“One of these days you’re going to appreciate me!” Deadpool called as he sailed off the side of a building. He would be fine, eventually.
Spider-Man was sick and tired of the mercenary’s antics and lies. He kept saying over and over how he was turning a new leaf, how he wanted Spider-Man’s help to become a better person, blah blah blah. He knew it was a ploy. What for Peter had yet to work out, but he was tired of all the harassment on patrols. It was going on a year and a half of near constant compliments and positivity from the merc, it was annoying to say the least.
“Jesus that was a hard climb, you nearly got me there Webs,” Deadpool said, hauling himself back up over the side of the building. “Luckily you knew I had my grappling hook on me.”
He did not know he had his grappling hook on him, otherwise he would have thrown the man farther instead of just pushing him off the side. “Leave me alone, I’m not in the mood tonight.”
“You’re in some kind of mood alright, a grumpy mood. What? OH! Good thought! Do you wanna go get some tacos, or burgers? I know this great 24 hour diner down the street that makes the best-”
“Fuck off, Wade! I don’t want to talk to you tonight. Or any night. Like ever! You are the most annoying murderer I’ve met in my entire life, don’t you ever just take a break? Or better yet, why don’t you go break your neck somewhere far, far away from me so I don’t have to deal with you for three hours!”
Wade sagged at the words, his cheerful demeanor slipping momentarily before he perked right back up again. “Calling it a night then? I’ll see you tomorrow, bubble butt!”
Peter shook his head as he jumped from the building, webbing away hopefully faster than Wade could follow, middle finger up and directed at the mercenary. Maybe that had been a little harsh, but the guy’s constant harassment had really gotten under his skin as of late. His aunt was dying, he could barely afford the shithole he lived in, and here’s a contract killer, probably a millionaire, following him around like a lost puppy looking for attention. Sure, he was helpful sometimes, and he would always take a bullet for Peter when he couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, but he thought he had been clear enough in their first interactions that Spider-Man worked alone. It was bordering on psychopathy at this point that the guy still tried to talk to him.
Their first few meetings ended in fights that clearly Deadpool wasn’t trying to win. Sure, he would play along at first, but once Peter saw the man seriously fight, it was obvious he was letting him win in their brawls. Peter had first thought that Deadpool was contracted to kill him or something, hence the fights, but every time he would insist that wasn’t his intention. When that was clear, he let the man tag along on patrols sometimes, but he was still so obnoxious, that after a few nights of that, Spider-Man had insisted again that he wasn’t interested in helping the mercenary, and he wanted to be left alone. That’s when it had escalated to throwing the merc from buildings, or into oncoming trains, or at whatever villain of the week he was fighting. He knew the man couldn’t die, and he figured he didn’t feel pain either, so he didn’t see the harm, he would never intentionally kill or hurt anyone that could like…feel it.
So, that was their routine. Deadpool would show up, usually at the worst of times, like when Peter was about to take his mask off, or when he was in the middle of fighting off a squad of goons, he’d help for awhile, offer Spider-Man food or games or something, and then Peter would tell him to piss off. It had been a year and a half of this routine, and it didn’t seem likely to end anytime soon.
Friday. Friday. Where would Spidey be on a Friday? Wade considered all the possibilities before hearing a commotion in an alley near him. Bingo! “Hey, what’s red and blue and webbed all over?” He asked as he stepped into the alley. He was immediately stabbed by some guy that was apparently trying to flee the scene of whatever crime was happening. “Ow, that’s not very nice,” he said, grabbing the knife from his sternum and using the handle to knock the man out cold. He was trying so hard not to kill people. If he was good, he hoped Spidey would finally see he was turning a new leaf, that he was serious and that he wanted help. Like actually.
He really admired Spider-Man’s moral code, and he wanted people to look up to him like they did Spider-Man. His own daughter looked up to Spider-Man, and he wanted her to see him the way she saw the webbed hero. It was hard though, the constant beratement, getting killed constantly by the guy, it really didn’t line up with what he knew of the vigilanty’s moral code, but he understood, he was annoying, the voices in his head told him that all the time, and really the deaths just saved him from doing it himself when he was rejected, so it was fully understandable, almost appreciated.
“Not you again. Can we just save ourself the trouble this time DP and you just fuck off now,” Spidey groaned as he webbed up the criminal he was fighting.
