Tacos and Bloodshed
Thursday, June 5th, 2020
Queens
4:36 p.m.
'Wade still hasn't answered any of my texts...' Peter worried as the bus slowed to a stop. Exiting the bus, he switched the two grocery bags over to his left hand so he can retrieve his phone from his jacket and call him. It rang three times before he finally answered.
"Hey there, Pete... uh, what's up?" Wade sounded super upbeat and happy, like he was overcaffinated. "Where are you?"
"Just got off the bus; have a couple blocks to go before I get home. Are you okay, babe?"
"Yeah, I'm fine... just- just happy to hear you'll be home soon." Peter then heard water running and the sounds of scrubbing. He could tell Wade was up to something.
"Babe... since when do you clean when I'm not home?"
"I do clean, Pete... just come home as soon as you can. I have things under control now, but I'm gonna need some help."
"Okay, I trust you... Be home soon. Love you."
"Love you too, babe. Bye." Wade finally answered, sounding relieved as he hung up. Peter left it at that, and pocketed his phone, picking up the pace to get to their apartment. Swiping his key fob for the door, he left himself in, gave a nod to the concierge by the front desk, took the elevator to the 6th floor and made his way to room 615. Before unlocking the door, he took a deep breath and braced himself at what could be inside.
As he opened the door, the smell of bleach hit him like a wave. He put the groceries on the table next to the takeout Wade had picked up for dinner and set his keys and mask down beside them.
"Babe... I'm home," he called out, looking around for Wade, noticing that most of the lights were on and the kitchen floor and counters looked wet. He made his way to the hall closet to hang his jacket up. Retrieving his phone, he shut the door only to get startled by Wade. He was clad in his usual 'lazy day' attire of pajama pants and t-shirt, which was splattered with bleach stains and he also had a yellow pair of dish washing gloves that went up to his forearms. He was trying to keep his content facade but Peter could tell he was overwhelmed and burning up, since his face was ruddier then normal.
"Babe, what's going on?" Peter asked before Wade put his hand over his mouth.
"Shhh..." Wade glanced at the closed bedroom door. "I don't want to wake them up; I mean, I did give them a couple painkillers but I'm sure they can still hear shit."
Peter moved Wade's hand off his face, the cleaner burning his nose. "Wade, what did you do?" Wade started pacing back and forth between the living room and kitchen a couple times before he started talking.
"I headed down to El Tequilazo to pick up our dinner for tonight and there was another person waiting for food at the entrance. The doors that lead to the dining room were shut and a closed sign was on it, but I could hear that there was people inside cause I could hear talking. Well, after a few minutes the talking became yelling and point five seconds later guns were going off. We drop to the floor: me, the lady at the cash register and the person next to me. I hustled to get the cashier out of there and as I went to get the other person, the fight spilled out to where I was, so I started blasting."
"Wade! Why did you bring a gun to a restaurant?!"
"Guns, Petey-pie... given my track record, it's better for me to be carrying something other then my dick, which is intimidating for other-"
"Babe!" Pete snapped at Wade, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "Can you get to the point of this story, please?"
"Right, sorry babe. To make a long story short, those goons either had stormtrooper aim or a couple bullets went through me cause they got shot in the hip. I kind of blacked out after the last one fell, but I managed to get a few bags from the takeout window and took them and Dylan to the safety of our apartment." At this point, Wade had pulled off the rubber gloves and shirt he was wearing and sat down at the small kitchen table, head in his hands.
Peter looks at the closed bedroom door then back at Wade. "Stay right there." He gestured for Wade to stay seated, to which he agreed to silently. He then slowly crept to the door, opening it enough to see that the mattress was stripped of the bedding and someone in a hoodie and sweats was asleep on the bare mattress. Entering the room, he maneuvered his way around the crumpled sheets and bedspread, getting a closer look at the person mumbling to themselves. They looked young with dark red hair in a braid and they were pale. The sweats they were wearing looked a lot like one of the new pairs he bought for Wade, with a medium sized blood stain blooming on the right hip. He sat on the edge of the mattress and set a hand on their shoulder. "Hey," he spoke in a low voice to not startle them, giving them a nudge, "are you alright?"
They were silent for a while, but then a muffled "Wha-?" came from them as they lifted their head and opened a red rimmed eye. "Going from what Wade told me, you must be his boyfriend...hi." Their voice was lower in tone but soft, and a little sluggish.
"Hello, I'm Pete." He gave their shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting it go.
"Listen, Pete... it's kind of a long story as to why I'm here: I don't know if I comprehend how on Earth this could- I'm sorry, these painkillers are a doozy."
"It's alright, Wade filled me in on what happened... are you okay?"
They were silent for a while, but soon buried their face into the pillow. "No... is Wade still here?" they mumbled.
"Yeah, he's here; I'll get him for you." He stood up and went to the doorway. "Hey Wade, they're asking for you. Could you come in, please?" Peter went back over towards the bed when Wade entered, pulling his shirt back on. After attempting to smooth out the wrinkles he knelt next to the mattress, taking one of their hands in his.
