The first time Peter and Wade had come into contact with an Omega on the drug had been an absolute shit show. Not that it was a perfect situation before they got there, and Not that they hadn’t gotten the Omega out safely, but the two of them? An absolute mess by the end of the night.
They’d both been working to track down the location of one of the ‘whore houses’, each in their own way. Wade’s way was a bit more violent, to be fair, but their collective efforts eventually yielded an address. They’d planned the whole thing out, or rather, Peter planned it out and forced Wade to listen so they were on the same page.
Peter was crouched next to Wade on the top of a building a block or so away, mentally preparing for what they were about to do. The plan was as follows:
Break in. Immobilize as many evil guys as possible. Get as many Omegas out. Find information about other locations. Get out alive.
Easy enough, in plan it was not so different from any other mission. Peter was mentally preparing for what he was going to see. Omegas, naked and bruised, drugged, tortured, disassociating from any number of unimaginable experiences. Peter had seen difficult things before, but never exactly this. Honestly, even if he had, he didn’t think it would change anything. Every time was like the first time when it came to things like this. Every time was the first time with dead bodies, and this would be no different.
Peter couldn’t get a read on Wade. He seemed jittery, bouncing on his toes and talking a mile a minute, but that was also just how Wade operated sometimes.
“You ready Spidey?” Wade asked, continuing to bounce around
“No,” He sighed, “But let’s go.”
“Hey,” Wade said, pausing his vibrating to place a hand on Peter's shoulder, “I’ve got you. You’ve got me. This is fucked up, and we’re going to try and fix it. Even just a little.”
Peter nodded, not meeting the masked man's face. It never felt like enough, Wade knew that.
He crouched, taking a deep inhale before vaulting off the roof. He swung down to the side of the building silently, crawling till he reached the window he’d decided was the best point of entry. He would sneak in here and try to get as many Omegas out as he could. Wade would go through the front door, as loudly and disruptively as possible. It suited both their strengths quite nicely.
Peter slid the window open as quietly as he could. It was completely blacked out from the inside. He crawled in, looking around the dimly lit room. There was a body, curled on the floor, and no one else.
He padded softly over to the body, looking for signs of life. He saw shallow, uneven breath in the chest underneath a blanket of bruises.
“Hey,” he said softly, and the body beneath his shifted.
“No- please-” The person Peter now recognized as a young, female Omega began to plead with him. She drew her arms around herself, shrinking away from him.
“No, no no, I’m going to get you out. Can you let me get you out?” He asked, hesitating to touch her till she was ready. This needed to be quiet, but it also needed to be quick.
This was how he moved from room to room. He would enter silently, web up and shut up any creeps in the room, and approach the Omegas as gently as possible. Some were chained or tied up, caged, or otherwise trapped. Some of them were passed out. He would hold them gently, as gently as he could, and get them out of the building one by one. There couldn’t have been more than six of them that he found- not the largest operation, he was sure.
He wrapped their naked bodies in anything he could find- blankets, sheets, large fur coats. He deposited them a few blocks away in a small abandoned room they’d converted into a bare-bones safe house, returning in seconds. He promised to return if they couldn’t walk and asked the ones who could to watch over the ones that stayed unconscious even as he picked up their body.
It wasn’t the best, but it was what they could do.
As he was doing his best to be silent, he heard Wade making the most of his entrance. The gunshots were immediate, as were the yelling and screaming. Once Peter had cleared the floor he entered on, he moved up. There was only one more floor above him.
He crawled up the walls instead of taking the stairs, lest they be creaky in any capacity. He pushed open the door with one hand from his perch on the ceiling, letting it fall open on its own. He heard no exclamation, not a shuffle of footsteps or cocking of a gun. He dropped down from the ceiling, on one hand, his feet quietly finding the ground beneath him. The room was bathed in black light, with rows of shelves containing little glass jars with different substances in them.
He picked one up in his hand, turning it over. It was a misty, nearly clear liquid, with no label. Sketchy as fuck, and based on what Wade had told him particularly dangerous to him as an Omega. His spider sense rippled down his spine, and he was back on the ceiling in less than a second.
