
Peter turned up left as stated before with a sigh, wondering just how much they could have screwed up to end up in this situation. He might have driven a bit too close to the wall, with the sound the rearview mirror made. He turned to look and- nevermind, there was no rearview mirror anymore. The street he turned in was a bit thinner than the previous one, which could be dangerous with civilians and stray bullets.
So technically, Spiderman was very much aware of how they found themselves driving a stolen car (the car had probably already been stolen before they took it, Matt had pointed out, so it was fine, Peter reassured himself) away from not-so-happy goons with -way too many- weapons.
¤¤¤
Peter had been following a trail from Manhattan for a few weeks now (technically it was Clint’s trail, but the guy had asked Spiderman to cover that part of Manhattan for him while he was away with the Avengers. Peter wondered why he didn’t just ask Kate) which consisted of the dealing of really weird chemicals. From what Peter had seen one night, it was some blue-green-purple liquid, completely filling the glass. It moved like water, but also reminded the teen of those lava lamps. Peter had thought it looked pretty cool, and the scientist in him had been dying to get his hands on one bottle, wondering what the chemical could do. He was answered when one of the goons dropped the glass on his foot, breaking it and releasing the liquid inside into a puddle. His shoe started to dissolve at the contact and fire appeared at the edges of the puddle. Slowly, like in a slow-motion scene in a movie, but still rapidly enough no one could react in time, the chemicals reached the guy’s foot and Peter could only stare, disgusted (and hella curious, but Peter preferred to ignore that part), as the flesh burnt away, quickly followed by the muscles and the bones underneath, until there was nothing left. Distantly, as chaos broke inside the warehouse, Peter thought it was curious the chemicals did not start attacking the guy’s leg. Maybe it could not go up. It was probably made of hydrochloric acid and some really strong catalyst if it reached through flesh and bones so fast, although he could not pinpoint what could cause the fire only on the edges. He had been so engrossed in the display that he had completely drowned out the sound of the screams, until the victim was moved out of his view and Peter came back to himself, trying not to think of his revulsing train of thoughts.
However, a few days later, Peter was stuck in Queens, unable to go back to the warehouse (he was disappointed, but again, Peter was trying to shove the feeling very far away. He should not be feeling disappointed just because he couldn't observe some weird solution that could completely melt someone in a few minutes (he couldn’t stop himself from computing the time for the chemicals to dissolve a whole body) and was highly dangerous !). Anyway, the reason he was glued to Queens for the night was Green Goblin. The guy had been laying low for a few months, enough for him to slip from Peter’s mind. Which was a mistake because he had obviously been planning something, and now Peter was stuck in the middle. He really needed to learn to keep up with street talk. Matt had once told him there were always rumours going around in the lower part of cities and that’s how he usually knew if something suspicious was brewing.
The issue was, when he came back to the warehouse in Manhattan, it was empty. The chemicals were gone. A panic thought struck Spiderman, what if they knew he was there ? If they did, they would be extra careful and it would be tricky to find the new hideout (asking for help would mean explaining his beginner’s mistake which would be embarrassing). But Peter was pretty sure he had been careful, and with the whole catastrophe, no way anyone would have seen him. Why did they move it then ? Was it being shipped away ?
For a few days, Spiderman stuck to the street, listening to whispered rumors, trying to get a good lead. It took him a few tries, but he did end up collecting information on other activities. He stored them in the back of his brain, planning to warn Manhattan’s vigilantes about it later (Clint was still away, but Luke should be available).