"Hey Dylan," Wade whispered. "I'm right here. Do you want me to check your bandages?" It was only then when Peter realized that Wade knew the victim by name.
"Babe... how do you know their name?"
"Well, to keep someone's mind off the fact I'm digging bullet fragments out of their body, my usual go-to is to keep them talking about random shit."
Peter sighed, accustomed to his boyfriend's quirks. "Well, other then their name, what else did they tell you?
"They're twenty eight, pronouns are she/they, born in November, their favorite color is purple, their favorite song is The Suffering by Coheed and Cambria, their favorite sandwich is a Reuben, they mostly read true crime and mystery novels... oh, and they were living with their cousin but he kicked them out so his girlfriend can move in."
"Yep, that's basically all of it." Dylan replied, their tear streaked face looking up at them. "I probably would've been better off if one of those idiots shot me in the head." They closed their eyes tightly, sniffling as they wiped their faces with a sleeve.
"No, Dylan." Peter got off the mattress and knelt on the floor so he could look them in the eye. "Never say that about yourself. Wade clearly cares about you, since he took treating your gunshot wounds on his own instead of taking you to a hospital." Wade looked away, pretending to whistle innocently. "I care about you too, and no matter what is going on with you and your cousin right now, I'm certain that he loves you and wouldn't want to see you get hurt."
"I guess, I mean... he and Tisha were easy to get along with in the beginning, but now, whenever they get together they're either arguing or fucking. Uh, pardon my French."
"No worries, Dylan... you're in good company." Wade chuckled, giving Peter a nudge. "This one curses a blue streak when he's pissed or horny."
"Babe." Peter cut him off, before this conversation went off the rails... at least more off the rails then what it was. "Dylan, do you have anyone you can call that can help you when you feel like this?"
"I did, but since my main source of income got shut down due to the pandemic, I can't afford to schedule anything with her." Dylan tried to shift their position but stopped, cursing under their breath.
"Where did you work?" Wade was curious now, sitting on the floor
"I worked at this elementary school as a cleaner; granted scrubbing bathrooms and vaccuming glitter off of carpets is exhausting, but at least I was insured."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Dylan... the only advice I can give you is to just focus on what's going on right now. I'm going to check those bandages if you don't mind. Wade, can you get the first-aid kit?"
"Sure," Wade replied, getting up off of the floor. "Don't worry Dylan, you can trust Pete. I'll be back before you know it." He bent down to give Dylan a kiss on their forehead before heading out to get the kit from the kitchen.
"Can I lower the waistband of the sweats for you, or would you be more comfortable doing it yourself?"
Dylan winced, and carefully pulled the waistband down so Peter could see the patches of rolled cotton and medicine tape on their hip. As he cautiously peeled the tape and bloody cotton off of them, he was comforted to see Wade's stitches have gotten better. Wade returned with the first aid box and together they cleaned and redressed Dylan's wounds.
"Alright, hon: you're all set." Wade helped Dylan with readjusting their sweatpants. "We have some bottled water in the fridge if you're thirsty."
"Sure... as shallow as it sounds, it kind of sucks that my order didn't go through. They'll most likely get shut down and they had some kick ass burritos."
Peter remembered Wade talking about the takeout bags he grabbed before leaving. "Actually, I might be able to remedy that. I'll be right back." Setting his hand on the mattress, he got up off of the floor and dusted himself off before heading out of the bedroom.
Wade watched Pete go then looked at Dylan. "Um, would you be alright if I excuse myself for a few minutes? I really missed my boyfriend and I need to make out with him."
Dylan chuckled and patted Wade's arm. "Go on, give some love to your man... I won't be going too far."
"Bless you." Wade said grinning ear to ear. He got up and exited the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. Sneaking up on Peter, who was going through the bags of takeout, Wade spun him around and planted a kiss on his full lips.
"B-babe," Pete stammered. "I don't think we should be doing this since we have company."
"Dylan gave us their blessing, so relax baby boy; I need this, and I know you do, too." He kissed Peter again, and luckily he melted like putty in Wade's more then capable hands.
After a couple minutes of kissing and fondling, Peter came up for air, caressing Wade's face and attempting to collect himself. "Wade, I hope you realize... that since Dylan is currently under our care, we are putting them at risk since they're now connected to us."
"Sweetheart, you do realize that we are fucking Avengers, right?"
"We know that, but they do not: and for their safety, we need to keep it that way."
"Peter.. if you know anything about film and writing tropes, keeping a secret this big from anyone only ends in disaster."
"We'll tell them eventually... hopefully once they make amends with their cousin and can reach some kind of truce. But as of right now, I've got to put these groceries away and put something together from whatever you grabbed to get them something to eat. Promise me you won't tell Dylan anything about our abilities or the fact we're technically vigilantes."
"Scout's honor, sexy... and while you're doing that, I should come up with a way that Dylan can sit comfortably."
"Sounds like a plan, babe." Peter acknowledged while putting a couple boxes of pasta in the cupboard.
'Alright, Deadpool... now's your time to improvise.'