“Come on Webs, I’ve been so good. See, I didn’t kill this guy, and I haven’t taken a hit job in like nine months! Just intel stuff. I just want your help to become a hero, for real,” it was basically the same thing he said every time. He wasn’t sure what else he could say to get through to the hero. So, he just repeated himself, hoping this time it would stick, or get through. [Not likely] White crooned. {You know you’re just a fruity fuck up. You’ll never be good enough for Spider-Man, or Ellie. You can’t even raise your own daughter} Yellow teased.
Wade just grit his teeth and resisted replying to the boxes. He figured admitting he had voices in his head would make Spider-Man even less likely to help him, so he tried not to respond to them aloud around the hero, although sometimes he forgot not everyone could see them and responded anyway.
“Please, just go away. I’ve had a really bad day, the last thing I want to do is interact with you,” Webs pleaded.
He really did sound desperate. Wade could respect a bad mental health day, he had them…well, he never didn’t have them. “I’m sorry you’re having a bad day. Can I get you something to cheer you up? Some chimichangas, or uh I have this adorable cat plush that I like to hug when I’m having a bad day,” Ellie had given it to him, and it meant the world to him. “Here I think I have it…” he paused as he dug around in his nebulous pouches. “Aha!” he pulled the stuffie out in triumph and offered it up to Spider-Man.
Spider-Man took the plushie out of Wade’s hands and considered it for just a second before ripping it clean in half, then into fourths, then smaller and smaller until it was so obliterated that not even his super strength could make it tear any smaller. There was stuffing all over the alley where the webbed up criminal still was, watching the interaction with wide eyes. “I. Don’t. Want. Your. Help. And I’m never going to help you. You’re too much of a fuck up to be saved Wade Wilson. No one can stand you, you don’t have any friends, I don’t even think your family loves you anymore, if you even have any, you probably fucked that up too. You’re a joke to the hero community, and your constant optimism is infuriating! I hope I never see you again in my life! Fuck you, fuck your family, I hope you die permanently so I can spit on your fucking grave!” And with that Spider-Man webbed off into the night.
Wade stood stunned as he stared at the wreckage of Kitty Kitty Bang Bang, named after Ellie’s favorite film. Was he too old to cry? He was definitely too old to cry. He was doing it anyway. Spider-Man was right, he was too fucked up to help. He didn’t deserve Ellie, her foster parents were doing a fine job of raising her themselves, they didn’t need his input, he didn’t know anything about children. Hell, he didn’t even remember being a child himself.
“Uh…” a voice coughed from somewhere in the alley. He glanced up to see the webbed criminal staring awkwardly. Wade sniffed, trying to be less obvious about his crying. “I don’t know who you are, but that was fucked up, even for Spider-Man. Don’t take it too harsh man, any guy who dresses up in spandex and fights crime has to have his own issues.”
Criminal guy was right, but it didn’t make the rejection hurt any less. Spider-Man gave second chances to everyone. The Green Goblin, Kingpin, literally every single villain, but Wade was just too fucked up to be saved. He pulled a gun from his belt and put it up to his temple.
“Hey, dude, no it’s okay, don’t-” POP! The criminal was cut off by the gun going off, spewing Deadpool’s brains across the pavement.
Spider-Man cringed at the sound of the gun, of Wade ending his own life. Yeah, he had been harsh, but he was having a really bad day. Aunt May had taken a turn for the worse, and it wasn’t looking like she was going to make it through the week, the new semester of grad school was coming up and he had to figure out how to pay for it, and Wade was just so frustrating! It was so easy to take it out on the guy.
Peter had actually only swung up to the top of a neighboring building to monitor the situation. He didn’t want Wade to kill the two criminals in the alley in anger or anything. He had been surprised to hear Deadpool crying, he was always so relentlessly optimistic, he had never really thought about the guy having emotions other than manic joy. And killing himself seemed a little overkill, but it did serve to make Peter feel even more guilty. Jerk. Criminal guy was right though, he did have his own issues, and Deadpool was absolutely one of them. He called the police to pick up the criminals and webbed away, figuring with Deadpool’s brief demise, nothing else exciting would be happening in that spot.
