End Of Beginning

Peter

For what felt like the first day in forever, Peter didn’t have any work. He had a whole day that he could use to catch up on the sleep that he desperately needed.

Or, he could spend all day patrolling.

Peter liked the second option much better.

Pulling on his suit, Peter scrambles out of his window so fast that he almost forgets to put on his mask.

Although, since the bite, he’d been able to see much better at night, he always enjoyed the extra sense of awareness he felt when he got to patrol during the day. The summer sun was warm on his back as he swung through the streets, and heat on the rooftops could be felt through his gloves when he sat on the edges of them.

Despite the nice weather, no one seemed to be out committing any crime. They were probably waiting for it to be dark enough to hide in the shadows of alleys.

Not yet ready to go back to his empty apartment, Peter decided to head towards his old apartment to see if he’d somehow be able to find Mac Gargan. Realistically, considering he hadn’t been spotted by anyone lately, Peter reasoned that it would be unlikely to find him. If he had some type of super suit, however, it would be much easier to find him.

After almost three hours of searching Peter had run into almost every criminal except for Mac Gargan. He was tense, shoulders wound up near his ears. He was frustrated, to say the least.

And hungry. He was really hungry.

His stomach rumbled loudly in his ears as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop trying to find that one sandwich shop that he liked. He can’t remember the last time he had eaten a chopped cheese.

His stomach rumbles louder.

Finally, he catches a whiff of the familiar scent of the sandwich shop, dropping down onto the sidewalk below. The bell above the door rings loudly as he enters and the shop owner looks up. He smiles.

“Spider-Man. Long time no see.” Peter walks towards the counter.

“Hey man, how are you doing?”

“A lot better, now that you’re here. The usual?” Peter nods and he turns around to get to work.

“Where have you been?” The man asks, preparing his sandwich.

“Around, y’know, looking for bad guys.”

He chuckles.

“You should have seen this one guy that came in earlier. He seemed pretty normal, but.” He wraps up the sandwich and turns it around, handing it to Peter.

“His face was all scared, he had a gnarly tattoo on his neck.”

Peter freezes.

“Was it a scorpion?”

The man clicks his tongue, nodding.

“You got it.”

“Did you see where he went?” Peter asks, excitedly. He points out the window to the left.

“Walked that way.”

“You are a lifesaver. How much do I owe you for the sandwich?” Peter reaches into the pocket of his suit for his phone.

“Don’t worry about it, go get your guy.”

“Thank you.” Peter quickly says before running out of the store. He swings up to the roof, pulling his mask up to his nose. He sits on the edge, quickly scarfing down the sandwich. He couldn’t taste much after the first bite, he wasn’t sure if it was due to how fast he was eating or because he had burnt his tongue taking the first bite.

“You gonna breathe or what?” Peter turns around, webbing up whoever was behind him so fast that he almost chokes on his food.

Standing behind him, wrapped in webs, is Deadpool. No wonder his spidey senses didn’t warn him about someone standing behind him.

Peter swallows, finally taking a deep breath.

“Jesus DP, you scared the shit out of me.” He finishes the last bite of his sandwich and reaches around Deadpool to grab one of his Katanas, using it to cut him out of the webs.

“No matter how many times you web me up I never enjoy it less.”

“Gross.” Peter hands the Katana back and Wade sheaths it on his back.

“What’re you doing here Webs? Bored of Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Looking for Mac Gargan, I heard that he might be around here,” Peter says, pulling his mask back over his mouth. This was probably the first time Deadpool had seen so much of his face and he was surprised he hadn’t mentioned anything about it.

“Would you believe me if I told you I was too?” Peter smiles and shakes his head. “Didn’t think so. I’m not, but I can help you if you want.”

