Chapter 1
"You deserve to be miserable and forgotten! Thanks to you everyone that ever cared about you is dead. May died because of you. Ben got shot because of you. Mr Stark sacrificed himself because of you. Everything you touch you destroy and everyone you love leaves."
Peter shot up in a sweat. His heart beat felt higher than a normal human being would have been able to survive. Although he got used to the nightmares they shook him awake every night. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he snatched his blanket away from himself revealing jeans that could have used a wash as well as a crusty shirt displaying the periodic table.
Ignoring the fact that he apparentally accidentally had fallen asleep again he threw himself out of bed. Searching for anything to focus on in a panic, the brunett's eyes finally landed on the alarm clock on his old nightstand on the edge of breaking:
2:00 AM.
He would have to get up to his work at the daily bugle at 6:00 AM. For whatever reason Jameson wanted to see Peter so early once again. Assumingly to complain about some nonsense again. You could call the juggling of jobs on photography, pizze delivery and the occasional life saving while barely covering the bills an experiment on mental capacity.
The man brushed his fingers against his face and let his head fall back. His eyes wandered towards the red and blue suit, letting out a forceful sigh.
There was no way he would fall asleep tonight so why not be useful and patrol the streets of New York he finally concluded.
~~~
Peter stopped visiting MJ a while ago. If you can even call it visiting. Every time he stood in front of the barista he found himself unable to recall any of the countless phrases he had prepared beforehand but "a hot chocolate please." While nipping on the steaming beverage the hero occasionally glanced over at his friend thinking about the promise he gave Ned and MJ before he vanished from their memories: "I will come and find you," he ensured them.
But Peter Parker doesn't call himself the epitome of empty promises for nothing.
MJ seemed much happier without the burden of Spider-Man in the back of her mind.
He knew, or atleast convinced himself, other people's lifes would be better without him in them. Somewhere he used to store the believe that it wasn't completely true. Yet watching MJ that carefree from afar he realised that he was indeed the burden his nightmares kept telling him.
And so he remained a stranger to Michelle Jones.
Peter became a hollow shell. Only doing the minimum of what keeps him afloat. Staying out of people's lifes and memories turned out to be his best decision yet. Noone worried about the constant danger he put himself under nor could anyone bother him with suggesting to help him out of his unpleasant financial situation. He really didn't need that pity.
He was on his own and that was fine.
Noone cared about him which was not so fine. But he managed. Peter Parker always has to manage.
~~~
The patrol was nothing unusual. He saved an elderly woman's wallet from some thief, got a kitten down a tree and webbed two shop lifters together. Really just your typical night. New York does indeed never sleep.
After an hour of no crime anywhere nearby the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man almost considered going back to his place to catch a break.
That thought quickly got shattered by a deafening shot a few blocks away.
After groaning about the use of guns he swung himself across the surprisingly lively street towards the origin of the fight.
According to what sounded like a rain of bullets Spider-Man prepared himself for an unpleasant fixture of wounds after the battle. One more tight left swing around a corner revealed a trail of blood leading to some alley. Now what could have possibly caused this mess.
To his surprise he found one singular man surrounded by what he can only call a blood bath.
The man was heavily armed with multiple guns and two katanas on his back. Possibly a mutant he theorised.
Spider-Man knew that this guy was the complete opposite of his moral compass instantly. One thing they definitely had in common was a high skill in combat. This was going to be a difficult duell.
The hero went through innumerable strategies before his spider sense gave him shivers.
In a swift motion did the man in red and black tuck the used gun back into his belt.
He turned around and his gaze landed on Spider-Man. The eyes of his mask were entirely white yet they appeared to smile upon recognizing the hero.
Spider-Man tilted his head at what he could only assume to be some kind of lunatic. The weirdly friendly body language of the murderer in front of him put his spider sense at ease, still he did not dare letting his guard down reminding himself of the corpses behind the psycho.
Finally the man covered in blood began to speak in a high pitched voice: "Oh my-, is this for real?"
He flapped his hands while jumping up and down on his toes: "I fucking love you Spider-Man! I'm like your biggest fan. Could you-." He proceeded to slide out one of his katanas: "Could you sign this?"