Spider-Man got his wish after that night. He didn’t see Wade the next day, or the day after that, or the week, or month. It was bordering on six months when Spider-Man realized two very important things: 1) he was bored without the stupid Merc with a stupid mouth and 2) he was worried about the guy. Had Wade actually died? Did it take taking his own life to end it all? That didn’t seem right. He knew Wade had killed himself before, he had seen the guy jump off of buildings at least thirty times. So that wasn’t it. Maybe he just left New York. If that was the case, Peter felt like it was his duty to call and apologize, maybe even explain why he was so touchy that night, he owed the man that much probably, especially after destroying a comfort item. He would be devastated if anyone ever tore up his knitted blanket that his Aunt had made him, and he had a feeling that dumb cat plush was something like that for him.
So, Peter went to Wade’s apartment. The man had given him the address ages ago in case he ever wanted to ‘swing by,’ which had obviously never happened before. He went in through the window, surprised to find it unlocked, and glanced around. It was a wreck, and smelled like rot. He stumbled around until he found a lamp, and was appalled as the scene was illuminated. The entire place was covered in various weapons, and all of those, and the floor, ceiling, walls, and furniture all were covered in blood splatters, brain matter, some body parts, just all manners of gore. Peter had to rip the bottom of his mask up so he could vomit on the ground. It’s not like that was making the place any less sanitary.
It was obvious now that Wade wasn’t mentally okay. Judging by the rot smell, and the color of the blood, it didn’t seem like Wade had killed himself for a while, at least not in this room. Maybe this room got so dirty though that he hadn’t wanted to continue using it. “Wade?” Peter called weakly. He explored the rest of the little apartment, thankful to find the rest of the place wasn’t nearly as gorey as the living room had been. There was no sign of the merc though, it looked as though the apartment hadn’t been used in months. He’d have to try something else.
Peter’s only other lead was a seedy bar. He knew Deadpool got his jobs from some guy named Weasel, in a bar called Marg’s or something like that, so that was his next stop.
As soon as Spider-Man walked into the bar, he knew he wasn’t welcome. Maybe he should have thought more about walking into a bar full of notorious criminals, and not worn the Spidey suit, but he wasn’t exactly thinking straight after the horror show that was Wade’s apartment.
“You!” The bartender called, making every eye that wasn’t on him already turn to him, and a number of guns were pulled as well. His Spidey Senses were screaming at him to get the fuck out of there.
Against his better judgment, he walked towards the bar with his hands up. “Uh, are you Weasel?”
“What the fuck are you doing here Spider-Man? Who told you you could come here? It wasn’t me, that’s for damn sure,” Weasel, Peter assumed, hissed at him.
“I’m just looking for Deadpool. I’m…worried about him. I was hoping you could point me in the right direction. I already checked his apartment…” he trailed off, unsure of what else to say.
Weasel waved at the bar patrons, causing them all to lower their weapons. “So you saw all that already. I was supposed to sell it, but I haven’t had the heart to hire a cleaning staff to deal with that yet.”
Peter could understand the sentiment. He wouldn’t want to make anyone else see that either, or smell it. “Sell it? You mean Wade left New York.”
“Not by choice. I came over to see him and saw…that. Thanks for that, by the way. Figured he was in a really, really bad place, so I called some people, and now he’s living near his daughter and her foster family so they can spend time together. He’s really getting better, mentally and all that,” Weasel said. He was smiling, just a little bit, like he wasn’t aware of his joy, but it was obvious he was happy for his friend.
“Oh.” Peter said simply. He had really fucked up. Wade had a daughter? Had the man actually been trying to get better all this time? He wasn’t just fucking with Spider-Man in a weird, twisted game.
“I called in some favors too, Reed Richards is helping me come up with a compound to help his cancer not hurt so much on the daily, and I think that’s really taking a load off his mental state too. And he’s seeing a therapist. He’s doing really good.” Weasel seemed so proud of his friend.
Spider-Man stood shocked for a moment. “Wade can feel pain?”
Weasel stared at the hero like he had grown two extra heads. “His mutation is healing, of course he can feel. It’s not like his nerve endings stopped working.”
Oh. Oh Peter fucked up. All those times he had let Deadpool get hurt instead of him, all those times he let the man die, all those times he killed Deadpool, he could feel it. Everything. Every fall from a building, every bullet, every broken bone. And it sounded like he always operated at a base level of pain on top of all that from the fucking cancer that Peter didn’t know about. He was a terrible person. He had basically been torturing someone who had only wanted help from him. Who only wanted his respect and aid. He was pretty sure he was about to have a panic attack.