When he finally found the chemicals again, they had been transferred to Hell’s Kitchen. The warehouse looked abandoned and scruffy, so much that Peter was ready to leave, thinking it was the wrong place. He would have, if it wasn’t for his ears picking up the sound of footsteps. Two men were walking around the entry, making no sounds. The hero realised he could not see them due to a part of the wall that was slightly more outside, casting shadows on the guarded door below. For once, he was grateful for his supersenses. He observed the place for a few hours, although no one got in or out, he could still hear many heartbeats if he focused enough, so he decided to get a closer look. Switching his webshooters to the dissolving webs (he had been working on them for months, trying to make a formula that would dissolve the instant he dropped them so that no one could tell he had been there. The teen had learnt the hard way how easy it was to track Spiderman down, between his bright colors and the web that left a trail behind him.), he aimed for the building on his right, until there was no one in sight and jumped to the wall of the warehouse. He crawled around, until he finally reached the window. Making himself as flat as possible on the wall, he looked inside. There were about thirty men, armed to the tooth, so no attack tonight, noted. Honestly they could use a trip to Ikea, the place looked as shady inside as it did outside, the paint on the wall was grey, peeling off the walls. There were traces of blood more or less old, mold, dust and web everywhere. Peter did not want to go inside. He squinted his eyes, adapting to the low light (he had made researches after he realised he had spider themed powers. Turned out, while Peter did not need glasses anymore, spiders still did not have perfect eyesight. Some species like Wolf spiders could see well in the dark, but none had night vision like a cat would.). On the furthest side of the warehouse, a few containers were stuffed against the wall. One of them was opened, and Peter could guess from the slight visible color that the chemicals were in there. He was at the right place at least.
He patted around the window for an opening. The locks were weakened with time and unused, and made it easy to open, Peter was more worried about the sound. He slowly pushed the window open, only making a weak creaking sound. No man turned around so the vigilante slid inside, sticking to the rooftop. They were talking about mundane things. Spiderman perked up at the mention of a shipment in four days, and how much they were being paid for it. They only had to stay silent.
Peter did not stick around for much longer. It was starting to be late, Queens was far and he had school the next day (or more like in a few hours). As he was swinging away, he thought about asking Team Red for help.
Matt had gladly accepted, since this was his territory and, after Peter told them about the accident, he did not want those chemicals in his city. He had looked so appalled it had stopped Peter’s scientific babbling and theories dead in his tracks. Wade had said he missed their team ups and had tried to hug them. It earned him a well-placed kick from Daredevil and Spiderman had dodged him until Wade gave up.
That was how the three of them found themselves sitting on the same rooftop Peter had been the previous night.
Daredevil was hunched over the edge. “You and I have to be careful with the chemicals Spiderman.” He said with that low Daredevil’s voice. If Peter didn’t know the man underneath the cowl was a human disaster, he would be a bit scared. “We can’t just leave them here though. Any idea of what to do with it ?”
Wade tilted his head. “It could make for some fun foreplay. I’m sure Daddyverine would love some bonding time”. He whistled.
Peter was pretty sure the last statement was literal. He ignored Wade, turning his head toward the fully red vigilante. “I was thinking of giving them to Doctor Banner ? I trust him with the chemicals.” Matt hummed, thoughtful. “I can also ask Johnny to give them to Doctor Reed.” In all honesty, Peter had hoped he would get some time with the solution before giving it away. Depending on the composition, it could be useful when breaking in soundlessly or breaking out of some binds without having to strain himself (sometimes the shards of the binds would go through the wall from the force he would use). And anyway, whoever made the liquid could do it again, and Peter wouldn’t mind knowing what he was fighting against. (Those were just excuses. Spiderman could feel the itch to split each and every single compound of the solutions. He wanted to break it down, recreate it, until every single bind of each molecule had no secret to him. The need for knowledge and understanding was urgent, he didn’t even want to use the solution, he just needed to know.)
Matt nodded, his attention still focused on the warehouse. Peter wanted to poke the man’s cheek. “I’ll trust you on that part.” His head tilted to the side. Peter zeroed his hearing on the scene inside. “They are saying something about a shipment tomorrow.” Darn it.
“They must have changed the date.” Peter sighed. They’d have to act tonight then. No waiting for a few more days.
Matt nodded again. “The warehouse has two floors.” He said. Peter knew that already, he had seen it the previous day when he came in. Technically, it wasn’t really a second floor, more like an indoor balcony. Its shadows had helped Spiderman stay hidden when he had sneaked in. Matt stood up straighter, stance ready to leap into action. He started giving instructions. “Spiderman. You’re going in like yesterday. Stick to the roof. We have to get them away from the boxes to avoid any accidents. Who knows what would happen if a stray bullet hit any container. DP and I’ll go through the lower windows and door to distract them. It will give you the time to go to the other side of the warehouse. That way, we’ll have them cornered and away from the chemicals.”
Peter hoped on his feet, aiming his wrists towards where he knew there was a window. “You got it Double D!” He said, swinging away.
“Deadpool.” Daredevil turned around, mouth in a straight line. “Did you listen to anything I said ?”