He turned towards the shelf at the end of the room. It wasn’t fully against the wall, and he’d heard a noise come from behind it. He crawled along the ceiling slowly, peering over the edge. He saw the edges of a glass wall appear as he got closer. It had been invisible from the door.
His breath caught in his throat. He dropped to the floor again. He pushed the shelf to the side. Behind a wall of glass was the woman from two weeks ago, whom he’d rescued at the warehouse and given to the police.
***
It had been so easy. He’d waltzed up, talked as much bullshit as he could, as loud as he could, and was met with a lot of guns and blood in return. He’d chopped off hands with katanas, kicked dicks, and taken bullets through the hand. Absolutely everyone was on him, and that was fine because it meant they weren’t on Peter. He made sure none of them had the faculties to do anything other than lie in their own pain, much less run up the stairs to the second floor where Peter was.
It helped that he thought it was fun like this, too.
He made quick work of the first floor and heard nothing from above. Good. That meant Peter was handling things, undetected. He opened all doors on the first floor, finding most of them empty or disgusting. He was looking for the stairs to the second floor when he found a set going down.
A basement? Hmm.
Can’t risk that there’s anyone down there who might A) fuck them up or B) need rescuing princess style. He hopped down the stairs loudly, expecting to be met with more gunfire. He was not. The basement was one room, rather large, and appeared to be a dungeon of some kind. Wade wasn’t sure what the upstairs rooms looked like, but this place was immaculate. High-end bondage gear, a variety of whips and floggers each with their own spot on the wall. Not a speck of dust to be seen.
What is this, Mr. Grey's red room of pain? Wade would have chuckled to himself but he was cut off by a form shifting on the floor behind a trunk that was housing god knows what.
He drew his gun, aiming as he approached. As soon as he could see clearly over the top of the trunk, he holstered his gun. It appeared to be an Omega, chained to the ground by his neck. He was lying on the floor in an uncomfortable position. One of his arms did not look attached properly in the socket, and Wade would know. He let out a whine as he shifted, rolling his head to the side. He had welts and bruises on most of his skin, untended to cuts on his thighs. There was a sticky substance on the floor around him, dried up slick.
Wade could smell him, even from where he stood. It was a sickly, too-sweet smell. He smelled like sex, but in a way that set off every warning bell in Wade's mind. Nothing like how Peter smelled.
“Hey, don’t freak out!” Wade said softly, putting his hands up in a show of non-violence. He tried to make himself seem smaller, lowering himself down to be closer to the ground.
The Omega blinked open his eyes like his lids weighed fifty pounds each. His pupils rolled around in a drunk manner before landing on Wade.
“Carson?” The Omega mumbled, moving to sit up. He used his dislocated arm to do so, not so much as flinching as he did. It was horrific to see, his attempt to lean on the unsteady limb.
“No, hey, don’t do that,” Wade said, reaching forward to help the Omega up. The smell of him hit Wade like a brick wall as he moved forward to stop his movement. Wade had smelled an Omega in heat before. It was like comparing a wood fire to a gasoline one. You could smell the chemicals in it, how toxic and unnatural it was. Wade's body confusedly responded a mixture of wanting to move closer and cringe away.
“Carson, please,” The Omega moaned, reaching for Wade. Wade gingerly tried to stop the Omega from falling, while also examining the collar around his neck. It wasn’t immediately obvious to Wade how it was supposed to be removed. Fuck. The Omega draped himself over Wade, and it felt like he’d never smelled anything else. It seeped into his pores, the arousal of the Omega in front of him. He felt nauseous, disgusted in his body for feeling anything about this.
The Omega ran his hands along Wade’s arms, and tried to kiss Wade through his mask. Wade pushed him away as gently as he could, not wanting to inflict any more damage.
“Please, please, please,” the Omega pleaded to him, clutching onto Wade, “Please, I want you so bad, please, why won’t you fuck me?”
Wade felt bile rising in his throat.
He drew his gun, firing at the link where the chain connected to the ground. The Omega didn't stop begging, even when the gun fired. His ears had to be ringing, but he just reached for Wade, baring his neck and drooling.
Wade couldn’t look at him as he wrapped the Omega in a blanket tight enough that he couldn’t move his arms.
“Can you be quiet for me?” He said, hating himself for asking even though he knew it was for the best.