“Tell me where he is, please, I need to apologize. Please. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad,” Peter pleaded.
“Why the fuck would I tell you where he lives? You saw his house. You think I don’t know how you’ve been treating him? I’m his best friend, he tells me everything. I’m only telling you this shit so you feel bad about how awful you’ve been, and you know how great he’s doing without you. He convinced himself he needed you to learn to be a hero, even just to be a good guy, because his daughter looked up to you, but now he knows he’s fine on his own. His daughter looks up to him anyways, despite you. She doesn’t even like you anymore, cause you hurt her daddy,” he sneered.
“I want to make it better, please.”
“You want to make it better, Spider-Man? Then fuck off and leave him alone. That’s some gaslighting shit right there. Hurt him for years, make him think he needs you, then when he finally leaves you suddenly want him back? Fuck you. You need to leave now.” Like a command from God, the bar patrons turned back to Spider-Man, weapons aimed and ready to go. Spider-Man got his ass out of there lickety split.
Weasel was right, and Peter couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was some manipulation bullshit that he wanted to barge back into Wade’s life, like he was the reason it could get better. But he wanted to apologize, maybe explain himself. Nothing could excuse his actions, but he could at least bring Wade some closure. At least Weasel had unknowingly given Peter another lead, Reed Richards.
He was friends with the Fantastic 4, had fought alongside them a number of times, he even used to room with Johnny Storm for awhile when they were both tight on cash but wanted to live independently. He hadn’t heard from them in awhile, and he wondered if learning about his treatment of Wade was why. That would make sense, and he certainly wouldn’t blame them. It wouldn’t hurt to ask though, to bring up his plan.
Reed heard him out, and instead of giving an address, he told him he would talk to Wade’s therapist and see if a meeting would be wise. Honestly, Peter was glad to hear they were taking those precautions, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt the man more.
Eventually, after a few weeks of deliberation, it was decided that he could go visit. After much internal debate, Peter decided to go to the meeting as Peter Parker, not as Spider-Man, to show Wade, hopefully, that he trusted him.
That was how Peter found himself, six months and one week after his final confrontation with Wade, standing on the porch of a beautiful suburban house in upstate New York, wearing civilian clothes, holding a stuffed unicorn. He knocked at the door, bracing himself to be punched. Instead he was greeted by the door being opened by a tall, muscular, stupidly handsome man covered in scars with a child on his hip. A little girl who couldn’t be much older than six. He could see the resemblance in the two, they had the same noses, and jaw structure, but her gorgeous brown eyes must have come from her mother, because Wade’s were a piercing, ice blue. But now was not the time to get horny over the man he was here to apologize to.
“Can I help you?” Wade finally asked after it became awkward with how long they were staring at each other.
“Oh, right. Hi. Uhm…” oh Peter was fucking this up big time. “Uh I’m Peter-Man… I mean Spider-Peter. Hi.”
Wade raised an eyebrow at the fumbling man on his porch. He sat Ellie down from his hip and placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “El-bell, why don’t you go play with your dolls for a little bit while daddy talks to Peter Man.”
“Okay! You promised me tacos for dinner, don’t forget!” She yelled back as she ran towards presumably her dolls.
“Like I could ever forget about tacos!” He called back. Wade turned back to Peter, causing the man to stiffen. “Come on in Spider Peter.”
Peter followed Wade into the house. It was nice, comfortable looking. It looked both lived in and still new. There were tchotchkes all around, and way more throw blankets then seemed necessary, but also boxes that were yet to be unpacked, and the occasional thing that just didn’t fit with the suburban home, like the katanas hanging on the wall that Peter knew to be Bea and Arthur, or the Deadpool mask hanging upside down from a box. It was a strange place, but definitely all Wade. It felt like it mirrored the man’s psyche in a way, two worlds at war with each other. Not that Peter knew much about Wade’s internal thoughts, he had been so wrong about the man. So, so wrong.
“Based on the porch fumbling, and dat ass, I’m assuming that you’re Spider-Man,” Wade finally said when the silence stretched into awkwardness once again.
“Oh! Yes, right. Yeah. Hi, again,” Peter said. He was really bad at this.
“Is there a reason you’re here? Have you finally decided to help me become a hero? Cause I’m out of the game. I’m all done with that now, finito, complevit, donezo.”