Deadpool walked over to the edge, standing next to vigilante. “Of course Daddy Horns, who do you take me for ? We’re gonna make the bad guys go Bye Bye Bye.” He grinned, doing crab gestures with his hands. Matt did not ask.
The two older men leaped forward, Deadpool landed on the floor with a loud crack, making Matt winced in sympathy. The two of them had known each other for a few years now, although most of those years consisted in Daredevil vigorously avoiding the merc. They’d been actively working together for a few months, mostly because of (more like thanks to, but Matt did not want to wonder what that meant) Peter. The lawyer had been highly displeased with a pre-teen (You’re a child Peter. You should be hanging out with your friends, talking about dating and trying to get into bars. You shouldn’t be doing this.) throwing himself in danger, somehow linked to the avengers without being linked to the avengers (I’ve been doing this for months Matt, I know what I’m doing. And anyway, if you can do the things I can do, then it’s your fault when something happened and you could have stopped it.). From then, Deadpool had just been a leech, until team Red became a thing. All to say, no matter how long it’d been, Matt could not get used to the way Wade’s bones sounded every time. The wave from the shock of his body hitting the floor, the blind man could picture the man’s skins getting split, gushing blood, how the bones just shattered, breaking muscled, blood seeping on the pavement. He could then hear the way the skin knitted itself back together, bones snapping into place. It was gruesome, but the vibrations made those moments the rare instance in which he could clearly picture someone (Wade was probably part of the few people Matt somehow saw).
Matt followed after him, gripping down the windows until he reached the ground. Deadpool was already standing back up, as if he hadn’t just smashed his left tibia, ankles and femurs on the pavement, and dislocated his right knee. Matt could hear a bone popping into place, followed by the skin sewing itself back together. Daredevil pushed the unnatural sounds to the back of his mind and walked towards the warehouse. He stayed in the shadows, rounding the place until he reached an entrance. He could pick up the almost silent steps of Deadpool behind him, meaning he was following (Matt never dwelt on it too much, but it always took him by surprise how easily Wade could just erase himself.). They stood in front of the door. Spiderman was already inside, sticking to the roof above the containers (he really was improving his stealth. Franck would be proud). Matt raised his hands, holding up three fingers. Peter tilted his head on the other side of the room. Wade reached for a katana, already holding a gun in his other hand. Daredevil steadily held down a finger. He heard Spiderman’s muscles tensed, the way a spider would before attacking his prey.
The moment he had only one finger up, Deadpool barged through the door, screaming “Plus Ultra !”, followed by a chorus of loud swearing and shooting.
Matt banged his head against the wall. He wasn’t surprised, but rather disappointed in himself for not seeing that coming. “Lord, give me strength to deal with this dumbass, or he's gonna get us killed.” He grumbled, glaring at his feet intently when Peter chuckled on the other side of the warehouse. He shouldn’t have taught the kid to sharpen his senses that much, he knew it was going to bite him in the ass.
“O-M-G ! Did you just touch my ass ?!” Wade cried out, offended. “How dare you. I’m telling Hugh !” He said, followed by a wet squelsh and a loud cry. “Do you really think I just let people touch me for free ? I'm a proud slut, bitch.” The mercenary spoke, affronted.
Daredevil barged in, billy clubs in hands. “Deadpool.” He called across the room. “No killing.” He hit a man across the head, punching another one in the face. The goon stumbled back as the vigilante reached for his arm, launching him at another goon. They fell down with a oof, insulting each other. Daredevil rolled down, avoiding a bullet. He stood back up, kicking the shooter in the chest. Without his foot touching the floor, he landed another kick across the man’s face, relishing in the broken sound his jaw made. He punched his way across the room, until he was closer to Spiderman.
The teenager flipped in the air, landing behind a thug. He grabbed his shoulders, sending the man flying at another group of men, a web sticking the heap of goons to the floor. He punched another man, following with a back kick, sending other goons tumbling down, the momentum making him turn around, facing Daredevil. The older vigilante was landing hit after hit, twisting around like some ballerina, avoiding knives and fists. Eventually, they found themselves back to back, Daredevil bending down as Spiderman webbed another man over his head. Quickly looking around, Peter realised they had already taken down about three quarters of the goons. Peter opened his mouth, ready to say how many men he had taken down-
And then Deadpool happened. Meaning the man went flying past them, yelling something along ‘To infinity and beyond !’. As he passed the two other red vigilantes, he waved although Peter was pretty sure it wasn’t at them. Like he was waving at the air.