“Anything,” said the Omega, “for you. Anything for you.”
***
The woman from before was strapped to a chair. There was a man across from her, typing something into an iPad.
“Ah, I see you found one of my labs,” the man said, not turning to Peter as he addressed him. “What do you think, Spiderman?”
“I think it’s a little on the nose,” He quipped back, looking at the woman in the chair.
“Hmm,” The man replied, turning to face Peter, “Maybe you’ll feel differently after this demonstration. I promise we’re working on things no one has ever done before. Nothing cliche about that, is there?”
It was Quinten Beck himself. How odd that he was actually here, Peter thought. They’d had this place down as a storage place only, not a real base of any kind.
“Doubt it,” Peter said, frantically looking for a way to reach the woman. He stayed calm outwardly but wracked his brain for a plan. The glass between them looked thick, he wasn’t sure if he could break it. There didn’t appear to be a door, which was further confusing.
“Might as well not bother,” he said “You can show me later”
“Nice try,” Beck said, returning his attention to the iPad. He clicked a button and looked over at the woman in the chair expectantly. The gas mask she was wearing started to fill with a green mist. Had she always been wearing that? She started to thrash around, and Peter gave the glass a futile punch. It didn’t even crack. Why hadn’t Peter noticed the mask earlier?
“Enjoy, Spiderman,” Beck said before flickering away. Flickering? Peter did a double take, as the whole scene before him fragmented away. The woman in the chair, gone. The glass wall, gone. In its place was the solid white wall he thought he’d seen when he first entered. He blinked rapidly, backing away from the end of the room. He stumbled, bumping into, what? One of the shelves. A handful of the glass jars fell to the ground, thankfully not shattering.
The air smelled weird. Did it? Maybe. Maybe this was always how it smelled. He held his breath, sprinting back to the stairs as fast as he could. He didn’t bother walking down them, he just vaulted to the floor at the bottom. He rounded the corner fast, finding the nearest room and window and jumping out of it. He took in a deep gulp of air, but it didn’t settle his nerves.
Or, actually, it did. He took another breath and felt incredibly settled. He felt like his heartbeat was actually slower than usual, deep and thumping in his ears.
Wade called to him from the ground, and he swung down to meet him. Wade appeared to be carrying an Omega wrapped up tightly in a bedsheet. Peter intended to land smoothly, but stumbled a bit when his feet landed on the ground. It felt like the ground found him sooner than he thought it would. He felt warm, but maybe that was just the running and swinging and fighting.
“Are you okay Webs?” Wade asked, looking like he’d rather be holding Peter than the Omega in the blanket.
“I don’t- yea, I’m-I’m not sure- But probably I’m fine” Peter put a hand to his temple, suddenly hit with a wicked headrush.
“Probably you’re not,” Wade said, sounding like he was a million miles away. Even halfway across the world, he sounded handsome, Peter thought.
“Let's get to the safehouse and call other people to deal with these guys, okay?” Wade said, nodding to the left, “Can you do that?”
“Yea, yea. Good plan.” Peter said, shooting a web to the top of the nearest building. He lifted himself first, using the momentum to hoist Wade and the Omega behind him. It wasn’t a far trip, and with his super strength, it wasn’t physically taxing. Or rather, it shouldn’t have been. When they arrived at the makeshift safe house, Peter was covered in sweat.
He deposited Wade and the Omega in the room, collapsing onto all fours after he did so. He panted, his head feeling like a bowling ball on his shoulders. He barely registered anyone around him. God, why was it so fucking hot in here? I needed to take his suit off. Wait, bad idea. Why? He couldn’t remember why.
He wiggled a hand under his mask, moving to pull it off when a large hand caught his wrist and prevented him. It was Wade. Peter knew because he’d smelled him as soon as he’d re-entered the room, and his head swam with the smell now that Wade was directly next to him. He smelled like blood, gunpowder, and something else rich and deep that Peter didn’t have a name for. It didn’t matter, he just knew it was the most amazing thing he’d ever smelled and he wanted to lick it all off Wade's skin. He felt something tighten in his gut, a hot coil of a cramp, uncomfortable and familiar.
“I think-” he swallowed, his mouth feeling dry, “Wade I think we need to leave”