“Yeah alright.”

~~~~~~

It was as if Deadpool were a good luck charm of sorts. Peter finally, after weeks of searching, had his eyes on Mac Gargan. He almost screamed he was so glad that he found Gargan, but he couldn’t blow their cover. He sat inconspicuously on a bench at the edge of Central Park. Peter and Deadpool stood on a building above him watching.

“He’s not doing anything. Are you sure he’s who you’re looking for? He could be a different bald guy.” Deadpool said from where he was kicking his feet off the edge of the roof.

“Yeah it’s him, spidey senses are working.” His spidey senses started tingling at the base of his neck as soon as he laid eyes on him. The hair on his neck continued to rise as he watched him. Deadpool stands up, looking back towards Peter.

“So what now, do we kidnap him, ask him what’s going on and then blow a hole right in his-” Deadpool is cut off as he falls forwards, nose cracking as it makes contact with the roof. He lands in a heap.

“POOL!” Peter doesn’t get a response as he ducks down and crawls towards him. His senses are overwhelmed by the sound of people screaming below. A small crimson puddle is forming under Deadpool’s head, steadily trickling from a bullet hole through his head.

“Holy shit DP.” Peter sits up, grabbing Deadpool under his arms and pulling him backwards, away from the edge of the roof. Another, almost silent bullet whizzes past him and he ducks back down, his face hovering inches away from the back of Deadpools head. The nauseous metallic smell of Deadpools’ blood makes him gag.

Deadpool’s dead. He killed Deadpool. The one friend he decided to make is dead.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” It feels as if he’s saying it more to himself as he flips Deadpool over, reaching for his mask. He shouts as a hand grabs his wrist.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Deadpool’s voice is grave as he tosses Peter’s hand to the side and sits up.

“Oh my god DP, how are you alive?”

“Same way you are, beating hearts, breathing lungs, all that shit.” He stands up, reaching for a gun at his waist. Peter webs his hand there, flinching as another bullet lodges itself in Deadpool's shoulder.

“Don’t kill him. Please.” Deadpool tilts his head to the side, and Peter was sure that if he wasn’t wearing a mask he’d see him pouting.

“Just stay here, I’m the one Gargan wants, not you.” Deadpool nods curtly and Peter jumps up, running to the edge of the roof.

Standing on the sidewalk below, not far from the bench he had been sitting on, is Mac Gargan.

“I’ve been looking for you, Spider-Man.” He shouts. His voice creaks and cracks, strained as if he needed to clear his throat. It scratches at Peter’s ears uncomfortably.

“Ditto.” Peter shouts back. He shoots a web at the gun Gargan has in his hand, but he quickly side steps it. Peter frowns, jumping off the edge and swinging down so that he is eye to eye with Gargan.

“You’re not an easy man to find.” Peter eyes the gun, Gargans finger twitches on the trigger.

“You’re a lot easier to find with your little costume on.” He retorts.

“You shouldn’t be here, you’re supposed to be in prison.” Gargan growls, raising his gun and shooting at Peter. He dodges it with ease, jumping towards the other man, who mirrors his dodge.

“I was in prison because of you” he shouts. “I have this,” his finger points to the scars on his face, and then at Peter, “because of you.”

He shoots at Peter again, twice in succession. The second bullet narrowly misses Peter and his spidey senses scream. Peter's breath catches in his throat.

“You took everything from me. You left me to rot in a jail cell.”

“You should still be there. How did you get out? I got your guys.” Gargan lets out a garbled laugh.

“You got three guys that were working for me, do you really think I didn’t plan for you to intervene?”

Peter turns his head as he hears the sound of sirens approaching.

“Well, what’s it going to be Gargan, the police are on their way?” Peter turns back towards the other man and is met with the thick barrel of a silencer against his forehead. He freezes. So that was how he had shot Deadpool without alerting Peter.

“You’re weaker, Spider-Man. My gun should have already been out of my hands, and look at it now.” Out of the corner of his eye Peter can see Deadpool on the edge of the roof, the hand that is not webbed to his side, slightly raised, a gun in his own hand. “What’s holding you back? Hurt me. Beat me. Beat me the way you did all those years ago.”

Almost in the blink of an eye, the barrel of his gun moves away from his head, firing up at Deadpool. Deadpool fires his gun immediety after. Gargans bullet lodges in Deadpools side, throwing off his shot.

The bullet that he had aimed at Gargan hits Peter instead.

Peter cries out as the bullet makes contact with the meat of his thigh. He’s grabbed by an arm. Gargan’s grip is brutal as he tries to pull away.

“I’m stronger than I was before, and I expected the same of you. Next time you see me, I won’t go so easy. Be ready to beat me, or I will kill you.” And with that, he lets go, running away as a cop car's lights start to flash in Peter's peripherals.

The noise and flashing mixed with the pain has Peter stumbling incoherently, retching. He feels a hand around his waist and weakly punches in the general direction that it is coming from.

“It’s okay, spidey, it’s me. C’mon, I’m taking you back to your apartment.”

Deadpool's voice is the last coherant thing Peter remembers.