Which words can you trust once honesty is broken
Peter’s head was pounding. It felt as if he was hit by a truck at full speed. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes before assessing his surroundings. He was in a dingy warehouse, the ceiling was leaking dirty water. There was black mould everywhere and the place stunk.
He was tied up to a pillar with multiple ropes and belts. He wearing his mask although it was pulled up to his nose, most likely so that he could breathe while he was unconscious.
The memories of what had happened were flooding back to him now. The utter betrayal that Peter had felt as Wade had revealed that he was planning the sabotage the entire time. The hurt and shock he felt when Wade pulled the gun he had ordered to use against him up and shot.
Peter looked down at himself. He was still wearing the suit, though it was only covering his legs. The top half was pulled off and his wound was bandaged. The whole situation suddenly became a lot more confusing.
What was Wade planning on doing?
He looked around for anything that he could use to free himself before noticing the web-shooters on the table across the room. He groaned in annoyance and began fiddling with the rope and belts.
Wade opened the door and Peter jumped in surprise. His spider-sense wasn`t working, and that could either be the effects of the gun or that Wade didn`t plan on hurting him. He hoped for the latter, though the first was more logical. He had always had a way around Peter’s spider-sense, which infuriated him. However, when the mercenary was really out for blood, the sense would know.
Deadpool was wearing regular civilian clothes, though he was still covered up with a mask. He looked at Peter with a stupidly surprised expression when he realised the hero was awake, but it swiftly became a sweet grin. He walked over and put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. He attempted to shrug it off but pain shot from his side throughout his body. And he tensed at the sharp pain.
“I really wouldn’t move too much Spidey. That shot you got was designed to hurt you the more you struggle.” The tone in his voice showed no sign of remorse and that stung.
“Wade. I trusted you.” Peter tried to keep his voice steady although his heart betrayed him and there was no hiding the pained cracks.
Wade hesitated, rethinking his decisions hopefully. Peter wished Wade’s mask was off so he could see how he really felt. So the mercenary couldn’t hide behind the comical leather and would have to face what he was doing with full honesty.
Wade walked over to a fridge in the corner of the warehouse. He doubted it still got electricity from this completely run-down building. The position of the fridge required Peter to strain his neck to see, which sent aggressive pain shooting throughout his body. Wade chuckled a tad hearing the strained grunts coming from his prisoner. He reached for the weapon he had ordered and guided it up to Peter’s neck.
“You aren’t going to give me an evil villain's monologue about how this’ll kill me so you can take over the world?” Peter grunted, fiddling with his constraints behind his back.
“I suppose I should. The readers most likely want to know my motive after all,” Wade hummed. “You spoke to me once about how you wish that one day you could just run from your Spider-Man duties and become a normal person again.”
Peter stole a glance at Wade, who was pacing around in front of him like an evil mastermind in a superhero film. Arms flailing and theatrics bumped up to 100.
“I wanted to grant you that. After all Baby boy, you do so much for this city and still have people like J. Jonah on your case all the time,” Deadpool paused and turned to Peter again. He stared at him for a while before walking up closer. “At first I had just considered killing John Senior, however, I felt like if the people of New York City can’t see you as who you are and there are people in universities willing to help a mercenary create a device to bring you down, they don’t deserve you. Peter, you should live a life where they will respect you.”
Peter shot up in surprise at his name. It seems as though Wade had looked under his mask. That had shot any lasting hope in his ex-hero-partner, ex-friend. He had no trust left. Peter had only been half listening to the ranting, though the offer does sound quite relaxing. Less stressful.
He could never give up the Spider-Man gig if he had the powers. With great power comes great responsibility, and that power means saving all those he can. But if Peter had no power left how could he have any responsibilities left? Of course, he knew the thought itself was selfish but what exactly was he meant to do here? He had been fiddling with the constraints but they weren’t budging. He couldn’t struggle otherwise sharp pain would shoot through his body and eventually immobilise him, and his powers were most likely still hindered by the initial bullet.
“Peter?”
“Yep. I didn’t look under your mask Petey boy, promise! But it is kind of hard to miss a cutie following me around while making my shady deals. Don’t worry though I completely missed you the first time you eavesdropped in.”
Peter scoffed and looked away. Wade was getting on his nerves. This is the worst near-death or near-end-of-Spider-Man situation ever. It’s not because of the circumstances, it’s purely because he let himself believe he liked this man: possibly even more.
He let himself get carried away with his feelings and trusted someone who shouldn’t have been trusted. Now his superhero career is under strife and he can’t do anything about it. All because he let himself fall in love with someone he should’ve known would betray him.
What has he come to if he allowed himself to be swayed by a liar, and an obvious one at that. Pathetic and selfish. He should struggle against Wade, for the good of the city. Though he can’t bring himself to.
He lets himself go limp. He closes his eyes and braces for the sting of the weapon about to penetrate his skin. He couldn’t even hide the acceptance that filled his mind. He was being selfish and he knew it, but being Spider-Man was such hard work.
What was New York without Spider-Man? It would still be New York, just without a spider problem.
There would inevitably be another hero to come in the future. It wasn’t like Peter hadn’t quit before. Besides with the amount of new heroes that continuously pop-up, it’s not like there won’t be anyone to replace him.
Everybody retires eventually. If they don’t, they die. Peter prefers the idea of retiring and living a normal life over dying in a fight.
Wade seemed to have noticed the surrender and pushed the weapon into Peter’s neck. He instantly felt a hot sensation around the area. He felt increasingly less powerful and weak. It was as if he was drained of all the energy he had been storing.
Now that the substance swirled around beneath his skin he regretted his defeat. He should’ve put up more of a fight. For New York, and for Ben and May. Peter felt like he never used his powers to their full potential. He could never save everyone, maybe he would’ve been able to. Not anymore.
This was it for Spider-Man and Peter had willingly given it up. Wade lifted Peter’s chin with his finger.
“How’d you feel, Baby Boy?”
Peter closed his eyes tiredly. He dropped his head at the energy draining from him. The super strength and power seeping out through his skin and evaporating in the air.
“Guilty.” He sighed in response. It was quiet, all he could muster.
Wade hummed in acknowledgment. As if he understood how Peter could be feeling.
“Now that you are normal-boy-Peter instead of strange-aracnid-man. What would you like to do? Should I take care of you, dear?” Wade said in a quiet sing-song tune as he carefully began releasing Peter from his constraints.
Peter felt weak, and strangely content. He was usually independent and sure of taking care of himself so that others wouldn’t have to worry about him. Though he couldn’t care less at this moment. He felt light headed from the escaping power and just grunted in an overly tired way to indicate he wanted to be put to bed.
Wade did so as soon as Peter was set free from his restraints. He soon drifted off into a soft slumber, ready for the regular life he had selfishly provided himself.