“No, I just- I wanted to apologize. And give you this,” he handed over the unicorn plush sheepishly. “I was really awful to you, for way too long. You just became my punching bag I guess. The first time you took a knife to the thigh without flinching I just assumed you couldn’t…feel? It never occurred to me that maybe you just experienced so much pain in your life that a knife was nothing.”
Wade took the unicorn plush and held it close, like it was something to be cherished. “I get it, it’s okay, I’m an easy punching bag. Hey, I would punch me too if I co-”
“NO! No, Wade it’s so not okay. Your life was hard enough. You were trying to get better and instead of encouraging you, or helping you, I just made it worse. I was a bully!”
“It’s really okay. I’ve been through a lot, nothing you did was any worse than the past.”
Peter was sure Wade was trying to be comforting, but all it was doing was making him feel even worse. How could he do this to someone who had been through apparently so much? His aunt would kill him if he ever breathed a word of this to her. “It’s so not okay, I hurt you. I let you die instead of me. Fuck dude, I killed you! I’m no better than the villians I fight. Listen to you! You’re trying to comfort me, you deserve to be upset about this! I was terrible.”
“That’s not true, you’ve saved way more people then you’ve hurt, and if you were going to take it out on anyone, it might as well have been me, right? At least I can’t die,” Wade said, but he wasn’t making eye contact with Peter.
“There’s the relentless optimism again. Do you really think so low of yourself that you should just die over and over again?”
Wade shrugged.
“Fuck,” Peter said. He took a deep breath and looked around again, taking in the pictures of Wade and Ellie around the house, or ones of just Ellie, he took in all the blankets, finally noticing the one balled up in the corner. It was a Spider-Man blanket, one that looked really well loved, but it also looked like it hadn’t been touched in awhile. “Can I hug you?” He asked suddenly.
Wade looked up in surprise, then shrugged.
Peter stood and closed the distance between the two of them. He wrapped his arms first tentatively around Wade, then much more firmly. Wade was tense at first, but after a moment, he sagged into Peter’s arms. He was shaking. The large, beefcake of a man was shaking in Peter’s arms. It took him a moment to realize that he was holding back tears. “Let it out big guy,” he murmured.
Finally, Wade started crying into Peter’s chest. Big, heaving sobs, like he was finally allowed to feel now. It broke Peter’s heart, but he knew he would never, ever let anything happen to Wade ever again. He vowed to protect this big beautiful man from any more hurt. Even if Wade never wanted to see him again, he would protect from afar, or through his friends like the Fantastic 4 and whatnot. He rubbed up and down Wade’s back, trying to comfort him as much as he could from this position. He settled on the couch and pulled the big man into his lap. It was a little awkward, but it let Wade cry into his shoulder instead, and here he could better rub the man’s back.
“I’m so sorry Wade, I’m so sorry I never heard you out. I was stupid for assuming so many things without asking you, you are a good guy, you’re a wonderful, amazing, handsome, terrific guy and I was an idiot not to see it before,” he whispered.
Wade sniffled a few more times before sitting up properly. He wiped his eyes and really looked at Peter. “Why did you come without your suit? I know what you look like now, and your name.”
“I trust you. For all these years I stupidly thought you were like…hired to kill me or figure out my identity or something, but I was just being paranoid, and stupid. But I trust you Wade, you wouldn’t hurt me like that.”
Wade nodded. “Thank you for finally trusting me. I’m sorry for crying on you, you’re totally ripped by the way, I could tell when I was crying in your chest.”
Peter laughed. That was the Wade he knew, complimenting him at every possible turn. “You’re not so bad yourself. I thought the suit was all padding, clearly I was wrong.” Wade opened his mouth, probably to make a self deprecating comment, but Peter held up a finger to stop him. “Before you say anything, I think the scars look really good. Scars are ways to show that we survived. You should see my torso, I’m covered in them too.”
Wade’s mouth snapped shut and he sighed. “Daddy can we do tacos now?” Ellie called as she came into the living room. She took in the sight of her dad sitting on another man’s lap and smiled. “Oh daddy do you have a boyfriend?”
Wade laughed as he fumbled his way off of Peter’s lap. He scooped Ellie up into his arms and hugged her close. “No, Peter-Man isn’t my boyfriend, just a friend. Look, he brought me a unicorn to replace Kitty Kitty Bang Bang! What should we name it?” He lifted the stuffed toy up and handed it to the little girl.