"Whoa!" Spider-Man instantly backed off at the gesture waving his hands infront of his chest: "Maybe explain this whole mess first," he gestured towards the several dead bodies.
Peter used to be quite sensitive towards anything dead but the so called Infinity War and the aftermath dulled him drastically.
The lunatic turned around as if he had forgotten what just had happened.
"Oh, I'm so sorry Spider-Man, I really didn't imagine our first meeting to go like this," he comedically scratched the back of his head.
"I'm telling you, these were some pretty bad guys so it's totally justifiable. Deadpool never kills innocent people."
Spider-Man crossed his arms and let himself relax slightly considering his spider sense evaluates the man to simply be some kind of anti hero and no active danger to Peter: "Deadpool?"
"The one and only," Deadpool put his palms against his hips.
Spider-Man squinted his eyes.
"Wait..." Deadpool exaggerated a hurt expression, "you don't know me?"
Spider-Man shook his head in slow motion.
The two masked men looked at each other for a few seconds in silence until Spider-Man raised his hand in a quick motion to fire a web towards his opponent pinning him against the brick wall:
"This has been fun and all but killing is still illegal you know," the hero teases.
Deadpool rolled his eyes while giggling as Spider-Man drew a sticky note as well as a pen out of a pocket of his suit and began writing his usual note for the police.
"What a dream! Spidey nails me against a wall and then gives me his number."
Spider-Man looked up from his writing: "Excuse me?"
Spider-Man evaluated this mass murder as his final straw for that night. He may got used to death but he in no way is immune.
There was no need to check if any of the victims were still breathing.
Whatever Deadpool's job was, he did it perfectly.
As the hero heads out the alley he heared a soft, almost teasing, "Bye, Spideybabe~" behind him.
Half-heartedly Spider-Man waved his hand without turning around.
He swang on top of a nearby building and threw one last gaze towards where he came from.
And there sure stood the blood bathed maniac in all his glory. Peter couldn't claim to be surprised the guy managed to escape in a jiffy. He also couldn't help but smile slightly at Deadpool wiggling his fingers at him upon spotting the hero.
Spider-Man probably should go back after him to get him locked up but Peter told himself he was too tired to prevent any additional murder spree, not wanting to admit he possibly enjoyed the guys company.
The second Peter sprung through a previously opened window into his apartment, he landed on his chair and rolled in front of his computer while ripping his mask off.
With only a few clicks he had a tab containing all the public knowledge about Deadpool laid out in front of him.
Which was a lot. An unusual lot for someone wearing a mask.
Although the name "Wade Wilson" was plastered on everything there wasn't any footage of his face. What a strange secret identity, he thought.
Apparentally the guy was a mercenary with a killing count assumed to be in the high hundreds. Not something Peter was particularly in agreement with but the internet could only confirm he did indeed go after bad people only.
That was atleast some relief for the passive guilt he had felt since he left Deadpool roam around freely.
Then Peter spotted the keyword "mutant."
He was quite curious what Deadpool's mutation could be, if he had any, as he didn't remember him using it back in the alley.
And down the rabbit hole he went.
Deadpool took part in some experiment about purposefully causing mutations which labs he then destroyed, Peter recaps. Now they had alliteration and an unnatural mutation in common. That was something.
Peter flew over the article of the experiment. He really didn't need to know about the details of the apparent torture methods. He only caught a glimpse of what happened in those labs and already wondered how Deadpool could still be able to joke around the way he did.
Probably insanity.
The text only kept adding up revealing Deadpool lost his then fiancé Vanessa to murder. How on earth is this guy even alive?
And then his eyes stopped at one word. A word that really shouldn't have such an impact on him the way his heart skipped a beat and one too many breaths not taken.
"Immortality"
The article further read something along the lines of: Such a fast healing factor even after "death" that it could be called immortality.
Well atleast the insanity theory checks out.
Peter turned off the computer after deciding that was enough poking around.
He glanced out the window observing the city's lights wondering if Deadpool was wandering around somewhere out there just as lonely as him.
A quick peep at his alarm clock told him he had half an hour of finding "his biggest fan" until the meeting with Jameson.
His eyes wandered from the flickering clock to his mask
This will definitely shoot him in the back.