Peter only had a few seconds to realize just where the flying merc was heading, which was toward the chemicals. Peter did not want to risk finding out if the containers were shock resistant, and without thinking (reflexes he got from catching people falling down from buildings), he shot the last of his webs at the containers, hoping it would cushion the brunt of shock.
When Peter came back to himself, a few minutes later, his intern clock provided (Peter had been amazed at how aware he was of the time), the warehouse was eerily quiet, except for a ringing Peter was pretty sure was coming from him. Spiderman took in his surroundings. He was laying on his back on the other side of the warehouse. He felt like he was underwater, his senses dulled, although he could very much feel what were three broken ribs. Maybe four. The vigilante slowly rose up on shaky arms, holding himself on the nearest wall to get up. He gritted his teeth through the pain and looked around him. It seemed everyone had been propelled by the explosion, the space where his and Daredevil were fighting was empty. All the thugs that were still standing were now knocked down on the floor, but still alive. Peter closed his eyes and sighed in relief, until he perked up at the smell of burnt flesh. He turned his head, and jolted it back as bile rose up his throat. Spiderman had to refrain from puking at the sight of Deadpool, concentrating on detaching his emotions from the situation. Blood was pooling out of the man’s waist, where his legs were clearly missing. The younger vigilante turned back and scanned the situation. It seemed the webs had absorbed the chemicals (Peter wasn’t sure if the formula for those webs would be the right one, but he had tried to find a way to make them absorbent, just in case), but the mix had still led to an explosion, launching everyone but Wade around the warehouse. The containers had been destroyed, shards of wood littered on the floor. Actually, it seemed a part big enough had got detached and the edge fell on the mercenary, cutting him in half. Peter couldn’t see behind the wood (and didn't want to) but he could guess Wade’s legs were there. He felt like throwing up again.
Deadpool had been silently, probably still groggy from the explosion, dragging himself out of the rubbles. (The teenager couldn’t help making the comparison to a horror movie character in his head. Those who are missing half of their body, still crawling away as if the killer couldn't reach them in two strides.) Spiderman turned his head towards where the man was heading, and saw Daredevil. Actually, he was staring at Matt, as the man had taken his cowl off. Peter slowly walked over, limping and using the wall as support. The lawyer was sitting, knees folded to his chest, making himself as small as possible. His body was tense, his arms around his legs. His eyes, unseeing, were darting around the room and his chest was rising up and down unnaturally fast.
Spiderman called for him (Peter knew he opened his mouth, and he could feel the air rush out, but he wasn’t sure if he was screaming or whispering. Everything still seemed muffle.), walking faster when he realised the older man couldn’t hear him. How had he not thought of this sooner ? Of course the sound of the explosion was loud enough to block his hearing. If Spiderman felt underwater, then obviously Daredevil would be rendered deaf. Matt hated when it happened. Coupled with his blindness, he becomes truly disabled, weak and dependent. (One night, after Peter had a meltdown, Matt had kept him company, quietly speaking. He had told him how he didn’t mind being blind, since he could see the world differently. But he loathed when his senses would get taken away, because it made him feel useless, like a dead weight.)
Wade and Peter had been in this situation before, faced with a blind and deaf hyperventilating Daredevil. It was complicated to calm him down since he couldn’t hear them. Spiderman reached the man before Deadpool could. He sat down in front of the lawyer, tapping a quick patter on the floor. The reverberations should warn Matt someone was there, and hopefully he would understand it was his team. The only reaction he got was the hands covered in kevlar clenching. Peter put a hand on the boot in front of him, putting no pressure. The point was to show he wasn't a threat by letting him move his foot with no resistance if he wished. When the teen got no reaction he put down his second hand. After a few seconds, he slowly lifted his hands and put them on the forearms surrounding the legs. He gently pried the hands away, until they opened. He held the man’s left hand open in his right one, tracing a slow pattern in the palm. When Matt seemed to come back to himself, Wade was lying next to Peter, his own hand on the vigilante’s boot, tapping a random rhythm. Peter drew an OK on the hand, scrutinizing every reaction he got. Matt slowly nodded, untangling himself.