“Gordon Ramsey,” Ellie said, extremely seriously. Peter snorted.
“I think that’s a great name. Now go get our aprons and we can start making tacos, okay dragon princess?” Wade said as he set her and Gordon Ramsey the unicorn back down.
“Okay!” And she was off.
“Do you…want to stay for dinner?” Wade asked, turning back to Peter.
“Do you want me to stay for dinner?”
“As long as there’s no maiming, I would love for you to. I know we got off on the very wrong foot. Like, a foot from a different dimension. Like you have Tom’s foot but obviously you’re Andrew-”
“Yeah, I got it, wrong foot,” Peter said, snorting with barely withheld laughter.
“And somehow Tom’s foot has Tobey’s toes,” he continued to ramble.
“Daddy I got the aprons!” Ellie called, throwing an apron at her father. “Mister Peter Man, can you tie my apron?”
“It’s just Peter, and of course I can.” Peter bent down to tie the straps of the adorable little apron covered in a veggie print that said ‘Eat a Rainbow’on the pockets. He had a feeling Wade had picked it out, or maybe she and her dad shared their taste in cutesy things. It seemed likely, Wade did seem to have the taste of a six year old girl, it’s why he had picked out the unicorn stuffed animal in the first place. The amount of times he found random Lisa Frank or Hello Kitty stickers in his suit when he was still irrationally angry at Wade was too many to count.
“Thank you Mister Just Peter!” She giggled as she walked back towards the kitchen. Seemed she was a smart ass like her dad too.
He turned back to see Wade in a blue apron with the words ‘rock out with your crock out’ on it. “Can you wear that around children?”
“She doesn’t understand it yet. Besides, my Spider-Man apron got burned by my tiny pyromaniac,” Wade cooed affectionately.
Peter was pretty sure he was in love with this family. After making dinner together and consuming it, which, by the way, was the best tacos Peter had ever eaten, the three sat around in the living room and played Mario Kart together. He was ashamed to be beaten by a six year old in every round they played, but at least he managed to beat Wade. Ellie ranted the whole time about how she hated Spider-Man for hurting her dad, and if she ever met him in person she would punch him in his face, which Peter felt was totally deserved. He would probably punch him in the face too, if that was possible. He would definitely have to earn back her trust if he wanted to continue being friends with Wade, but it seemed she liked him as Peter well enough.
By the time Ellie started yawning, it was almost ten o’clock, and Peter realized he had a several hour drive back to the city to make still.
“Wait here, I’m going to put the kiddo to bed, since someone has gymnastics tomorrow!” Wade sing-songed. Peter could hear Ellie’s groan from where he was still in the living room. She had gone to brush her teeth. “She loves it really, she’s been protesting lately because she’s still mad at a certain red and blue spandex wearing superhero, and said hero is why she started in the first place.” He paused and stared off into space for a moment before, “no I am NOT talking about Superman!”
“Daddy come read me a bedtime story!” Ellie called from what Peter assumed was her room. He kind of wanted to hear that, so Peter followed and stood just outside of the bedroom so he could listen in.
“In the great, green room there was a telephone and a red balloon…” Wade started. He had a beautiful reading voice, his tone’s deepening and softening when appropriate for the short children’s book. Peter got lost in the soothing tone of voice. He remembered the book from his own childhood, and he remembered being distinctly creeped out by it, but the way Wade read it, he could picture the green room and old lady bunny and whatnot, and instead of the empty feeling he used to get, he instead felt warm. He was pretty sure he was dozing off against the wall as the bedtime story was coming to a close. “Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere,” he finished. “Goodnight baby girl, sleep tight, I love you.”
“Love you too daddy,” came the sleepy reply from Ellie. Peter could tell she was barely awake. He heard Wade stand up and walk towards the door before the girl spoke again. “Will you keep the tv up so I can hear it?”
“Of course El-Bell, goodnight,” said Wade. He startled when he came out of the room to a sleepy Peter leaning heavily against the wall. “Did the story get you too? Goodnight Moon always works. It’s my number one dad hack.”
Peter laughed as he stood up straight again. “I can never get to sleep in my apartment, I’m going to hire you to read me bedtime stories from now on.”
“Anything for you Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater.”
“That’s a long nickname, you sure you’re gonna stick with that one?”
“I’m workshopping.”
Peter snorted as he trailed behind Wade into the living room once again.
He switched the tv onto Golden Girls and played it softly before turning to face Peter. “You can spend the night if you want. It’s late and you already look like you’re half asleep,” Wade said.
“That’s alright, I think I’ve burdened you enough for one lifetime. Besides, I’m used to being up this late, you know how late patrols can last.”
“Yes, but you don’t usually get read bedtime stories by the best bedtime story reader this side of the Mississippi on patrols, I’m quite the somnificator.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just make up that word.”
“I totally didn’t! Look it up! Anyways, I’m not going to let you leave. You deserve to taste my pancakes, I am a born and bred Canadian after all, and I am absolutely pulling the ‘you abused me for several years’ card to guilt you into staying.”
Yeah, that was fair. Peter sighed and stretched out, already preparing himself to get comfy on the couch. “Alright yeah fine, just toss me the sad Spidey blanket from the corner and I’ll be set for the night.”
“You think I’m letting my guest sleep on the couch? Absolutely not!” Wade shooed Peter up and towards the only door Peter hadn’t seen the inside of yet. The door opened to reveal…basically exactly what he expected. It was a regular room decked out in decor that was probably from the children’s section of Target. A rainbow lamp and bed covers, some plushies, posters from all manner of pop culture and decades, action figures, just general Wade-ness. “Let me grab you some pjs.”
Peter sat himself down on the king sized bed and sighed softly. He could imagine spending his nights here, studying or planning lessons there while Wade rambled on about a new action figure or comic he was reading, or while he was making dinner with Ellie. It sounded like a dream, a pipe dream, but a dream all the same. He didn’t think Wade would ever fully forgive him, and he certainly couldn’t fully forgive himself, but he could dream. He was simping over Deadpool, he really missed the guy in those months he was gone.
“Here we go! They’re going to be big on you, but they should be comfy. If you need me, I’ll be out on the couch, sleep tight spider butt,” Wade said quickly as he tossed Peter the pajamas. They were probably the ugliest pajama pants he had ever seen, being covered in Nicktoons characters, but it was very Wade, along with a plain black t-shirt.
“Thanks for-” Peter was cut off by the door closing. Yeah, fair. He changed rather quickly into the pajamas, and while they were big on him, they were incredibly comfortable, and they smelled like Wade. He settled into the big bed, but hesitated sleeping. He couldn’t just take Wade’s bed, he had already taken so much from the ex-mercenary.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long to amend his predicament. After maybe ten minutes of worrying, he could hear loud snoring from the living room, and he figured Wade was dead asleep. He quietly crept back into the room to find Wade crashed in front of the softly playing Golden Girls, and he carefully lifted the huge man into his arms. Bless his spider strength.
“Wh-huh?” Wade awoke from what Peter thought was a deep slumber.
“Go to sleep, you’re having a dream,” he whispered, hoping that was convincing.
“Are you carrying me?” Wade mumbled, growing more awake by the second.
“No?”
“You totally are. Couldn’t stand to sleep in the same house with me without sharing a bed, I see how it is,” Wade said. He wiggled his eyebrows, or rather his brow bone, since he was hairless due to all the scarring.
“I just don’t want to take your bed, I’ve already taken so much from you.”
Wade was quiet for a few moments while Peter continued to carry the man back to his bedroom. “We can share, it’s a king. That’s my final offer.”
Peter snorted, but he carefully sat Wade down in the bed and took the opposite side. He was blushing furiously, but he hoped his companion couldn’t see that in the dark.
“Good night Pete.”
“Night Wade,” Peter whispered. He left it at that, but something was still tickling the back of his brain. He could hear Wade’s breath evening again, so he needed to act fast. “Hey, are we…good?”
“Yeah, we’re good. You’re still my hero, I can’t be mad at you for long.”
Peter bit his tongue when he wanted to rebuttal and say that he shouldn’t be anyone’s hero after how he had treated Wade.
“I can hear you angsting over there. We’re really good, I promise Baby Boy. If you really want to make up for it, Ellie could you a math tutor, if you don’t mind making the drive out here once a month or something. Or we could do it on Zoom.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. Now go to sleep or you’re not getting pancakes tomorrow.”
Peter laughed and was finally able to find peace, secure in the knowledge that not only did Wade want to see him again, but he wanted him to become a regular staple in his and his daughter’s lives. Maybe there was a future for him with Wade, maybe there was a future for him period, a life finally outside of the hero business.