“I can’t hear you yet, but sounds are coming back.” He choked out, coughing.
Peter turned to Wade. “How are you ?”
Wade rested his cheek on the floor. “I can’t feel my legs.” Peter could see him grinning. He didn’t know when the mercenary had raised up his mask so it would show his scarred mouth. “Though, if I can get up, I should be at the perfect height to give hea-”
“You’re fine, I get it.” Peter cut him off. He lowered down, crouching in front of the man. “I’m the one in the best state, I’ll carry you.” Wade fully smiled, hands reaching up. “But. No groping.” The smile died down. Peter turned around, so Wade could attach himself to his back. The teenager stood back up, holding the mercenary hands around his neck. Matt was leaning against the wall, waiting for them, mask back on.
“I don’t hear as well as usual but it’s enough.” He said. Peter nodded, before heading toward the back door. He looked sadly at the chemicals. They had burnt off with the explosion, so the young scientist couldn't take a sample. He’d have to track down the production.
They reached a parking lot. “There’s a car incoming. We should get away now.” Spiderman told the two older men.
“I can’t run just yet.” Matt answered, his head was tilted forward, trying to hear the cars.
Peter sighed. “My web shooters are empty and Wade can't walk yet.”
“We should take a car then !” Wade piped up.
Peter looked at him sideways, frowning. “And who’s gonna drive ? You don’t have legs, and Matt is already awful when he has fully functioning senses.”
“Wade is right though. It’s the fastest way out right now.” Matt spoke , walking toward a car. “This one’s open. Put Wade in the backseat, Spiderman you’re driving.” He said, opening the passenger door and sliding into the car.
“Wait what-” Peter spluttered. “Hold on Double D, you know I can’t drive !”.
Wade patted his chest. “Come one sugar plum, everyone’s gotta start somewhere.”
Peter threw open the door, putting Wade in the backseat, mumbling about bad examples. He got into the driver seat, turning the car on. “ This is very much illegal, Matt.”
Matt snickered. “Please tell me more about the law Peter. And we’re vigilantes, I don’t think it will make a big difference.”
Peter took in a deep breath, wondering why he asked for their help, and started driving. Just as they turned the corner, the two other cars arrived in the parking lot.
¤¤¤
Fast forward, and here they were.
“I’m surprised I recovered my hearing that fast anyway. The explosion seemed really loud.” Matt wondered, head title toward Peter. The teen had his eyes trained on the road and drove a bit faster to get out of the small street, already far from the speed limit. “And what happened for Wade to only have his legs cut off ?” The vigilante asked.
“Oh, it’s actually thanks to Spideykins !” Wade answered cheerfully.
“What do you mean ?” Daredevil questioned him.
“My webs took the brunt of the explosion and absorbed the chemicals.” Peter responded. “That’s why our costumes are mostly intact, the force propelled us, but no chemicals reached anyone.” He added.
“My legs divorced me because of some planks. Asshole.” Wade muttered. Matt hummed in response. “You have to understand my pain, Red Pants, it cut my dick off.” He whined. The other man simply ignored him.
“Anyway.” Peter said, heat rising to his cheeks. He’d never get used to the prude language of Wade. He turned another corner, spotting a food truck. “Tacos ?”
Wade squealed gleefully, making the two at the front flinch, their hearing still sensitive.
Peter turned the next corner before parking violently in front of a garage entry. He might have bent the garage door. He hastily turned off the car, the three of them bending down to make the car look empty. The car chasing them drove by. They waited a few more seconds before stumbling out of the car, Wade’s legs already back.
Matt turned toward the younger one, a small smile on his lips (which Peter could see only because he learnt to read Matt and to know the sign. Anyone else wouldn't be able to tell the difference with his usual Daredevil frown.) “So, where is this tacos truck ?”.
The stakeout hadn’t been completely successful, Peter thought with a mouth full of fries. Wade and Matt were bickering behind him. At least, they had destroyed the chemicals, so Peter would take it as a win. His legs dangled on the edge while he thought of the things he had to do (He was still disappointed he couldn't get a sample.) He’d text Clint in the morning to give him a summary of the mission, then Doctor Banner about the chemical. And he still had to find who created it, before the product inevitably came back to New York.